We Accept the Love That We Think We Deserve

It's a universal truth, whether we like it or not. . . .we really do accept the love that we think we deserve.  This can be an amazing thing.  It can allow folks to end relationships that aren't fulfilling and create loving, stable, complete, equal, tender partnerships.  Where this becomes a total CRAPPER kind of a deal is when someone doesn't really feel their own worth.  Say someone who's been abused their entire life and they feel "less than", dirty, damaged, unlovable, tarnished and undeserving.  Now, IMAGINE what kind of love THAT kind of person might "accept"?

It's painful when you've already been used and abused and then find that the person who claims to love you is really only "in it" about 10%.  Why would anyone put up with a person only loving them 10%, you might wonder?  Well. . . .I'll tell you, when you feel like 90% SHIT all of your life, YOU try ten times harder to be lovable. . . .be quiet. . . .be accommodating. . . .NOT be demanding. . . You carry the weight of that relationship because, in fact, you feel as though you DESERVE to work harder.  You DESERVE to put in 190% to make up for that "loved ones" 10% effort.  I mean, come on, isn't he doing me a favor by lowering himself that much to even BE with me?  Aren't I so beyond damaged goods that no man would ever want me?  No man will EVER love me?  He's the "only one" who'd even take on someone as fucked up as I am, right?   Then, you've got his family reminding you what a piece of shit you are and guess what?  You believe them.  Why?  Because you tell yourself the same thing every time you look into the mirror.  You KNOW that you're broken, scarred, incomplete somehow.

I suppose the part that's never really made any sense to me is, why don't people WANT to help someone who feels like shit up?  Stick your damn "pristine hand" down in that shit and lift that person, whom you CLAIM to love, up to "your level".   Why does it NEVER fail that the folks who end up with these fragile, vulnerable people are takers?  Non-stop takers at that.  The kind of takers that leave a person so depleted and vacant and empty and lonely that they consider walking away from their entire lives, just to get a (much deserved) break.  It's funny how both people in these totally fucked up relationships are, actually, "getting something" out of it.  For the 190% giver, they get someone. . .ANYONE . . . .to love them. . . someone to take care of, someone to have that "perfect little life" with, someone to "finally get it right" with, someone to wake up for and go to sleep with, someone to build your entire life around, someone to give you sweet babies and a roof over your head.  Someone that will construct such a life, as to allow you to show the world "SEE, I'M NOT TOTAL SHIT!  I CAN HAVE IT ALL!"  Even when "all" of it is total bullshit.  Even when you're so totally alone in the "facade" of a life you've built that you wonder if anyone would even notice if you just were to vanish into thin air.  Then, the 10% person gets all of your love, commitment, devotion, emotion, care, concern, attention, admiration, adoration and caring. They get taken care of, seen, valued, built up, nurtured and validated. They are allowed to be lazy and still get the reward. This validates that they're "doing everything right". I mean "look at how well she's treating me, right?!!?!? "

So, I suppose, in the end, the only way to break this self-destructive cycle is to start seeing, feeling and really BELIEVING that you deserve something better. Believe that you deserve to be seen, taken care of, babied, nurtured and validated, too. The only way out is through. Now, I'm not saying it will be easy. Hell, I'm not even sure how to do IT myself, exactly, but, I'm trying. You have to start somewhere. You have to dig deep and look inside yourself to understand that, just as you are, you're good enough. Just as you are, you're deserving. Just as you are, you are lovable. Open yourself up to a "better love" and a "better love" will find you. Until then, you'll keep accepting that damaged love you think you deserve.

Take a deep breath, it's just another day in "Perfect". . . . . 

Life in "Perfect": Some "Simply" Complicated Truths

Life in "Perfect": Some "Simply" Complicated Truths: There are a few things that I hold as "simple truths".  Now, I realize that my truth might not be your truth and I also recognize ...

Some "Simply" Complicated Truths

There are a few things that I hold as "simple truths".  Now, I realize that my truth might not be your truth and I also recognize that what's simple for one might be very complicated for another.  Stick with me and let's see where we land. . . . .

There is no reality; there is only perception. 

This can be best demonstrated by eye witness accounts of events. If 10 people witness and event, if 100 people, hell if a million people all witness the same event, if you interviewed each individual person would you get the same EXACT story twice? Absolutely not. Are they lying? Well, most certainly some of them might be. Some people just like to do that shit. You know who you are. Shame on you. Anyway, are they lying? Most of them are not. They are however victims of their own perceptions of the event. 

Your perception is easy to manipulate.

Just ask any marketing firm, advertising company, political party or media outlet and, if you can find an honest person, they'll tell you. You are constantly being manipulated to believe things, feel things, want things, dislike things, be fearful of things, hell, you're manipulated into downright HATING things. This is doubly bad when the manipulation comes from within and not without, as in from a family member, lover or close friend. 

Your ability to be manipulated is predictable. 

Depending on your IQ, your EQ and the totality of your life experiences, your "baseline" ability to be manipulated can be extrapolated. If you're a person that thinks that you're "the smartest person in the room", yet you have the emotional depth of a teaspoon of water in an Olympic sized swimming pool, you'll be easy to manipulate. However, you'll also be easy to manipulate if you're a super emotional, touchy feely person that has the intelligence of your average tree frog. Your "soft spots" will, of course be different from each other, but you will both be targeted often. Even people that are high in the IQ and EQ department with tons of applicable life experience can and do get manipulated. It's almost inevitable. As "pack creatures" we are very inner connected with our "pack mates".  Which brings me to the next "simply complicated truth". . . .

You're prejudiced against (or for) something. 

Yes you are. We all are. I'm sorry. I know that you don't like it. However, seeing as how we ARE "pack animals", we all just want to belong, be loved, be seen, be accepted, be safe and feel like we're actually part of the fucking pack. We look to our surroundings to find confirmation that we're behaving properly, doing the "right thing" or that we'll have support from our peers should we need it. Because of that, you're prejudice. In the truest sense of the word. You have a preconceived notion about something. That's how our brains work. Imagine all of the time it would take for us to have to evaluate every single individual thing that happened to us; like it was the FIRST time ANYTHING had ever happened to us? That would be a cluster fuck of monumental proportions. We are hard-wired to make snap decisions about things. For instance, if you're a woman reading this: Imagine that you're in a darkened parking garage, underground. It's late at night. The garage is nearly empty, but not quite. There are still a few cars here and there, scattered around. You start to head to your car, WAAAY in the back corner, because that was the only spot left when you got to the mall to get your cute ass shoes that were on sale. . .DON'T JUDGE BECKY! Anyway, you're walking to your car and notice that there's a van parked right next to your car. Then, when you're halfway to your car, you see a man start running towards you. Any man. He hasn't said one word. He hasn't approached you, directly. How do you feel? Now, everyone, tell me, is there a part of town that you wouldn't want your car to break down in? How about your daughter's car? How about your grandmother's car? That's a prejudice. You might also feel a strong affiliation with a political party or a certain organized religion; to the point where you feel that the people that don't feel like you are wrong, dumb, stupid, lost souls. That's a pre-judgement. Maybe there's a part of the world that you would "never go to". Why? Do you find that you tend to surround yourself with others that agree with you? Hmm . . . .interesting. 

Narcissists, pathological liars and "general shit stirrers" muddy the waters.

Make no mistake about it. We're all just these floating perceivers that are easy to manipulate with preconceived notions of the world, but when you throw in a good old narc or a compulsive liar or even just the ever present "shit stirrer" (could all be one person here. . .) things can go off of the rails quickly. See, there's no way to really KNOW if people are being honest with you or not, right? Sucks, but it's true. Is that story that your neighbor told you even true? Did your husband REALLY work late? Does your best friend really love your cheesecake? How will we ever know? The constant inner struggle to try to determine who and what to believe can make one feel insane! 

Even with all of this being true, there still IS right and wrong.

Yes, my perception is vastly different from yours. Yes, we're all too easily manipulated. Yes, we are, without fail, predictable creatures. And, yes, we all have our preconceived notions about things, other people, far off places and most things, both experienced and imagined. But, let's not forget, there are some fundamental things that are "simply" right and wrong, too. 

Apologies without behavioral changes is just more manipulation. 

Just saying "I'm sorry" doesn't cut it, people. Grow the fuck up. Fix your shit or keep your mouth shut. 

Causing another harm, be it physical or emotional pain, is unacceptable.

See, we've all "signed off" on a social contract that simply states, "I don't get to hurt you". When you violate that contract there are consequences. One doesn't get to play the victim, after stabbing someone else in the back. See this big fucking knife right here? Yeah, you did that! Just stop. 

Unfortunately, there is NO karma or real justice to be had. 

The sad, simple truth is, there is no karma; there is no real justice; there is no "big reward for being a good person", just like there's no "real fucking horrible punishment" for all those assholes. After it's all said and done, what I've seen is that, unfortunately, the "bad guy" usually wins. There's no justice for most victims. Even if your "perpetrator" goes away, goes to jail, or even dies, is that really justice? Does it give you back ANYTHING you lost? I've seen more assholes get away with shit than I care to think about. I've also seen more good people suffer than I can stomach. The universe/God/karma police don't actually hand out gold stars or demerits according to behavior. You do NOT "reap what you sow". You don't "get what you give". That's just stupid shit that we say to each other to try to make ourselves feel better in the moment. Deep down, you know it's true. 

In the end, just be a good fucking person.

I'm a strong woman. I'm a loving mother. I'm a caring sister. I was a kind daughter and a devoted wife. I'm an independent in my thinking and my political views. I'm a fierce friend. I'm an atheist.  I'm also a good fucking person. Let's all just aim for that, okay? But, please don't get stuck in thinking that "your way is the only way" or that "you're always right and everyone else is always wrong". Just be a good fucking person. 

Take a deep breath y'all, it's just another day in Perfect! 

Speaking From Experience

Here are the things you need to know about me before you read the rest of this:

I'm a woman.  A woman who has experienced gun violence perpetrated against me.  A woman that's been physically and sexually abused by men.  A woman that's held a gun in my own hands, debating on whether or not to end the life of one of my perpetrators.  A woman who has had five "spontaneous abortions" (the grotesque, but still utilized medical term for what we all call a 'miscarriage').  A woman that's had to struggle with infertility and being able to stay pregnant.  A woman that had to be on hormone injections, daily, to even stay pregnant.  A woman that had to face the very real possibility that I was going to have to have a late term abortion to remove one of my "so very hard fought for" fetuses from my body due to a genetic condition that would have killed my sweet baby mere moments after its birth.  I've also worked with and for the police department.  I've worked in the school system.  

So, when I say that I'm "speaking from experience", the above information is what I'm referring to.  

I've seen both sides of most of the "hot button" issues our country is facing.  I've been the victim and I've wanted to murder someone.  I've been the one that fought for my pregnancy and the one that lost children.  I've been protected by people with badges and guns, that allowed me to do my job safely and I've been scared to death, running "safety drills" inside of a school.  

I have family and friends that are or were police officers and I have family and friends that are or were teachers.  I'm friends with people that hunt and people that are vegan.  I was raised Southern Baptist but have grown to be an atheist.  I've read every single page of the Bible and our Constitution.  I've shook the hands of Buddhists, Muslims, Jews, Pagans, Wiccans and others that didn't even have a name for what they felt was their "religion".  I've listened to Native American people tell their sacred stories, with rapt attention to every detail.  I've valued every one of these people, even though we were aren't the same in many ways. 

Here's what I can say, speaking from experience, we're far more alike than we are different though. Most people are doing the best that they can.  Most people want to love and to be loved.  Most people want to do no harm.  Most people just want to make it home safely at the end of the night to see their family, their friends, their pets.  Most people see the value of life.  The hardest part these days seems to be agreeing on what those things even mean. 

We can't even agree on whom we're "allowed to love"; whom we can call "our family"; what constitutes being "safe".  

Speaking from experience, I know that "it" isn't easy.  There is no "one size fits all" answer to "hot button" issues like gun control and abortion.  What I think that MOST people are truly sick of is hypocrisy.  I think most of us are tired of hearing how "my side is right and your side is wrong", even when BOTH SIDES are saying the EXACT SAME THING, just about different subjects!  But, what makes most of us angry is the fact that we seem to have just . . . . .given up.  Resigned ourselves to the notion that we can't make it better, do better. . . .BE BETTER!  

We absolutely HAVE to do better.  We owe it to our children and their children.  We have to try.  

Speaking from experience, laws are ONLY EVER FOLLOWED by the lawful.  That doesn't mean that we have NO LAWS.  That just makes no sense.  Speaking from experience, I've never had to have an abortion, but at the time where I MIGHT have HAD to have one, it was legal and I'm thankful that that was the case.  I'm saddened to think that I would have either had to become a criminal or force a baby to be born into this world only to suffer and live for mere hours.  Speaking from experience, the reason I didn't kill my perpetrator, honestly, had NOTHING to do with the idea of "jail time" and everything to do with not hurting his family.  Speaking from experience, I would never want to live in a country without an armed police force to serve and protect me.  I also wouldn't want to be asked to carry a gun into my classroom, in order to do that for my students.  

I recognize that these are hard things.  We can do hard things.  We've DONE hard things.  Let's figure this out together . . . . .speaking from experience, not premise; speaking from experience, not spoon fed  rhetoric; speaking from experience that has shaped us, formed us and made us wise to the ways of the world!

Let's all take a deep breath, it's just another day in "Perfect". . . . .

Capacity?

You know what I'm sick of?  Pretty much fucking everything.  No.  I mean it.  Really.  EVERYTHING!  If there was a little "timer" that would/could pop out of the side of each and every one of us "humans" that indicated when we've just "had enough". . . mine would have popped about a year and half ago.  (And don't we all kinda wish that such a thing existed?  Imagine all the bull shit we could prevent from happening?  No more crazed folks running around shooting innocent people.  No way!  We'd be able to "lock people away" until their little "I'VE HAD ENOUGH SHIT" meter returns to "normal"!)

I digress. . . .I mean aren't YOU sick of everything, too?  Such as. . .why on Earth do I need Christmas decorations out for sale in the middle of July?  Really?  Because, of course, there isn't ENOUGH stress put on us moms to make that "blessed holiday" (yeah, right. . .more like COMMERCIALISM AT IT'S FINEST!) bloody perfect every year?  Let's make me start panicking about my inadequacy in the middle of summer?!?  No thanks.

I'm also super tired of politicians.  I hate them all.   I'm tired of being told that I'm an "idiot" and "un-American" for thinking that there's really just no good damn reason for you and I to be able to go out and get a "clip" that holds ONE HUNDRED ROUNDS OF AMMUNITION!  Really?  I'm stupid?  There's something wrong with ME?  I've never heard of a "hunter" needing to shoot a deer a hundred times to kill it.  (Since all I "EVER" seem to hear about is "hunters need their guns for this and hunters need their guns for that. . .)  Not to mention, if I'm using "my gun" to PROTECT myself, again, why do I need 100 bullets to shoot a bad guy?  Are we really THAT worried about the zombie apocalypse?   I'm also tired of them throwing FITS when they "don't get their way" and keep on threatening to "shut the government down".  I find this hilarious because you can bet your sweet ass that they'd keep on getting paid.  Not really "shutting the doors", are ya?  Fuckers.  I hate liars.  I hate fakers.  I hate whiners.  Suck it up and do your damn job for once!

If I see one more Dunkin' Donuts next to a Curves or 24 Hour Fitness I'm going to explode.  What the hell is wrong with us here in America?  People aren't struggling enough with their health and weight, we need to give them some EXTRA temptation?  Come on.  I hate cruelty, too.  And to me. . .this just seems cruel.

Then there are all these damn 'studies' that make each and every one of us either feel stupid and inferior or superior and brilliant.  Again, really?  How much damn money do we spend on 'studies' of NOTHING IMPORTANT?

Speaking of feeling inferior and stupid. . . . why can't women be nice to each other?  I'm tired of being used and abused by people who claim to be my friends.  No good deed goes unpunished there.  Evil knows no bounds in this arena.  Someone knows your inner most secrets?  You can bet she's going to use that to, not only, stab you in the back but also in the front.  The side.  The head.  The shoulder.  The eye.  You name it.  It's apparently not "off limits".  And I love how then they turn around and blame YOU for the "drama" in their lives.  Ummm. . .???  WHAT?

I could go on and on, but really. . .the point is this. . .  .do we each have a set "limit" for what we can take?  How does one go about "resetting" their "capacity timer" once it's gone off?  I'm really struggling with trying to figure this one out.  How do I put the cork BACK IN THE BOTTLE?  How do I STOP feeling overwhelmed with my life and the lives of all of those that intersect mine?  Why do some folks seem to have a much larger capacity for bullshit?  Why am I one of them?  (Or at least USED to be . .)  Why was I able to, quite easily, just sit back and swallow all of the crap that was handed down to me; given to me through little or no choice of my own?  Why now. . .all of the sudden. . .am I UNABLE, perhaps, unwilling, to accept what, once was, not only okay but expected?  Is my current "lack of capacity" a sign of growth or weakness?  Does your level of "capacity" change over time?  Should it?  Can you consciously "adjust" your level?  How can we recognize the "warning signs" in ourselves and those around us that, maybe, just maybe, they've been pushed too far?  Why can't anyone seem to hear me; when I'm so clearly standing in the middle of this room SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS???  (Oh sorry. . . . .my 'turkey timer" popped right out there. . .)  

I just don't know.  I don't know why, or how, or when, or where any of this went off of the rails.  I don't know who am I some days.  When I became this person who I see in the mirror every day.  I don't know how I got here and I certainly don't seem to know where I'm going.  I've lived a lifetime "under my capacity" and now. . . .now that I'm "over it", I'm not sure that I can put the genie back into the bottle.  I'm not sure what it would look like if I allowed myself to be raw. . .edgy. . . hard. . . .bitter. . . .selfish. . . . out of control. . .  ."over capacity".   What would happen if I just SAID what I really thought?  

 

Take a deep breath, it's just another day in Perfect!

What My Divorce Has Taught Me. . . . .

So, it's done.  Finished.  Over with.  My marriage that is. . . .and the divorce.  It's done.  It's . . .all. . . just. . . DONE!  It's strange really.  The divorce took eight minutes.  Yes, you read that correctly.  EIGHT. MINUTES.  That was all the time it took to murder a family.  Eight FUCKING minutes!  They have this shit down, I tell ya. . . .to a science, for sure.  It's very clinical.  They're very clinical.  The magistrate and the recorder.  They sat patiently waiting for my answers to questions that stuck in my throat, through my tears.  But, here's what this has all taught me:

Nothing matters.  No, I don't mean that to sound all cynical and negative.  If anything it's the opposite.  It's the fact that those eight minutes don't really MEAN anything.  I was still the same person I was when I got there, when I left.  I didn't crumble or crack or fall over or. . .DIE, like I thought I was going to.  Did I cry?  Yes!!  Like a fucking BABY!!!!!  I cried on my ex-husband's shoulder.  Yes, you read THAT right, too, I cried on. his. shoulder.  He let me get snot and tears all over his nice shirt.  And you know what?  It didn't matter.  He wasn't pissed about it.  He wasn't "put out".  He can always wash his shirt. It didn't matter that, as of 10 seconds prior to the bawling fit, we were no longer married.  It just, simply, didn't matter.  I was hurting and he held me.  Period. 

It doesn't matter that, as far as the state is concerned, I'm single.  Single, people.  Single.  I haven't been "single" since I was 14 years old back at good old "Smoky Hill High School", just prior to dating Keith!  What does one do some 32 years later?  How does one "date" again?  I have no idea and it doesn't matter anyway.  I'll figure it out.  Or I won't.  Either way, it doesn't really matter.  Life will go on. 

It doesn't matter that I loved my ex-husband in a way that, probably, wasn't healthy.  It doesn't matter that I wish I would have showed him how much I loved him better.  In a way that would have made him KNOW it, every single day.  It doesn't matter that I now know how lucky I was to be allowed to stay at home with our daughters and raise them, the right way, in our eyes.  It doesn't matter that I now realize I should have had more fun when I was there.  I should have allowed myself to go to lunch more often.  I should have stopped cleaning so much and allowed myself to relax.  It doesn't matter that I know for a fact that I tried EVERYTHING I knew how to do to save my marriage.  It doesn't matter that it didn't work.  It just doesn't. . . . . .

If I could give anyone a piece of my heart and some sound advice whilst going through the divorce process it's this. . . .it. doesn't. matter.  That piano doesn't matter.  The house doesn't matter.  Who's right and who's wrong, doesn't matter.  Even when it's GLARINGLY apparent!  None of it matters.  The day that you get a divorce is just like the day before it and the day after it.  There's nothing special about it.  Truly.  There's not!  You'll survive.  It'll be different and painful and difficult and nearly impossible some days, but it, in the end, still doesn't even matter.  You'll wake up tomorrow and put one foot in front of the other.  Then, you'll wake up the next day and do the same.  And the next day and so on, until you forget what even broke you up in the first place.  You'll settle into a routine.  You'll find your path.  There will only be the one set of footprints now, instead of two, but that doesn't matter either.  Eventually, you'll walk so far away that you can't even see the path that you both were walking down, once upon a time. 

Just know that none of this shit, that you're going through right now, matters.  You matter.  Your children (if you have them) matter.  That's really it.  That's all.  Don't make it more than it is.  Don't make it less than it is.  It's a divorce.  That's it.  And really. . . . .it just doesn't even matter! 

Take a deep breath. . . . it's just another day in Perfect!  

On The Eve Of Our Divorce. . . . .

In twelve short days, I'll no longer be your wife.  Yes, you've left our home many days ago. . . nearly a year's worth of days, actually, but still.  In twelve days, my life will be different.  I will no longer be able to say that I'm "your wife".  There will be no question, during conversation, as to how to qualify you.  You will be my EX-husband and I your EX-wife.  What does that even mean?  Does it mean that we stop loving each other?  Does it mean that we never DID love each other?  Does it mean that all of the caring, loving, hurting, crying, sharing, building, creating, worrying, fretting, celebrating, enjoying didn't matter?  Does it mean that we wasted twenty two years of our lives with the "wrong person"?  How is one supposed to be able to survive such a drastic change?  How will I breathe deeply ever again?  How will I ever relax again?  How will I ever allow someone in again?

In twelve short days, everything changes.  I will be single.  SINGLE.  Legally. . . S.I.N.G.L.E.  I will be solitary.  Individual.  Separate.  Cleaved.  Changed.

In twelve short days, my identity changes.  Forever.  I don't even know how to start to find "me".  I've spent twenty two years loving you.  I spent twenty two years focusing on you.  In all of that time, I gave little to no thought to "me".  Now, suddenly the world expects me to just "figure it out" and "do what I want to do".  But, how can that happen when I've spent so much time NOT thinking of myself?  How do you just wake up one day and start to be selfish?  How am I supposed to just stop thinking about you?  Worrying about you?  Loving you?  Caring about you?  Who am I without YOU?  My identity has been so closely tied to you that I don't really have one OUTSIDE of you or the idea of "you and I".

In twelve short days, I'll be free to love again.  You'll be free to do the same.  But, how?  When?  Where?  Will I EVER be open again?  How will I take the broken pieces of my tiny, fragile heart and glue them back together enough to even allow anyone else to look at it, much less, touch it or hold it?  Love ME???  No way.  That's terrifying!  What worse?  Knowing that someone else will love you.  Hold you.  Comfort you.  I don't want you to be unhappy or unloved, so these are things that I truly wish for you but I'd be lying if I said that a little part of me didn't die every time I think of someone else being "your wife".

So, in twelve short days, our divorce will be final.  It appears, however, that nothing else is quite so clear cut for me.  The papers have all been filed.  What's done is done.  There's no stopping it all know.  But, tell that to my heart.  Tell it to stop aching.  Tell my eyes to stop crying.  Tell my brain to stop thinking of the millions of things I did wrong; that drove you away.  Tell my body to stop longing for your touch.  Or my ears from wanting to hear you say "I love you", just one more time.

Take a deep breath, in twelve short days, it'll be just another day in Perfect. . . . .