Giving and receiving. . . .a scary proposition

I've had something of an epiphany in the last week or so.  I don't know what to do about it, with it, for it. . .whatever.  I'm at a loss.  Truly.

I found out that I don't "accept" anything from people on purpose.  I try my damnedest to not "receive".  I like to give. . .hell, I LOVE to give.  I'll give until I'm so depleted that I have nothing left and then, I'll give some MORE!!!  I like that feeling.  I like to feel empty.  Hollow.  Incomplete.  It feels comfortable to me.  It feels like home.  More over, it feels safe.  If I don't allow you to give to me then it won't hurt so badly when you leave.  I don't want to get used to "getting" from you, because then. ..when it's over, I'll miss it.  I'll miss you.  I can't have that.  No.  Really.  I. Can't. Have. That.

I've built this little protective wall around myself that won't let anyone get too close to me.  Sure, I've got friends whom I'm honest with about my life, my feelings, my dreams, etc.  That's not what I'm talking about.   It's this intangible "thing" that I don't ever receive.  I don't take it in.  Ever.  When I feel myself being tempted to "take something", I step away.  I RUN away ---  FAST!!!

My husband is often angry with me because when he asks me what I "want" for Christmas or my birthday, I immediately say "I don't NEED anything."  He then repeats the question, with an emphasis on the WANT part.  I repeat my answer again.  We like to go back and forth like this for weeks.  Years, even.  It makes me feel good to not want/need anything.  It makes him feel like shit that he can't "provide" anything for me.  That part makes me sad.  My intention is not to make him feel badly, at all.  My sole intention is to not need him.  For anything.  Ever.  How shitty is that?  True.  But, shitty, nonetheless.

You see, I don't want to hurt when he leaves me.  I don't want to "miss" any part of him.  Of us.  I don't want to let him "get under my skin".  Oh, we have two beautiful daughters together.  We have a gorgeous home.  We have food in the kitchen.  A nice car in the garage.  He's provided all of these things.  But, see, for me. . .they're just "things".  Not being big on "things", it makes it quite easy for me to down play their value.  Important as they all are, I don't "NEED" them, at all.  I could live in an apartment, eating ramen, driving a POS that was safe and be happy as a clam.  I'm "over the moon" happy that my children don't have to live in an apartment, eating nothing but ramen and riding around in a car that would probably embarrass them.  But see. . .that's for them.  Not me.  I can keep my distance from it all.  That way. . .when it's all taken away from me, I don't have to long for it back.  I won't miss it.  Right?

More than that, I won't let those around me "give to me" more than I "give back".  I want to know that I've helped someone today.  Yesterday.  Tomorrow.  I want to know that I've made a difference.  A real difference.  But, I don't want to be known as "that girl who's so damn needy".  That's my biggest fear.  Seeming needy.  I want to be able to go to bed each night KNOWING that I gave back more than I took.

It all "sounds good", right?  Wrong.  I've found that I've kept people at a distance in such a way, invisible and intangible as it may be, that I've stopped myself from loving them as completely as I could have otherwise.  That barrier that I created works both ways.  I've kept the pain out, but I've kept the love out, too.  In making sure that I had no "ties that bind", has left me free floating out in space somewhere.  Alone.  Cold.  Silent.  In a self-inflicted prison with no visitors.  Safe?  Perhaps.  Lonely?  Not always.  Free of pain?  Of sorts.  Empty?  You, bet.

So, I suppose that if I had to have a "resolution" for this year, it would be, to let you in.  To let you GIVE to me.  To accept love without boundaries.  To allow myself to feel the warmth of the fire without worrying that someone's going to come along and douse it.  Fear has ruled my life for far too long.  No more.  I want to want.

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

Moving On, Growing Up. . . .and a Bunch of Other Crap We All Hate To Do.

So, it's January.  New year, new start.  All that bull shit.  What January is to me is just the beginning of doing it all over again.  You know what I mean.  Now, the next holiday is Valentine's Day, instead of Christmas.  That's it.  No more.  No less.  Now, of course, I don't have to DO as much for Valentine's Day as I have to do for Christmas, but the premise is the same.  Keep up with the Jones' in Perfect.  What are "they" doing for the "holiday"?  What fantastic place are "they" jetting off to?  Buy a bunch of crap that no one wants or needs but ABSOLUTELY has to have.  Same shit.  Different day.

But this. . .THIS January did mark something "new" for me.  This New Year's Day started the sixty day count down to the big four-oh.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen I will be turning forty in fifty-three short days.  That's got me thinking. . . .not the "new year".  Not the hustle and bustle of the "over done" holiday season, but this impending date on the calendar.  I'm not afraid to turn forty.  Quite the contrary, I'm running to it.  I'm excited by it.  I. can't. wait.  No, no. . .you don't need to call the men with that funny jacket to come take me away, I'm quite lucid.  I'm just. . .really. . . .ready.

I'm ready to feel more like myself.  Which is what I've been doing, without really knowing it, for the last few years.  I've been removing things from my life that don't suit me.  Simplifying.  Creating better friendships.  Stronger.  More real.  Focusing on what I want to do with my life, when I grow up.  Let's face it, I'm as grown up as I'm ever gonna be, at this point.  Trying to utilize my energy towards being better.  Being a better wife, mother, friend, sister, cousin, niece.  Seeing that my life was already full and glorious and meaningful and hard and fantastic and troubling and beautiful and boring and, you get the idea.  I really have started to see it.  I mean REALLY see it.  As in, I was blind, but now I see, kinda see it.  For the first time.

I've embraced my life.  I've come to accept those things which I can not change and hell, I've even changed of few them anyway!  TAKE THAT!!!  But, perhaps more surprising than that has been the flip side of that coin.  I've moved on.  Shocking, I know.  Believe me. . .no one is more surprised than me.  No one likes to "cling" to shit more than me.  But, alas. . . .I've let it go.  Not all of "it", of course.  Some things that I never thought I would be able to stop hurting about have just disappeared, as if by magic.

How did I do it?  You might ask.  Here's the long and the short of it.  I didn't do a thing.  Not. one. thing.  It's true people.  The only way out is ------ through.  You HAVE to go through it.  Every bit of it.  Every ugly, painful, stinky part of "it".  Whatever "it" is for you.  I felt it all.  I wallowed in the agony of it.  I bathed in the stink of it.  I swallowed the brine and allowed it to nauseate me, every. single. day.  I lived and breathed it.  Day in.  Day out.  Then, without me even noticing, I just. . . .didn't anymore.

One of my favorite sayings is "When someone shows you who they are.  Believe them."  I've been living by that for the last couple of years and it has helped me immensely.  One of my NEW favorite sayings is "You've gotta let go of what hurts, to make room for what feels good.".  Oh yeah. . .let it wash over you, people.  Breathe THAT in.  Drink THAT down.  Taste THAT!  (It's good, right????)    Now. Hold on to yourself. . . .when you combine the two, you're UNSTOPPABLE!  I've started to see folks for who they are and IF they choose to hurt me over and over again, I remove them from my life to make room for those folks who love me and make me feel good.  Plain and simple, y'all.

So, over the holiday's I had a few occasions to put this to use.  I did it, every single time.  I don't know where the inner strength came from honestly.  Was it that voice in the back of my head saying "Girl!  You're going to be forty fucking years old in a few months.  Grow up already!"?  Perhaps.  Was it something in me that just 'snapped' and no longer allows people to just shit on me without consequence? Maybe.  Who cares?  Not me.

(Smelling salts administered)  Are you back with me?  I know.  I know. . .who the hell am I and what have I done with "The Perfect Wife"?  I have no idea.  Maybe, I'll start a new blog called "The REAL Wife"!   Or maybe "Real Life".  Who knows.  All I know is that, if you've wronged me, fear not.  I don't hate you.  I feel sorry for you.  Because I'm a really nice person.  I'm an amazing friend.  I'm a great sister.  Pretty damn good wife.  A "work in progress" Mom.  If I loved you and you let me go.  It's YOUR loss.  Because there are few people on this planet that love as deeply, truly, unconditionally as I do.  I would have loved you forever, if you would have let me.  Alas, I love myself, now.  I'm real.  I'm valuable.  I'm flawed.  I'm a grown up.  I don't have time to fuck with you.  Moving on.  Growing up.  Letting it go.  Seeing who you are.  Believing you.  Holding on to what feels good, not what hurts.

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