Love resides here…

17 03 2014

I am in the mist of this really good thing.  It is a world of enough.  Enough money, enough love, enough time, where bad things never happen.  Like some paralleled universe to my own and when I am in his arms I am so safe.  Everything is quiet and wonderful and the world was created to be enjoyed.

I had to fight back the fear that hit when I first went there.  It felt irrational to feel safe and scared.   Fear that I didn’t belong there and would never live in that world.   I get angry at my brain but I also appreciate it.  I don’t stay stuck too long.  I move on to being OK with who and where I am in my life.

It doesn’t matter if I don’t belong… for what ever reason I am here.  Life is good.  I have for this moment a respite if I take it.  A few days a week of visiting a foreign country and experiencing what the world might have been like had the dice rolled differently on the day I was born.

I take it knowing that the days may be numbered.  That it is just another thing to add to my experience bank.  I drink it in and steal back to my life which is abnormally good right now.  A world of sharing new baby’s, having my needs provided for and being appreciated.

For now we pass from one world to the other seamlessly without settling in.  We are, just for a time, observing.

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Dating and cisgender/transgender issues

28 07 2013

I am over 50 and dating and that has brought up some thoughts on things that I long ago stopped thinking about.  I can’t help but to look at prospective SO’s and consider how they view our gender identity and how we will mesh long-term.

I am far from being OK with guys who say “this is me not giving a f__k” when it comes to the inequity’s that keep woman held down, but feminist issues have stopped being a hot button for me.  Even close inspection barely reveals the feminist who used to dwell here.

The last guy I dated was amazing.  I met him on a dating site and we seemed to be a great match.  When we started talking he said “I am one of the first metro-sexual’s”.  For the first few dates that seemed wonderful.

We went to his place and it was spotless.  He didn’t just cook, he was a chef and he prepared meals for us with ingredients I hadn’t heard of till then.  He always looked polished and didn’t mind wearing a suit, even though jeans were more his style.

Being with him was easy.  Our days together flowed without conflict, but I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t commit to a long-term relationship with him because I realized that I didn’t feel necessary in the relationship.

Looking back I have the benefit of logic that was lost on me at the time.  I was an idiot.  He was with me because he wanted someone to share his life with and I was good at that but it wasn’t enough for me.  I felt so insecure that I couldn’t get comfortable.

Have you ever been in a relationship where they broke it off saying “it’s not you, its me” well maybe you can believe that when I tell you that is EXACTLY what I felt here.  Everything about him was wonderful.

For a year and a half now I have reflected on what was wrong with me!  I have felt undeserving of a relationship since because I felt that God gave me something really good and I tossed it aside like it was nothing.

I wish I could say ‘I have come a long way baby’ but what I realize is that as I have gotten older I have solidified my cisgender qualities.

In my 20’s I had gender issues that ranged from fears that my size kept me from being feminine enough to being blind furious that when ever I made enough money to survive, and it put me in direct conflict with angry men who thought I had no right to compete with them for “jobs that could feed their families”.

I was 29 when I learned to dance.  Not that wiggly independent do what ever you feel to the music dancing, but the kind where he takes you across the floor and you know nothing about what you’re doing but you’re doing it because he directs every move wordlessly with everything he does.

It is hard to be a feminist when what you want most is to feel that again.  To be able to follow blindly and trust that the result isn’t going to reflect that you had no idea where you were going:  You won’t stumble and he won’t take you anywhere you don’t want to go.

Not long after that a friend said, “Let a man take care of you.  You know you can so you have nothing to prove, and it makes them feel good to let them do it”.  Between that and what I felt on the dance floor it changed everything I ever felt about gender roles and woman’s equality.

In the last 25 years I have molded myself into the woman who loves to clean house; takes pride in the fact that she can hand sew a stitch so perfect that it looks machined, loves the smell and feel of laundry just out of the dryer but wants her sheets line dried so her bed is “sunshine fresh”, and enjoys pressing perfect pleats into “permanent press” clothing.

After over a year of hard contemplation I realize that’s less who I am then what I do and hopefully when I meet the next perfect guy we will mesh more comfortably then I did with the last one:  I think I am ready to try again.

 





The rest of the story…

27 06 2013

Everyone who knows me knows that I have been raped, and knows very personally how damaged I have been by it.  Few know the other side, because it took a lot of digging for me to get it:  It was so that I had the answers that I needed, not for anyone else.

Now I have been sucked in to this story that I found and the wave of opinions that followed, and I think its worth the telling.

Over a decade ago I moved back to the town I was raped in.  It had been a long time since I had lived there and little was familiar anymore.  The bar where we hung out was there but repainted and under another name.

That lonely street it was on had become a business district so little else looked the same.  My daughter lived in a new apartment complex just a bit further up the street so that I had to drive right past it to see her.   The first few times I could barely drive past without being sick, but it wasn’t long till it began to be just a part of the neighborhood she lived in.

We were out together in her car one day and I had this over whelming need to go looking for where I had been raped.  I hadn’t thought about it at all in a long time but that day I was driven by the feeling it had to be done right then.

My Daughter looked at me a bit worried, but took me where I asked her to.  It was miles out that road and I had only been there that one night over a decade before.  Didn’t know if I could even find it.  Then I saw it in the distance and the knot in my stomach said that we had to turn back, that was all the further I could go.

A long time past without a thought about it, when again I felt this overwhelming need to be there.  Again I was with my Daughter.  This time it was late and we drove right up to where it was.

The business was closed and almost looked abandoned.  We got out and climbed though the fence and looked around.  I looked in a window and the bed where I was raped was still there just as it had been years before.  That seemed to be enough and I let it go.

The last time we went there I had been obsessed with thoughts all day that I had to go there and called my Daughter.  She said that she would go with me.  This time we went when the business would be open.  I wanted to see him.  To know how he was.

We walked in the door and the man at the counter was not familiar at all.  He was waiting on a customer, so I looked around the room till there was no one left but the two of us.  On the wall by the door were a bunch of pictures posted on a pin-up board and one of them was Doug.

Seeing that face was painful and I was glad when I could get a moment alone with the guy at the counter.  I asked for Doug and he said, “There is no one here by that name”.  I told him that was his picture there on the wall and he said “ohhh, yea he died a few years back just before I started working here.”

I thanked him and he went back to working and as I was leaving I had this need to have that picture.  I grabbed it off the board as I left.  I was crying as I got into the car and showed it to my Daughter.  “MOM, I can’t believe you stole that picture!”  I didn’t know why but I knew I needed it.

That night I scanned it and put it on my computer.  It brought up a whole ton of feelings I had long forgotten so I just spent the night processing them all.  The next morning I went to take the picture back and talk to the guy at the counter and see if he knew any thing more.

When I came in this time no one was there and the same man was behind the counter.   I told him what I did and apologized for taking the photo.   “I’m sure that you can keep it, it seems to mean more to you than it would to anyone here”.

I told him I needed to know what happened to him.  “He was good friends with the mechanic down the street and was married I think.”   Here is the guys card.  I’m sure he would be happy to meet a friend of Doug’s and talk to you if you wished.

This time I couldn’t let it go.  I called the number on the card, to speak to this man who knew Doug so well.  “It’s funny how you should call now”, he said, “Yesterday was his birthday”.   “He committed suicide 3 years ago.”  He gave me the number of Doug’s wife, and said if I would like to come by and talk I was welcome to do so anytime.

I hung up and called her number and gave her my name.  She knew that I had been a friend of Doug’s but she didn’t seem to know  much more about me.  She said she loved him very much but that “he seemed a haunted man”.  “It was hard to get him to leave his room, then finally one day he just ended his life and left her and her daughter to deal with the loss”.

It isn’t every guy that will carry a shit load of guilt for getting away with what he did.  I am positive that this one did.  I think HE was the driving force that kept bringing me back there.  I think he needed to work it through as well.

I know Doug didn’t just go on like nothing happened.  I wasn’t the only victim that night.  I wrote a few poems and processed the grief for a while and have pretty much left it at praying that he finally has peace.  I know that after this that I did.





Virtual Dating and other realities.

5 06 2013

There are some realities about caring for a family member that having a computer has made so much easier.  Shopping on line is one of them.  I have even shopped for a mate on line and it does have some advantages.

When your housebound it also gives you another option, virtual dating.  I was introduced to this option by someone from OKCupid who took me to Secondlife for virtual dating experiences.  I am over 50 years old and I am sure younger people have no problem with this, but for me this was a problem.

To start with navigation has to be learned.  I love my computer for many things but I have not spent much time playing RPG’s on it.  I was quickly able to figure things out well enough to walk from one point to another.  It took me longer to follow when someone could virtually pop from one place to another, and keeping them from getting bored while I fumbled around with the controls was even harder than learning navigation.

The first thing you do is make an Avatar or a virtual representation of yourself to use in your ‘Secondlife’ account.  Remember when your Mother told you that you could be anything you wanted to be?  Well, here you really can.  You can be young, thin, tall, blond, and you can make this virtual space as much your life as any you currently live.  You can choose a career, design your own stuff, even run a virtual business.

Shock and dismay here but you can even use REAL money to by virtual stuff.  I can see this being a generational issue but I am doing non virtual stuff to earn that money and spending it on Virtually NOTHING is still beyond my comprehension.

We had a few dates on secondlife but not successfully.  While these times did get to be enjoyable much of my time not wrapped in this new world of possibilities was spent deciding just how much I was willing to let my secondlife take up of my first one.

I put an end to the virtual dating a short time after trying it.  I have been around a while and have a history of making choices that put me virtually as much as possible in the world that I believe I am living.  I have refused to be medicated long-term for anything, and don’t often drink or use drugs as I feel doing so takes away from my ability to experience this existence.

I also wanted to be in a relationship with another human being in such a way that I could feel that I knew them.  I believe; that the only point of this life is to experience living it, that when I look into someones eyes I can know what they are feeling,   that we can actually share our true character with another human being, and that they are able to share theirs with us.  How would either of us know if anything that we were sharing in that virtual world had any validity at all?  If I couldn’t then what was the point?

My brother likes video games.  He has one game that virtually puts you behind the wheel of what ever car you want to drive on almost any racetrack in the world.  It is so perfect in its re-creation that there is reflection from the signage in the front end of the car as you go around the track.  In another game he rides a horse through the old west.  I have been on a horse; what you see on the screen is incredibly true to that experience!

We are blessed to live in an age of infinite possibilities.  It may be a true measure of my age in how resistant I have become to embracing all of them, but I have spent more than a little time lately thinking how much it will influence my ability to make what I consider “real” connections with people in the future, when so many others do.





There was a girl…

18 02 2013

with a pretty little curl right in the middle of her forehead, when she was good she was very very good, and when she was bad she was horrid!

I woke up this morning realizing that I had been really bad yesterday, horrible, awful, bad.  I didn’t work out thinking I would do it later and instead I ran off to meet the guy who will mentor me in this bike trip.

We had some very strong coffee and I really enjoyed our time together.  It was really good to get a chance to know him.  We have kindred spirits.

I gave him a gift of banana bread and he gave me a cookie, which I popped into my mouth immediately before he could suggest that I start with only half.  His gift was more special then mine.

By the time I got home I was laughing my behind off.  Then I was wishing I had stayed and spent some personal time with him.  After that I started eating everything in the house.  Every crappy cream filled, sugary, salty no no thing in the house was on the list.

When I realized that single handedly I had eaten a whole bag of chips, (eeek! all that salt!) I made myself take a nap to quit!  7 hours later I woke up and it was dark.  I wasted that day!  I wanted to get up and make amends for it by jumping back into working out and behaving, and yet I was really NOT wanting to.  My body was just not into that idea.

Finally this morning I put on the music and made myself move and I was really feeling how hard it was to push myself to do it.  I am getting pain in some mussels like my abs which I am usually very unaware of.  After my 40 minutes, I felt pretty happy with myself.

Then I took my BP and went to put it down, and actually counted it out and realized that I had SKIPPED 3 DAYS, before I started working out again.  No wonder my body put up such a fuss!  Now I am recommitted to doing this everyday and back to my healthier way of eating…Oatmeal anyone???





Dating and other suicidal tenancies…

15 08 2012

Have you ever computer dated?  You write a witty ad.  Put up a pic and wait for someone to show interest and see where that goes.  This is the equivalent of cutting behavior, without the fear that anyone will see the scars!

By sheer numbers alone it should make it easier to find someone to be with.  And for me it worked pretty well twice.  If you count answering someone else’s ad, three times but while I have met and shared really wonderful times with wonderful people … I really haven’t found what I’m looking for and now I am back to not looking.

I have a good life.  Real friends, close family, and more than enough going on to never get bored.  That should be enough.  Well that and my Battery operated boyfriend, which by the way I was too chicken shit to take on the plane and left in California!

It was for that reason I went on a ‘meet and greet’ yesterday, if you can call it that.  I would like to explain GREET: Give a polite word or sign of welcome or recognition to (someone) on meeting.

He had been insisting on meeting me and asked me to meet him for just one kiss while I was out, and I requested the meet and greet at Mc Donald’s instead.  I asked him to think about letting some sexual tension build between us first as it might change the outcome of that kiss.

When he first made that request I freaked and deleted my OKCupid account.  I realized instantly that while I am lonely, I am just not ready to meet someone.  Since I had started this by opening the account and inviting the exchange I felt the need to follow it through.

In one way it made sense.  Really!  I spent months in a relationship with someone thinking we were really compatible, but while I liked them immensely it just didn’t work out between us.   I really did wonder if love was just a chemical reaction and either we have it with someone or we don’t?

I have felt it when I first met someone but I don’t have enough experience to know if it’s something that will also come with time.   Why not let a kiss be the answer?  Why waste the time when we’re really not getting any younger?  Maybe it is as good a way as any to start a relationship.

When I got there I saw only young kids in the front of the restaurant so I bought my soda and walked around to the back and he waved from across the room … didn’t stand … looked disappointed … stared at his watch… asked when I had to leave.   I said an hour and a half and he looked at his watch again then and said “I have to take the truck back to my friend pretty soon”.

At this I couldn’t help but smile up at him with my biggest smile like I just didn’t get the clue.  We both sat there across the table from each other in awkward silence where part of me was reluctant to let him off the hook till I tired of torturing him, made an excuse to leave the restaurant with a ‘will call you’ and drove off.

I want to know how guys can instantly decide in that 16th of a second that you are not worth their time, like it is all on the line the moment you meet. I have met guys that said they were 5’10” and showed up 2″ shorter than my 5’7″ and still gave them the courtesy of looking for some kind of connection.

He was not the first to do so but he was by far the rudest.  I am not used to being treated like that, but I am grateful.  This site keeps calling to me like that shiny piece of glass used to when I was young.  I don’t know why I feel the need to do it, but again I feel that pain and know it was just what I needed at the time.

Thank you, It was very nice meeting you Mike.  Hopefully I won’t need to do that again for a while.





Thank you Ariel Gore…

21 07 2012

Because of you today I branded myself.  “She spent her life not able to hang on to anything until the day she got it all!”

It kind of gives me something to hang on to that looks a little like hope, or promise of some kind of future different then the life I have known.  One where I won’t push everyone I love away feeling like I’m poison.  A future where I don’t need to sleep on the floor or to discard everything I love to make sure that I never get comfortable, never trust.

If you have read any of my other posts you know I am 3000 miles from my kids, cat computer, lover, paintings and the few possessions that I had managed to hang on to over the years.

I never seem to keep more then what will fit in a mid-sized car, and it alarms me now to count how many times I have found myself exactly where I am with nothing but a few clothes and a toothbrush over a thousand miles from anything that meant home to me.

I think, “well things don’t really mean anything to me” but that would mean I wouldn’t miss them and for the most part I don’t … but parts of me do, and they bleed for paintings that they can’t ever finish.  Or the book that took them years to write, that is lost.  The cat that was the only animal in 50 years that I have ever had that I attached to.  The grandchild that month after month calls someone else Grandma and has forgotten that I exist.  The stuffed animal my daughter had given me, that my step daughter hugged in my favorite picture of her just before the state stepped in to take her away.

(It was the death of my second marriage that my husband signed his rights away; as I too grew up in foster care.)

I know what it is, to know as a small child that you owe a debt to people who abuse you, “for the food in your mouth and the shoes on your feet”.  I knew that anything could be taken from me without warning or even a nod to the fact that I might have a need or want that it should be different; as an Adult I do it to myself, again and again.

“Velcro not strings” is the handle I chose because I have spent probably too much time on dating sites and there are so many ads for relationships with no strings attached.  At times I think that is the Only type of relationship I should be in.  I get that it is hard for people to deal with all the changes with me, but the one that I want is that heart to heart forever love that’s unbreakable and endures beyond the simple trappings of the life we share here.

I am in a funny sort of long distance, on again off again, relationship with someone and as with every relationship I have ever been in I keep hoping that it’s the last relationship I will have.  That this will be my “till death do us part”.  I feel for him though.  

This isn’t the first time I am made aware that to be in my life is to be damaged by me.  Not because I am abusive or intentionally harm others but because the changeable nature of who I am makes it impossible to depend on me.  I make plans for the future and forget them when in their mind those plans were solid and real.  I start things that never get finished.  Treat you like your gold one day and like I don’t know who you are the next.

In spite of all these things, to my total dismay that lover/boyfriend refuses to let me go, my family embraces me like I am precious to them, my grandchildren call in the middle of the night to say how much they miss me, and my friends have always stayed true friends to me.  They all tolerate my coming and going, intensity and abandonment over and over again and still have kind things to say to me.  They put out a welcome mat and still wish me to darken their doorway.

My dream is of a day: when I will have a place to really call my home; a huge communal space filled with children, art and music and vibrant with activity, containing everyone I love who wishes to be there; when with or without a marriage license I will find that love that want’s my energy and their’s to vibrate as one for all time and eternity; and when I won’t use strings to bind me to all that I love, but crazy glue!








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