Day 299: A Silly Little Thing Called Happy
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
"You're taking it well," my friend said as I told her about my intention to end things with Sir Quips-A-Lot. She was right. IT was like having a 185 pound BM. And IT was great.
I had tons of energy and launched right into Fall cleaning [yes, I said cleaning], planting 32 mums [love 'em], boot shopping galore [I am addicted - I admit it], sorting Christmas lights [so my gaudy house can be visible from outerspace] - and oh yes, living a life of my very own. [Sweetness.]
I was certain that I made the right decision with Sir Quips-A-Lot. And then the - sorry I was an ____hole [his word, not mine] letter - with a heart sticker on the envelope arrived in the mail. [Crud.]
Honestly, this summer was all about spreading my wings and being naughty in a body in which I loved doing naughty things [and let's just say - I had a blast.]
It was also about self-discovery.
In my sporadic dating past, my pattern was to initiate dating in the spring and scurry back inside just when the heat spiked in the summer [because I felt completely self-conscious in my skin.]
This summer I found out that I get bored with dating - not because of what was once low self-esteem or body-hatred - but because its contrived nature is just kind of boring to me.
For me, it can be something I do every now and then - like vacuuming or cleaning the top of the refrigerator. It does not need to be some mandatory mission.
Maybe it's because I don't have any biological urgencies - like things ticking inside my body. My uterus might just be taking up space - like the magic flame box in the kitchen.
Maybe I don't like dudes I'm dating in my personal space or my house [like stop touching my stuff?!] or the obligatory bathroom cleaning that comes with having "company" over [sigh] or gnat-like attention spans that need to obsessively change channels every 20 seconds.
Maybe I really like my space and freedom - like all of it [not just the negotiated bits.]
Or maybe I am just this silly little thing called happy.
Just like I am.
Somewhere along the way [somewhere between crying over Ezekial bread early this summer to now - and the strength I feel from the invaluable lessons I learned dating and Sir Quips-A-Lot]...
Life became succulent and juicy and about more than just numbers or other people's ideas of who I should be.
I wasn't waiting to be loved by men or my family - I learned to love me first.
I wasn't waiting for acceptance - I had to accept me or change me or both.
I wasn't allowing anyone to get in my way - not anyone. No exceptions.
This was definitely not what I was looking for when I started my journey 10 months ago.
But this summer my "normal" became normal.
My normal became my peace.
So the letter from Sir Quips-A-Lot was a lost cause. I was still angry at that point ['cause I don't like being likened to a third-grader.] In my world, there is no justification for calling someone stupid.
That's when I embrace my inner "oh no he didn't" and fight for my power.
Name-calling like that is all about taking someone's power.
So he had to go. That is all. No exceptions.
Dont' get me wrong the dates were fantabulous - however, less talking by him would have been more. [Note to self: Consider dating mimes.]
Anyway, I recycled the letter. I deleted the phone calls. Done. Next.
Summer is over, but I will remember it like it was the best summer of my life - because it was.
And I learned lots about myself and from Sir Quips-A-Lot.
Like listen more to words in between the lines and ask better questions and give better answers [I am pretty sure that is called communication].
Also, did you know eggs have an expiration date? [I know. Right?!] This was information he happily offered while inspecting my fridge - and after he found 4-month old eggs. I now realize why he insisted on buying groceries and cooking every meal or eating out...
In his final letter he said: "You deserve the best this world has to offer, please do not settle for less."
This is not something I needed to re-learn.
But it doesn't hurt to be reminded every now and then.