Stream of Consciousness: Reactions

I don't know where to start with this one, so I'm just going to write.  The title will come later, it may be edited significantly, heck - I might not even post it.  But I just want to write.

I've been thinking a lot about my past and reactions.  I had a good conversation today with a friend who mentioned that she thinks her reactions say a lot about who she is as a person.  I looked back at my life and said, "I don't know... I'm not proud of a lot of my reactions in certain situations, in fact, I often don't think I was acting like myself at all.  At least, not the person I want to be or feel I truly am."  And she said that she wasn't necessarily pleased with hers either.  Which got me thinking... Do our reactions to situations really tell a lot about who we are as people?  Or is it our reactions to our reactions - our feelings regarding the reacting we did - that truly define us?  (Granted, as long as we act on those feelings and change if we feel like we need to.  As I do.)

Anyway, I thought back to how I reacted in a lot of situations.  My first partnership - a business partnership, so to say - where I constantly felt like the subordinate one.  Where I'd keep my mouth shut for nine years because I was afraid at making him mad at me.  Is this where I never learned how to fight?  Or was it that my parents never taught me how or that it was okay?  Either way, I felt I couldn't speak up when he would get increasingly frustrated with me for what I thought to be no reason at all.  But I'd internalize it and blame myself, knowing if there was no obvious external reason then clearly I had to be the reason.

And then I finally did open my mouth to talk back.

I remember the first time I did... it was so liberating after so many years of not saying anything and taking it all personally.  I snapped, and I told him that I didn't understand what was bothering him so if he could please tell me then maybe, together, we could fix it since in a partnership it's rarely just one person's fault.  I thought this was logical enough, but he fought back.  And so went the next few months.  Then we made a change, life was fine for a while, and then he would grow frustrated again.  I tried to ask what was wrong to no avail, and sometimes would yell back if I was provoked enough.  But one day... we were done.

He ended our partnership with no real explanation, without even giving me a chance.  Did I react the right way by not speaking up all those years?  Was my fighting back what prompted him to give up on me, on us?  I think the latter is what burned into my subconscious, for I never allowed myself to get close enough in my romantic relationships to have to fight back.  At the first sign of an argument, I just let it go.

How much easier it was to just give up!

On top of all this, I had learned about open relationships and casual relationships.  Again, how much easier those were!  I think I got so used to taking the easy, superficial route that I never allowed my heart or my soul the chance to be so connected to someone that I could get that hurt again.  The way I was hurt with my first partnership.  In my romantic relationships (I can hardly call most of them romantic), I'm ashamed to say that I acted very carelessly.  I was trying to find happiness in the physical, and attempted to with the emotional, but never fully gave my heart away.  And never let go of old "flames," to use old-fashioned speak.  I wasn't intentionally stringing people along, but I was doing just that.  And they were doing it to me in return.

And so I got sucked into a downward spiral of flirting and trying to feel connected but really never letting myself feel connected.  I'd hope that this guy or that guy would suddenly treat me right and realize that they really liked me after all.  "What if..." was one of the most common phrases in my conversations about guys with friends (okay, maybe not literally, but it does seem like it was a common trend).  I knew I was raised better than this.  I knew I was not made to be this person who would so quickly jump from "relationship" to "relationship" and be fine with just physical actions without a real connection.  I pray and hope my daughters can learn from my experience and never travel down the same road.

But - though I'm not proud of it - I did.  And, honestly, I didn't realize it until I found true happiness not too long ago.  As my friend told me earlier, "You may have reacted that way in those situations, but you were never really happy." 

She's right.  I was never really happy, trying to chase happiness in such a superficial way.  Was it that my mind had started thinking casual relationships were okay?  I knew deep down I didn't want that type of life, that I wanted to be a committed person.  Or was it that first partnership that established such an immense fear of such an intense commitment?  That was afraid to fight - not only to fight against, but also to fight for - something I truly cared about.  

Someone I truly cared about.  

Or was it that I didn't care enough about any of the "someones" to feel that I should fight?  Huh... that is a topic for a blog post in and of itself.  I think a lot of this is... I'll probably repeat myself in future blog posts, but I think that's how healing comes.  I need to analyze myself, feel the pain of my past actions, follow the life I want to live and the person I want to be, and then reanalyze myself and feel the pain again, trying to get to all aspects figured out in an attempt to heal and move forward.  Which is a lifelong process, to be sure, but I hope that I can get a good jump on it in the next few weeks.  I think I will post this after all.  I want something to look back at, not only in a few days but also in a few years, to remind me of how I thought and what I did.  

To see how I reacted, not only in those past situations, but also now.  How I'm choosing to react to this self-exploration.  How maybe our reactions do tell a lot about who we are... and how maybe these reactions can redefine me and teach me my true self, the self I want to be with all my heart, the self I know I really am deep down.  

That is how I hope to react to exploring the reactions of my past.

With Love and Hope,

Simply Me

The Search

Being halfway across the world with a lot of time on your hands and nothing to do isn't everyone's idea of a good time.  In fact, it normally wouldn't be my idea of a good time either, except it's exactly what I set out to do when I booked myself a flight to India this past summer.

I needed to get away.

I was searching for something I didn't have... and I didn't know what it was.

So now I'm here, and the search has begun.  Except... it actually began before I left.  With the help of certain people who are involved in my life in a big way (you know who you are), I've begun breaking myself down and re-evaluating who I am.  This self-search is something I've needed to do for a while.  I knew something wasn't right; I knew I wasn't living the life I wanted to live.  I knew I wasn't truly happy.  That's why I'm here now, in a small bedroom in India, surrounded by books, a notebook, a pen, and my laptop.


My search started with reading a book called "Sex God" written by Rob Bell.  I was trying to figure out why I was never truly satisfied with my previous relationships, why I'd get myself into a few where I let myself be taken advantage of, why I'd hold on to all of them - literally all of them - and yet still bounce around onto something new.  This book got me thinking about it all in a way I hadn't before.  It talks about how, as humans, we search for connectedness.

So, in the midst of the search of myself, I found myself thinking about the search for connectedness.  A search within a search.

Anyway, I realized as I was reading that this search for connection - a true, deep, meaningful connection in a relationship - is what had me bouncing around from relationship to relationship.  More than that, the feeling that something was missing, that I wasn't good enough or something was off or I wasn't truly happy, kept me searching more and more.

Yet it also kept me attached.

That damn "What if..." question would bounce around in my head.  What if things with this guy will change in the future?  What if that guy one day will start realizing he really likes me and starts treating me differently?  So I'd hold on... not just because I'm terrible at throwing away/letting go of anything (just take a look at my closet or my e-mail inbox), but also because I think a part of me was hoping something would change and that connection I was searching for would suddenly appear in one of my past relationships.

Which, frankly, is just silly.  But I didn't realize that until I read this passage:

"The 'if' means we have become attached to the idea that we are missing something and that we can be satisfied by whatever it is we have in our sights. There's a hole, a space, a gap, and we're on the search.  And we may not even realize it. When we are in the right place, the right space - content and at peace - we aren't on the search and our radar gets turned off."

Rob Bell was talking about a slightly different "if," but in my state of mind - thinking about my past - this passage clicked.  And, honestly, I don't think it would have if I wasn't in the "right place" and "right space" right now.  If I didn't have someone who I feel so deeply connected with... I think I would have missed this passage.  And I think my radar would still be turned on, and I'd still be searching, wondering "What if..."

I'm so exceedingly grateful to now know what it means to have that complete connectedness in a relationship.  To know what it feels like.  It is such a blissful, satisfied, all-encompassing feeling, it's no wonder I never felt it before.

My search of myself continues, but at least I know that my search for connectedness is in the past.




P.S.  Please bear with me over the next many-ish posts.  I have a feeling a lot will be centered around what I discover about myself, and that may include things that aren't pretty, things that are confusing, things that may not even be right.  But it's what I need to do for myself at this moment, so - for whoever reads this blog (which isn't many people at all... maybe like 10 viewers total?!) - you're just going to have to deal with it.

Fragile

Every once in a while I get caught up in a song.  Occasionally it's one of the new ones over-played repeatedly on the radio but usually it's one that I think is gorgeous, or the lyrics are extremely poignant, or the message relates perfectly to what I'm living in that moment.  

The current song, is "Glass."

I know not everyone is a country music fan.  I never used to be able to stand it, but even for the less-country-music-tolerant, this song is worth a listen (and more than bearable, in my humble opinion).  It's ballad-type style departs from most country music about beer and girls, and Thompson Square - the married couple who sings it together - I feel bring a rawness that isn't often found in the genre.  The lyrics go as follows:

"Trying to live and love

With a heart that can't be broken

Is like trying to see the light

With eyes that can't be opened.

Yeah, we both carry baggage

We've picked up on our way,

So if you love me do it gently

And I will do the same.

We may shine,

We may shatter,

We may be picking up the pieces here on after.

We are fragile,

We are human,

We are shaped by the light we let through us.

We break fast, 'cause we are glass."

And the song goes on, the rest of it just as beautiful.  But what I like most is how aptly the lyrics describe we humans.

Lord knows I'm not perfect, nor will I ever be.  I'm only human... that's all any of us are.  And as humans, we're fragile in so many ways... emotionally, physically, spiritually.  I feel like it's natural to want to expect perfection from ourselves - to be strong and unbreakable no matter what faces us - but that's simply not the case.  We're always going to be fragile, always going to have cracks and chips that will take time to heal.  Some may never.  

I don't fully know how to heal my cracks yet, but I feel that with the love and support of those around me I will be able to.  A lot will come from within me.  Most will come from Above.  

I will never be perfect, but I will try to be the best human I can on this earth.  I hope to follow this advice:

"Live simply, love generously, care deeply, speak kindly,

Leave the rest to God."