My Heart, The Dumbass

Nora Ephron once said that the worst cynics are actually the worst romantics.  In order to become so scarred or disappointed or burned, you had to have believed wholeheartedly in something to begin with, maybe more so than others.  I am one of those people. Hopeless. 

I am a cynic because my brain knows better.

I am a romantic because my heart is a wild little thing.

And my heart wins every time because she is a dumbass.

Last night one of my guy friends told me that he really likes someone.  He hasn’t liked a girl in about 4 years.  No one has inspired these feelings and every day has been like Groundhog Day (I reminded him that Groundhog Day is way worse than heartache) but he’s still very scared he will get hurt.  He asked me if the possibility of getting hurt is worth it.  My brain hated my answer when my heart answered "Hell Yeah."  And she went on.  "Every moment you spend skin to skin with someone you’re crazy about is worth every tear.  Because being in love freakin’ rocks.  Am I wrong?"  

Who doesn’t love a little love coke?

One butterfly in your stomach is worth the risk of tears.  Someone holding your heart in their hands for a period of time is so much more interesting than guarding it yourself in a cage for all of eternity.  Being on a windy beach at night, curled into someone who smells perfect to you, getting your hair caught in your lip gloss and not caring….I mean, is there a question of whether you go with it or not? No, of course not.  Shut up, brain.  

My poker face isn't nearly as cute as the one who is lost and in love and my heart is so much more charming than my brain.  Isn’t yours?

35

I turned 35 on the 5th and I was going to write about it, but I honestly didn't want it to be a thing. But it's a thing. I don't want it to be a thing, but waking up in the middle of the night thinking about your life and what you're doing and where you're going simply because you're a certain number, that's what I call a thing.

In some ways I would say I'm more childish now that I don't have to constantly pretend to be an adult like when I was younger. But then again, I'm so much wiser now than I ever was and that part really can't be faked because I had to live through a lot to get here.  That part makes me feel 35. 

I look at my kids, the ones in high school, the ones who are causing me all of these issues in the middle of the night, and I just don't understand how I'm here with them. I feel like I was such a child when I had them but at some point while I was pretending to be an adult, I actually became one. Now all of a sudden, I do know better than they know and they roll their eyes at me and curse my existence as an "old person." And my babies, Carson and Dylan, how can they be old enough that I can say "I don't have babies anymore?" How can that part of my life be over? And how can I be old enough to not be able to donate my eggs to someone else in need? That's f***ed up. 

I'm fine alone. I like being alone. Maybe it's because I have so many kids. But how could I have experienced so much chaos in my life already that I'm rejecting the idea of a man coming into it? How can I be old enough to be scarred in so many ways romantically, to the point that I know I'm better off by myself? And then know that the statement I just made is BS but kind of not? How can I be old enough to be that cynical and so stingy with my time? Did I really experience enough heartbreak and become annoyed enough over the years that I can never experience loneliness because being alone is the better option of the two? Apparently, because I don't. How can I be old enough to sit in a quiet space, alone, and not feel alone? I must have traveled quite a road....and I am old enough to have done it now. That's f***ed up. 

I was telling my younger cousin a couple of weeks ago that I feel like this is the first time in my life where I'm just maintaining and improving where I am and it's weird. I told her I was kind of feeling weird about turning 35 and how I knew at 45, I would say "why was I upset about being 35?" But that it doesn't matter because I am 35....she asked me why I would be upset about it since I have accomplished so much.  Well, I did ask myself that question. Do you always think about all of the other things you were going to do and didn't, regardless of what you've accomplished? I can say, I've never been at a place in my life where I feel like my milestones no longer have to do with me, but they're about my kids because I've never been this age and had children so old, which sounds so simplistic but doesn't feel it. And that's great. I will enjoy watching my kids experience life, but how am I not working toward those things myself now? How did this happen? You know, like I'm not earning a degree because I got mine. Or having babies, because I had 4. Or getting married, because that's another story. It's just an odd feeling knowing that the next time I visit a college campus, it'll be for my kids.....in 4 years. That's f***ed up. 

I still have a lot of child in me. The silly spirit that I'm not trying to hide by parading around as an adult is even more apparent to me now....so again, why am I waking up thinking about this number? That's f***ed up. 

10 Things To Know Before You Date a Writer

Someone once said that if a writer doesn’t write about you, they aren’t in love with you.  It’s true.  Additionally, if a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.  Also true. 

I don’t publish my poetry (usually) and I don’t publish my fiction and the reason why I don’t is very simple.  It’s because I can’t sit down and finish any of it because I jump all over the place between projects.  SQUIRREL!  The only things that I have published officially have been my blogs and news stories for newspapers when I was younger.  Because I don’t slap FICTION on what I do publish, the result is that most of it is extremely personal and is no doubt like a window into my soul.  Even if what I write about myself isn’t a true reflection of who I am because I am too hard on myself, too easy on myself, because it’s simply how I am feeling in the moment or because I am working through a phase, even if what I write isn’t how others see me, it’s always a true reflection of how I am feeling, regardless.  I have always wondered how the person on the other end of my feelings feels when I write and I am sure that it depends on what I am saying.  To be the one who inspired me to feel deeply enough to write and then share can’t be an easy place to be.

But it’s forever a special place to be, nevertheless. 

When I was in high school, a boy wrote a song about my green eyes and I freaked out.  I wanted to crawl into a hole, not because I wasn’t flattered and not because it wasn’t good, but it was because I knew what he was feeling and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to inspire him in that way.  On another occasion, I read a poem that described me and rather than it feeding my ego, I was unnerved.  I am used to being the observer. I am comfortable seeing art, not being the subject. 

I have never dated a writer, probably because I know what we are like and although we might not all be this way, the creative writers I have known and the ones who taught me in school, well, read on.....here is my list of reasons that you shouldn’t should date one at least once..... 

1.    They will write about you. It's nothing personal.  It's just not avoidable.  Don't date one if you can't handle it. And if you get off on it, then you're a keeper.  We feed off the people around us, especially our romantic relationships.  Sometimes a character is based on a stranger on a bus, but our deeper connections will always be reflected in our work whether it’s fiction or nonfiction.  If you don’t inspire us, there is something truly wrong and the connection isn’t there. 

2.    We want you to read what we write.  You don’t have to like it, but good or bad, we want you to read our stuff because it’s who we are.  If you don’t read what we write, we internalize that and can't understand it. 

3.    We will observe you in beautiful ways that no one else can.  When you wake up in the morning with your hair sticking up, we see you as a perfect work of art.  And we can articulate it.  

4.    You will be analyzed.  If you aren’t ready to see yourself or self-reflect, then don’t date a writer because you’ll pretty much be forced to look at what we see, simply because we write what we see.  All we do is reflect, dissect, pour onto paper and repeat.

5.    We are passionate.  Creative people just are.  They will play with you, exhaust you, energize you, dance with you, lay with you, and then write about it….

6.    We forget nothing. We have the ability to remember exactly the way your lips curled when you smiled that one time you said that, the way you taste and smell, what your arms felt like when we were crying, and every word you’ve ever said to us.  Like ever.  We thrive on the butterflies and even the pain, so whatever you’ve caused will eventually turn into a flow of words. They may be published or hidden in a drawer, but they are out there somewhere.

7.    We forget everything. We let our insurance lapse because we got a new debit card, we run out of gas, we lose track of time, we drive off with the gas pump still attached to the car.  You will definitely need to remind us to get an oil change and we will have alarms on our phone most likely for everything.

8.    We are a little crazy, but in a really cool way. We cycle and spike and go through creative lulls and highs and that’s just the way we are.  Balancing it is hard for us and we sometimes feel manic. 

9.    We get wound up in our own thoughts and need space.  Even as outgoing as I am, I have to have space and quiet time to soak in and sort through all of the stimuli around me or I will go insane.  Because we pull from the environment and think so much all the time, it can feel very overwhelming if you can’t dump it somewhere…that’s what the paper is for.

10.  We don’t like being bored. Maybe I am speaking for creative people in general, but Groundhog Day is like the worst thing ever.  A boring kiss is the kiss of death.  And sitting around being dull will get you a swift kick out the door.  So if you’re boring, you’re probably not going to make it with a writer. Self-stimulation is a very real thing and we will do it even if you aren't involved just because we are trying to survive.

The Click

There is a phenomenon I experience that I like to call "The Click."  It's basically occurs when all analyzing, emotions, events, and current circumstances have come together like a puzzle and feels like a lightening bolt when the last piece of the puzzle is finally connected to the rest in place. You wake up.  Something resonates.  You are done.  The Click feels sudden, heartless, and cold, but in reality, it isn't.  The Click is the exit strategy and result of someone who is entirely too patient in relationships or too stubborn to see what they should.  I am both patient and stubborn.  Bad mix.  

I have a love/hate relationship with The Click.  

I first experienced The Click in high school.  I put up with a bunch of crap from a boyfriend and then one day on the phone I said "No, I'm done."  Whatever he had done hadn't been different than anything prior, but for some reason, that one thing was enough for me to never feel an emotion again.  He cried on the phone and I hung up because I didn't care.  I never talked to him again.  My second boyfriend lost me at a train station.  He drove me to the station, cussing at me the entire time, and I sat there being quiet.  He had cussed many times before, but that was the last time I listened to it and I can't tell anyone what it was about that moment that was any different, except CLICK.  As soon as the car stopped, I unclicked my seatbelt as quickly as I unclicked my heart.  I walked over to the pay phone, calmly told my mom I was coming home to her after school, and I never came back to see him.  I went to school that day, I didn't cry, I felt absolutely nothing at all.  I went about my business, and that was that.  When I did go back for my stuff, he was on his knees crying, and I couldn't muster anything.  I looked cold, vacant, and I couldn't have cared about him if I had wanted to.  The pattern has continued....

The most frustrating thing about The Click is that I have experienced it enough to warn the people I love  that I am like this, and still no one has taken it seriously.  When you are a person who is just "done one day," it is very frustrating to see someone beg you once you're done and gone because then it's too late.  Nothing is worse than indifference because that means the love is dead.  Anais Nin says "Love never dies a natural death.  It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source."  And when my hope in someone is gone, I move on. 

The Click has become such a pattern for me that it has served as both a peaceful reminder when I am in tears and in love and miserable because I know one day it will save me, but it has also scared me because it seems to me to be inevitable and always feels so sudden.  It serves as peace for my family and friends  who are begging me to fall out of love because anyone who knows me knows that I seem to have to overplay something like a song that just has to become old and boring for me to finally turn it off. 

Why must I be like Scarlett O'Hara who finally gets it at the end?  I don't want to be someone who gets it too late, when I have given too much, lost too much, wasted too much time, shed too many tears, gambled too high and risked too much....

Am I a slow learner emotionally?  Unbelievably stubborn?  Too true to my heart and emotions?  Am I overly patient?  Do I actually think I can fix people?  Why does my puzzle have to have so many pieces?  And why can't I leave a puzzle until it's completed? 

I don't want to be always waiting for that last puzzle piece before I start seeing the big picture.  

CLICK. 

Do You Believe in Butterflies?

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud
was more painful than the risk it took to blossom-Anais Nin

This past Saturday I was drinking coffee with my girlfriends and somehow the conversation led me to point out that I hadn’t seen a butterfly in ages and how sad that is to me. Butterflies are a metaphor for change and since I tend to think, learn, love and live through metaphors, the inevitable thought followed….what does that say about our society when butterflies are scarce? 

I am so sad when I lose hope in people and the things around me.  I am forced to concede and I really hate that. 

I have always truly believed that people and society can and will change or I wouldn’t have made a lot of the decisions I have made in my life and loved relentlessly the people I have loved and been passionate about things I have been passionate about.  What would be the point of trying so hard if I didn’t believe that change was possible?  And I also still believe that people are capable of change…the problem is that it’s usually when it’s too late.  I have been repeatedly brokenhearted because I have had no choice but to walk away, fall out of love, throw my hands up and shut up.  Then what seems to happen?  People change and care when I don’t anymore.  There is nothing sadder than seeing someone care when it's too late, love too late, change when you’re gone….and on the flipside, looking in someone else’s eyes and seeing that they have given up on you is gut-wrenching too.  Seeing someone who once believed in you become despairing...that’s what provokes the too-late change. 

Why so often do people have to lose someone to realize how much they loved them?  Why do we have to hit rock bottom to realize who would have caught us? Why do we gamble things instead of sacrificing our own fears, selfishness, and stubbornness?  Why in a society that is supposedly so connected does everyone feel so disconnected?  What I have realized about changing is that in order to be connected to your own soul, you have to be connected to others and your surroundings and respect it.  As long as someone is disconnected from others and themselves, they can’t and won’t change.  People are disconnected for different reasons, whether it’s because of selfishness, hopelessness, lack of direction, or simply being afraid of where it will lead them.  And no matter how much you try to connect with someone who is disconnected, you will always be disappointed. 

Any time I have greatly needed to change something about myself and resisted it, I know that the main reason has always been fear.  I am like anyone else who is afraid…I have slowly built walls, written lists, designed coping mechanisms, run from things that make me squirm, run toward the familiar and wrong, and denied denied denied and the only way I have challenged anything scary head on is when I have recognized where I am sensitive and sat with the uncomfortable.

People have to want to change and they usually only do it when the risk to NOT change is scarier than the change.  The cocoon becomes smothering, oppressive, and poisonous rather than safe, comforting, and nurturing.  

As for me, I think the universe wants me to stay a hopeful believer.   Saturday afternoon, the same day as the comment about not seeing butterflies anymore, my friends and I were leaving a movie and a butterfly flew right over my head, flapped its little wings and flew off right in front of me.  My face immediately lit up like a little girl and smiled when I pointed. 

Butterflies are still there.  You just have to believe in the ones who are brave enough to emerge from their cocoons.