Wash in Cold Water Please -- Discourse on Self - January 27, 2007

A lot of thought has been spent contemplating my essence. Who am I? More than one friend has asked me to define myself. In truth, I am not sure who I am. Can someone really be defined in a few words-- in a page? There are years of existence molding a character. How can you fairly define a person.

When I used to consider this problem, I invariably brought up the past. I think of my childhood, my siblings, my parents, and my ex-husband. They have molded the path of my life. But they cannot BE me. I do not want to dwell on my past any more. I do not want to be a slave to my memories.

There is a crutch to be found in memories. Memories can be vivid, painful, but they also can be beautiful too. I used to think that if my mother had just shown me more attention or shown me more kindness as a child, I could be so much more stronger and successful. The same thing is happening now with my ex-husband. I keep blaming him for not finishing school and for being afraid to love again. But he is not in my life any more. I can go back to school if I tried hard enough; I could find a way. There are so many resources out there that I have to find. No longer will I use him as an excuse for failing to act.

I MAKE THE DECLARATION, THIS NIGHT, JANUARY 27, 2007, THAT I WILL NO LONGER BE A VICTIM.

Thus far my entries in this blog have been a recounting of my past as though they are what I am. A lot of people have suffered in their life and they are strong and don't complain. I am sick of complaining. I no longer want pity. I want to be seen as strong. I do not want to be a cynic more than I have to.

I, Vanessa, am an artist, writer, poet, nerd, computer geek, singer, loving mother, mentor, helper, tutor, cook, programmer, giggler, smiler, lover, and fighter who's also passionate, compassionate, and empathetic.

I am going to put my new-found freedom to work for me. I will be strong and I will not throw pity parties for myself.

*breathes deeply*

a hobby that I can enjoy no matter where I go. - January 23, 2007

People who know me have heard me sing at one point or another. If they are really close to me (or just plain unlucky), they have heard me more times than they can count. That does not mean I have a bad voice. It is a really good voice (and no, it's not just because my mother told me so), it's just that I am always singing.

I sing for the pleasure it brings me. Of course, I want people to think I am good, but I have no aspirations for more. I will not be gallivanting around the country trying to become a star. It's not me and it's not what I want.

With that being said, I do so love to sing. I sing in my regular chat room, I sing in a music room, and I sing in the Yahoo Karaoke Club chat rooms. I sing at the top of my lungs in the car, I sing in the shower, I sing while cooking, I sing while thinking, I sing and sing and sing. It is a hobby that I can enjoy no matter where I go.

When my life has settled down a bit, I think I would enjoy singing in a community choir or perhaps at a night club. Not in this town, but places where they have blues and jazz clubs. That would be nice.

Visit with the Family/New Living Arrangements - January 14, 2007

Things are changing and evolving so rapidly. When was the fast-forward button hit on my life? I thought my growth would take on a slower pace. That I would stumble many times before I felt the kind of happiness I am experiencing right now.

Last week, I made the decision to invite my ex's sister to live with me. She is a young woman who was in a bad relationship and needed someone. In struck a chord with me. I have known her since she was 8 years old. I realized that I don't need my ex to approve her living with me. I could care less if he likes or dislikes his sister. I know she is going to work well in my household. She spent more than an hour with my guinea pigs, so I have given her my seal of approval.

When I went to pick her up, I spent time with the ex in-laws. They were kind and it was a nice get together. Then I drove down south for my cousin's birthday party. This too was a big thing for me. The Ex never wanted me to go to family gatherings. He would make me feel guilty or wrong for even wanting to go. I had so much fun! My family is this group of fun-loving, loving, caring, adventurous, humorous, gorgeous people. I enjoyed myself too much. That means I drank and got tipsy. But I was with family and I was not driving anywhere. After dancing till my legs could not support me, I sat talking with my cousin's friend. We were both tipsy and discussing Einstein and Isaac Newton. He went into a ramble about e=mc^2, and I was trying to discuss how Isaac Newton did not have the math available at the time to predict orbits because of how different celestial bodies pull on each other ....blah blah blah....

The next day I went to my aunt's furniture store. We even discussed the creation of a website for her business. I was happy that she was considering letting me do it. I have to start working on that and working on my sister's code too. (i didn't forget Ruby...mwah)

[Lessons learned: 1- My pacing technique really worked. Only one alcoholic drink every hour. 2 - I tend to get philosophical when drinking. 3- make sure victims of ramblings are just as interested in weird things
4 - Very nerdy but in a harmless way. *smile* ]

I took many pictures that I will have to post.

I feel happy and I love my family.

Thoughts and Memories of the Ex- January 4, 2007

There were times when things were going well with the Ex. Times when everything was great, and we were working together towards the goal of having better lives for us and our children. I have beautiful memories of my time with him. I remember how it felt to lie together in our first apartment. We would lay nude on our futon under the window. There was a huge oak tree outside and the wind would blow in, making the curtains billow. Young, sexual, and in love. He was the first person to tell me that I was beautiful. He would stare at me and touch my face. It felt like love then. I remember him crying at the birth of my first son. Crying to me that it was a boy. So many memories -- 11 years worth.

My Ex was one of the few people who understood the things that make me truly laugh. We had sexual chemistry and desired each other. Since he saw me grow from child, to woman, to mother, I could be nude with him and not cover my imperfections. I could be ridiculous and nerdy. I could sing at the top of my lungs, and he would smile or roll his eyes. I could discuss my views on politics, and he would debate with me and see my side-- even when we could not discuss our relationship. Small things made us happy. We loved watching the same TV shows (most of the time) and the same foods.

More than that, he saved me from a sad childhood. He knew every detail of me, and I knew every detail of him. I knew the sadnesses of his childhood, his fears, his quirks. I devoted my life to him to the detriment of my own life.

Yet, he always thought I did not do enough for him. To him, I never dressed up or wear sexy things for him. He thought I didn't think of him first. But how could that have been true when the most important pieces of me were cast aside to make him happy. I didn't visit my family; I stopped writing and communicating with friends because it made him insecure.

Things were never perfect, even at our happiest. There are far more bad times than there are good. He recently asked me if I was ever happy with him, and I said, "Yes, I was happy. But you killed it." That is the truth. The love I describe in the beginning is just a story to tell now. I feel so much anger when I am near him. I feel raw. His presence rips open the tenous threads of my normalcy, and I feel like I can scream. He sees it too. He has asked me if I am okay, and I have no other response but to say that I do not like having him around me. When he still lived with me, he once asked if we would ever make love/sex again. If I would "call him up" when he moved out. How can I do that? How could I consider opening up my body (and by connection, my heart) to him when he had ripped me to shreads?

Remembering the good times is bittersweet and often makes me feel hollow inside. The self-recriminations begin. I ask myself what could I have done differently? How do you make a cheater change? How do you make him love you? I think to myself, Why was I not enough? The fact is that there are men married to women who are awful, unkind, cruel, petty, unkempt, unhappy, but they still do not cheat on them.

He either loved me but was not strong enough to resist the allure of other women, or he never loved me. Both are painful to accept. What I have to accept is that Ex's cheating was not my fault, and that I could not have been more than what I was.

It was not my fault.
It was not my fault.
It was not my fault.

The guilt and self-doubt rise like the tide; swelling to huge peaks and then ebbing. I just wish the memories would not break the surface.

After all, we are no longer together and I am trying to be happy. But the memories of him and what we went through are coloring my current perceptions. The second someone reminds me of him, I no longer can speak with them the same way.

That's enough of this long-winded post.