Unspoken Love

Mind, body and soul. Intimacy, passion and commitment. Someone once told me that the right person for you had to have

Shared mentality, shared ideals and physical chemistry.

 I have yet to find that trifecta. At least in the case where it's mutual.

The triangular theory of love. 

 I have been with people that that I am absolutely attracted to but we don't share the same ideals but we share the same hobbies. 

Selfishness, inconsideration. Lack of commitment.

Is avoiding commitment selfish? Is it unfair to spend time with someone that you can't see yourself romantically with.

Am I not affectionate enough?

Is he capable of love?

Is this just friendship.

If it is, I would like to believe I would be okay with that. But when you want to spend more time with that person, when it hurts to part ways; is it safe to say that you want more than friendship?

Does that make me needy? Or is nothing ever enough.

What if I get more interaction time.

Maybe he's just scared you don't feel the same way.

So you start being more open, more supportive, less aggressive. Then you voice that fact that you are actually doing it. 

But you don't get a response.

You stare fondly at him but he barely even looks at you in the eye when he speaks to you.

Maybe he really is just not that into you.

Maybe you both feel the same.

Maybe neither of you are ready.

This could be considered romantic love.

Written April 2016

Reflection, meditation, Catharsism

After a rough emotional start to my Sunday I decided that I was in need of a loooooong relaxing bath. I knew I needed to relax to ease my mind of the million negative thoughts that raced through that brain of mine. It was the best Idea I have had.

As I listened to Elizabeth Gilbert in the Indian portion of her book, aka the "Pray" part, I found I wasn't doing much relaxing. Which is ironic because she was having a tough time quieting her mind as well. There were things she would say that reminded me of where I was in my life. Situations I am dealing with. Most importantly there were things I was over analyzing.

Eventually my mind found some peace. If only for a a split second. What happened next was beautiful but most people would find weird. Laying there in my purest form made me think about rawness which made me think about realness and honesty.

Looking at my wrinkly fingers made me think what a stunning image that would be. So I grabbed my phone an took this photo.

After that photo I noticed my dingy tub fixtures.

I imagined those are the original handles and spout from when my apartment was first built in the 80's. What intrigued me was that I found beauty in that dilapidated faucet. That's who I've always been. The person that sees beauty in the mundane and peculiar, The person that can tell you that the mere fact that this object being old and neglected made me ponder about bigger and deeper things that are sometimes ignored, neglected and discarded.

After snapping a few photos of in animate objects I decided to take a self portrait that turned into thetitle photo for this blog. It is not mean to be vain, nor erotic. I simply thought it was a beautiful self portrait in my purest form. I want to shatter the wall of vulnerability. What better way than exposing myself to the world this way. I share it artistically and dramatically. I hope everyone else can see that its a simple self portrait of a human in her most raw intimate way. Rene Brown, Elizabeth Gilbert and Amy Poehler all contributed to this new found courage. They inspire me to expose myself in all aspects of life.

Cleansing the body, the mind and the soul.

This last set of self new age portraits were simply for fun. But after looking at it I realized how different these filters make people look. I hope all women in the world realize that they are always most beautiful in their simple natural form, despite what social media has them believe. One is my natural self portrait...It's pretty easy to point out.

Parenting: The battle between Bruce Banner and The Hulk

Just like Bruce Banner, my emotional reactions are almost impossible contain. When I experience any form of discomfort, anxiety or rage…I turn as green as Nickelodeon’s extinct slime!

My most recent episode came yesterday when I decided to check on my 11 year old’s grades and found out he had a D in mathematics. Now before you judge me, let me give you a little background information on our current school year situation.

I have raised my children to care about their grades. I have explained to them that grades are not a true measure of their intelligence. However, when it comes to our education system, they are extremely important because it is the way society measures intelligence, work ethic and effort.

I do not demand straight A’s. “Tiger mom” is not a title I hold. I am more of a Liger mom; the balance between hippie mindset and structured discipline. A’s and B’s are acceptable. I do not accept Mediocrity, which is what I refer to as C’s. This entire school year however has been a battle with getting C’s due to assignments not turned in or careless mistakes and not rechecking their work. This year I chose to give my 11 year old responsibility for his own grades.  I let go of checking everything piece of homework and every single assignment and product.

I checked grades 3 times a marking period and had a review on why they were slipping. When he told me it was because he didn’t understand the material I made sure I was available to go over anything he didn’t understand. In December, Santa bought Jayden a new special edition Xbox One. Santa wrote a note that unless grades improved, said Xbox could not be opened…. 5 months later… the Xbox is STILL in the unopened box.

Fast forward to yesterday. I go to check grades and find that he has a D in mathematics. The D was due to a 5 page assignment that was graded individually and he got a range of C’s-F’s on each one!

Enter the hulk. I yelled to the top of my lungs

 “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS JAYDEN!!!!” 

I lost any ounce of patience that I had left. I saw red and turned green. The exact things I said are a bit of a blur to me. I may have even used profanity. It was not my proudest moment but I lost all self-control. Emotions tend to do that to me. All forms of entertainment have been banned from now until the end of the school year. No TV, no playing with toys, no Electronics unless they are for educational purposes, no going over friends’ houses, NO FUN OF ANY KIND IS ALLOWED…Monday through Friday. He is to come home from school, redo failed assignments and complete I-ready.

This evening when I came home I was still fuming. But after guitar practice and homework review with Tristan I decided to watch some Ted Talks. I encountered a Colin Powell Ted Talk about children needing structure. My first instinct when my child fails is that somehow I am failing. I wanted to know if structure is somehow missing in Jayden’s life. I will always blame myself for my children failing. I once judged a close relative for stating “My children failing in life is not my fault, I did my part as a parent providing them with every opportunity.” Jayden was only in Kindergarten at that point so that statement seemed absurd to me. My first thought was, “no, you failed to provide structure for your children.”

My takeaway from the Colin Powell speech was that even when kids have structure they can still have mediocre grades in school. Apparently Colin Powell was a straight "C" student his entire life but somehow was extraordinary at following orders and eventually he became extraordinary at giving orders and managed to reach the highest rank in the military.

I decided to have Jayden watch the Ted talk with me. I had to summarize the speech for him to explain my analysis of it. I reiterated that it’s not the fact that he has a “D” that bothers me. Rather the fact that I know he is better than that. I told him it is ok to fail, but it is not ok to accept failure as an ultimate outcome. His teacher always tells her students: FAIL stand for First Attempt in Learning. It’s a wonderful message, but my first reaction to failing has always been to get overemotional and over react and release THE HULK. I usually need a day to return to my Bruce Banner alter ego. I return the same way as the comic book character always does, tattered, disoriented and filled with shame and guilt. But once I dust myself off, it is back to work to find the solution to my parenting hurdles: Which are just as complicated and difficult as physics and calculus.

What is love? A question that took 2 years to answer.

Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me...no more. If you didn't start singing that then you and I can't be friends.

In one of our deep conversations my friend V asked me "what is your idea of being loved?"
"How did your husband make you feel loved?"
Once again the answer didn't come easily to me.
"If you don't know where you're going then how are you going to get there." That statement repeats over and over in my head.

Quite honestly, I don't even know what love is anymore. It took me 2 months to come up with an idea of what being loved means to me. I just wanted someone who I looked forward to seeing after a long day at work. Someone who would be just as excited to see me when I walked in the door.
V graciously responded with.. "So you want a dog." It was funny but no, I don't want a dog.

It has now been 4 months since her question. I was afraid to answer her question then because I felt that my idea of love was too extravagant. I feel loved

1) When someone shares the same ideologies with me.
2) When someone "gets me".
3) When people find my quirks endearing.
4) When someone feels connected to me.
5) When someone values my opinion.
6) When a genuine interest is displayed
7) When someone cares enough to force me off a slump.

I started this post back in July of 2014... Almost two years ago. That means that for the past two years I have not given love any thought. I literally put love on hold. At least that's the case for romantic love. The past 2 years have been all about self love and family love. But I am ready. I am ready for romantic love again.

I actually have been thinking about it for quite some time. It wasn't until I saved a Ted-Ed video that I realized how much thought I had really given it:

My two favorite theories:

1) Bertrand Russel 1872-1970

"Love is escape from our loneliness.

Our fear of the cold cruel world temps us to build hard shell to protect and isolate ourselves. Love's delight, intimacy, and warmth helps us overcome our fear of the world, escape our lonely shell and engage more abundantly in life. Love enriches our whole being...."

I truly believe that the right love does help us engage more abundantly in life. Love does help conquer our fear of the world. I know for a fact that I am more courageous when I have someone else besides me.  

2) Simone De Beauvoir 1908-1986

"Love lets us reach beyond ourselves.
Love is the desire to integrate with another. Love infuses our life with meaning."

Loving authentically... what a concept! That's exactly that kind of love I want. That's the only love I would accept. My goal is to find that person that I can enrich my life and the world with.

(Mistake)^2

Joke of the year: Our trip to NYC was very eventful. I did not only miss one flight... No. I have to challenge myself and miss two flights. How do I feel? A little embarrassed? Obviously. But I don't feel a dark cloud of shame and regret that normally consumes me when things don't go my way. The highlight of me missing my flights? I got to see my two brothers come to my rescue. One will never speak of the event again unless I bring it up the other won't let me forget it.

I wanted to write about it to get over the embarrassment of the whole thing. In reality people miss their flights  everyday. We are only human. Was I a little negligent ... Maybe. I relied on my kids not dropping my wallet of the floor when they were searching for their headphones the first flight I missed and I relied on my memory for the second flight. Ce la vie. I have given people something to talk about. Because one thing I've learned is that people like tend to focus on others' flaws and mistakes to forget theirs. So I'll let those people make their comments and throw their jabs because deep down those people don't know how to be happy if they are not criticizing others. 

Another reason why I am writing this is to remind myself that just like I make mistakes my children will make mistakes. Instead of loosing my cool I will learn to be more understanding about their mistakes. Even as adults we can make the same mistake twice.  

To Medicate or Not to medicate...

...that is the question!

I am an adventurous soul at heart. Trying new things excite me. The outside sources and the journey to these new experiences scare me half to death. I try to make my weekends with my boys fun and exciting. I want them to experience the world. My anxiety and depression sometimes hold me back.

I have been giving medication and therapy a lot of thought. Some may say that I have not given it enough thought or given it too much thought because I have not really done anything about it. But I have given it enough though that I signed up for health insurance. I had been without health insurance for about a year and a half now. Lets pick up where I last left off in regards to my mental health.

Quick recap, when I was 23 I tried to tell the doctor I was depressed and he told me I was just suffering from displacement or something like that. For a couple of years I was genuinely happy. I had a career I loved and didn't mind working 50 hour weeks. I was so satisfied with life that I decided to have my second child because I felt that I had my depression under control. I worked my way up through a company and was making sufficient money to raise 2 children. I saved up all my vacation days to cover the cost of my benefits while I was on maternity leave. My very first week on maternity leave the company goes under and I am left without a job to return to. It gave me a reason to forcibly become a stay at home but not having a partner that was capable of stepping up to the plate and providing for his family made me bitter. I am grateful that his parents were kind enough to support us but they had already done it for 2 years with our first born. I didn't want to go back to that.

 Right before having my second child I had accepted the fact that I would be the main bread winner in the family. I was so in love with this man that I had no shame being fully employed and he only being partially employed. But I thought the loss of income would have inspired him to take the reins and find better employment. That didn't happen. Instead he managed to convince me to move back in with his parents in another city with the illusion that he had a great job lined up for him.

My depression swallowed me whole. I wanted to find a job where I was making the same amount as I was making before and all that was available were minimum wage jobs that wanted 10 plus year experience. I ended up going back to school to better my chances at finding a better job.

Going back to school sent me back on my road to seeking help. I went to the nearest clinic and admitted to the federally funded doctor that I suffer from anxiety. I was afraid that this doctor would say the same as the last and I didn't want to feel judged or called a liar. I didn't want to be told that I simply didn't know how to "deal with change." My fear of being judged has held me back from many things, including getting help from a doctor. Having mistrust and paranoia towards doctors should probably be a major sign that there is something seriously wrong with me. I literally just came to that conclusion. There is something seriously wrong with me. I like to believe that doctors take their oaths seriously but to me they are still human. They are still capable to judge. I am afraid of being judged. Even though I know everyone does it. Bottom line, I only fessed up to the anxiety and was prescribed Buspirone.

 In the middle of my second semester I was called in for an interview I had applied to 4 months back. I put my education on hold to rejoin the workforce at a decent wage. I made up the salary by always working overtime. Like I always do.

I may have rambled on but I feel like the back story is pertinent to my mental health situation. Bare with me I am getting to the point.

I started this post like a year ago. I do have the health insurance but I don't have the time to go see a doctor. I am still debating wether or not I should seek treatment for my depression. Part of me believes in this fairy tail that some magical concoction of pills will give me the will to do everything I ever wanted to do without this overwhelming fear. The other part believes it to be ludicrous. 

Self Actualization

I was told today that they knew what my deal is. "You are still finding yourself." All because I said I went to brunch by myself. The subject was quickly changed being that it was not a one on one conversation. I usually like to surround myself with people that can jump from one topic to another in a very attention-deficit-disorder" sort of way, but I wish we elaborated on this perception of me. It was mentioned that I was comfortable with the identity that was given to me by others.

Lately I have been pondering that scenario. I don't believe I am finding myself. The reality of who I am is pretty secure. I am not finding myself. I discovered who I was in 7th grade. I grew into my own skin from 6th to 7th grade. In 6th grade I was concerned with being popular. When I started Junior High I had attained the status I wanted. I had made my clique. I quickly realized that being popular meant being in the mean girls group. If being popular meant being catty, I wanted no part of it. That's when I realized having one quality friend was better than having a bunch of fake friends. Being Mrs. Popularity was not for me. Moving to Florida that summer also impacted who I became.

Starting out in a new school and a new state was isolating. Not to mentioned that It was starting 8th grade in a new school. Middle school is awkward on its own. I was never taught to be girlie. I wasn't allowed to wear make up. My mom didn't know how to straighten my hair so I was always going au natural. In NY humidity was almost non existent. My mom didn't even buy me hair gel for my frizzy hair. I learned to manage.

In 8th grade I befriended the school outcast. To this day I don't understand why people didn't like her. I found her to be super exciting and intriguing. She went by "Woody". She was loud and opinionated. I truly admired that. I have always gravitated towards people that stand out. I have been a non conformist from a very young age.

One day one of the girls from the popular group came up to me and asked me "Why do you hang out with her? She is so strange. You could totally be hanging with us." I don't recall what I said but I will never forget how I felt. I was disgusted by her proposition. "Abandon the person that befriended me when I was the outsider just so I can be friends with a bunch of fake people?.. No thank you!"

Woody and I ended up going to different high schools. We kept in touch freshman year but then she moved out of the neighborhood. My mom didn't drive and so I was never taught either. Even if I took drivers Ed, she couldn't afford to buy me car. I never got to see Woody anymore. So I never spoke to Woody again. A friendship isn't the same when you stop seeing each other everyday. Many years down the line I found her on Facebook. But we didn't meet up. What's the

Point of having a FB friend if you're not going to reconnect. I did learn she was dating her 8th grade crush! 10 years later. That was exciting. I wonder if she knows that she was a major impact in my life and is still thought of today. I just suck at long distance friendships/relationships.