This weekend is our anniversary weekend and I am effin’ PUMPED!
This is not a blog post about my sex life or the details of what is going on in our hotel room this weekend, I promise.
We usually try to get away every year to the same little town called Lunenburg about an hour from our house. We rent a room by the bay and wander around the town eating our faces off for brunch, lunch, linner, dinner, second supper, midnight snacks – and then we get completely bombed at the local pub and saunter on back to our room – we take the long way back.
That’s fuckin’ love.
We actually haven’t made this little trip in three years because the first year we missed I was knocked up, second year we had a newborn, third year we just forgot.
We forgot. That’s lame.
I am even more excited this year than usual and not just because it has been a while, but also because I feel like we really deserve to do this.
Husband works his ass off, and I get cabin fever, pretty much week to week.
The past few weeks though, this blogging has been a bit of a savior for me.
I honestly feel like it is an open diary – I don’t have a lock on it or give a shit who reads it and I have had a lot of positive feed back from so many people.
I get texts, emails, messages, tweets etc. from so many people and it makes me feel like I have a little community of like-minded quasi-friends.
When I started writing these entries I would literally read them and edit, rewrite and switch around paragraphs etc. about 5 times each.
I was finding that in my efforts to be adequate enough to post, I was focusing a lot on whether people would like the entries or not.
I was worried a lot about whether people thought this was joke, or I sucked at writing in general.
I promise you that this isn’t a joke, however funny it may come across.
As far as sucking, well, there is always going to be someone out there who thinks I suck.
I am over it already.
I broke up with that feeling and have moved on.
Now the only time I suck is when I am inhaling enough air to blow past the naysayers, the doubters and the saboteurs.
I feel intuitively stronger than ever at this point in my life.
That means I get to go with my gut feelings and trust myself with my decisions.
I get to choose my path.
I get to decide what is best for me.
I don’t have to keep negative relationships.
I can invest in the relationships that give me the most joy.
I don’t have to keep trying to sow the ground in a garden full of cow weeds.
As a matter of fact, I get to choose the soil in which I plant my seeds of trust, loyalty and love.
I get to harvest the rewards of the choices I have made for myself.
The rewards can be newfound friendships, wonderful experiences, or discoveries that I would have never had if I hadn’t taken some risks, let go of some shit and grabbed life by the balls.
Basically, what this post boils down to is the fact that we are going away for our anniversary this weekend and I have already decided I am having deep fried lobster.
Like I said, those gut feelings – I get to go with them…
…sucking and blowing all the way.
Yesterday I ran into someone I had maybe seen a total of once since leaving high school.
You all know I am 32, so it has been roughly the entire series of Grey’s Anatomy plus 3 years since I graduated… aka an entire lifetime ago since I have seen some of the people I knew so closely for the 7 years my high school years spanned.
I think we all remember what high school was like.
We had the different cliques or groups of people who had the same interests or whatever.
We all made assumptions about each other based on such trivial things as how we dressed, whether we smoked (or not), whether we put out (or not), who we dated, who our friends were, how much money we (our parents) had. We really confined ourselves, didn’t we?
Now we are full-fledged, got the badge, mother-effin adults.
We are all adulting the best we know how.
SURPRISE – even your parents didn’t really know what they were doing.
But, how many times have you ran into someone from your high school years, or even your past in general, and that meeting made you question yourself.
The person I ran into yesterday was not always a straight-A student, but she was never a real problem for teachers either. She was never mean, or a bully. She was pretty fun and seemingly happy. If I had to put her into a Freaks and Geeks compartment, she would be a Freak.
In the best way.
(Watch Freaks and Geeks on Netflix so you understand what I am talking about.)
Yesterday was an eye-opener. We were talking about some of our struggles and I am telling you something right now, this woman has been through some real shit.
She’s not complaining about not getting the time to paint a masterpiece, or that she is bored while being a stay-at-home mom. (God, that makes me feel like such an ingrate.)
She is making it work the best way she knows how.
Even though she has been through abuse, more abuse, being a single mom, trying to find work, trying to raise her child, trying to find an adequate place to live… she isn’t giving up and she is fighting the Good Fight.
The Good Fight is trying to be a better person and bettering the environment which is around you.
That doesn’t mean living in luxury – it means making the best of what you have.
The Good Fight doesn’t mean trying to make things work when they are broken – it means knowing when it is time to kick some negative people, places or things to the curb.
It doesn’t mean asking for handouts or more from others because it is deserved – it means being brave enough to ask when something is needed and humble enough to know when that need is fulfilled.
I came away from that meeting feeling like a brat.
I was raised by loving parents who probably gave into me a little too much sometimes.
I do feel like they also made me work for some things, but being the youngest of 7 children, often things were handed to me that my siblings had to work for.
If we could rewind the clock to the earliest point of mankind where we had to survive off the land – my family built their village close enough to the river so we had a little walk, but the river was accessible enough that we survived. We may have tripped a time or two on the path, but we were healthy, able to grow our own crops and to spawn generations.
Some people are born further from the river.
Their lives are fucking tough.
They learn to persevere, or die.
Their clan may live on, but they don’t have access to the resources the other family does.
Then there are others that are born on the river.
They have all the access they need to the fresh water. Their family comes to the riverbanks only to pick up what they need and then they return to their yachts.
Sometimes these people end up drowning from carrying too much on their boat.
Sometimes they end up flourishing because they only take what they need, and they are thankful.
We aren’t all born in the same circumstances. Our parents do their best from which they were born into as well…and so on and so on.
It is a heavy burden to try and break the familial cycle.
If you are what you know, how do you learn to be different?
How do you break the barriers that our establishments have set in place for you?
I am not sure. I am not a fucking genius and my life has been pretty damn cushy.
I just know what I felt yesterday was the need to be more understanding, humble and kind.
I need to understand that everyone is a product of their environment, their upbringing, and the types of opportunities they have had in life. Their choices might have gotten them into some trouble, but that is hindsight. No one makes decisions knowing that it is going to cause them to struggle. That is basic instinct of survival. We choose to do what we think is best in the moment. The repercussions are a side-effect.
I need to be more humble. This means being grateful for what I have and not being jealous of what others might have. It is a stressful life to always be seeking more and more material possessions. I have more than some, less than others.
I need to be kind. Always. The End.