Live YOUR life, not someone else's.

Sometimes you just have to decide that, “you’re fine.” That this life is enough. If I were living in a cabin in the woods and I had my animals, cats, dogs, deer, rabbits whatever the heck was out there and I had food and I had my imagination, my writing as I do now, I might still create worlds outside that cabin, but I would be content. Maybe I wouldn’t even know that people are supposed to have a companion, a partner. Maybe I would think I was the only person on Earth. I think I would be happy though. If I had a roof over my head and food and animals to talk to. Last weekend, I kinda just decided that I don’t really need anybody, I’m fine alone. And I don't mean that in a bitter way. Or an "I give up" kind of way. I mean, I spent the whole weekend writing mostly, didn’t see anyone or talk to anyone and I didn’t even notice. It seems as if the only reason I get sad over not having someone is when I see others “having someone.” It’s the truth! If Facebook didn’t exist or I wasn’t reminded of others, friend or otherwise having that one person, that husband or wife, then I really wouldn’t care. I mean I’m totally self-sufficient, I don’t need anyone to take care of me or provide for me. I entertain myself, I have my writings to provide worlds in which I can travel to in my mind. I’m not unhappy. I’m fulfilled in my life. I only seem to be really bothered about being alone whenever I’m reminded that most people in the world have someone. Whether or not that relationship is a good or healthy one, I can’t attest to that, but most people couple up in this world. I felt pressured by society and the world in general and watching every single friend I made since grade school meet the love of their life or the person they are spending it with (which I hope is one of the same). If I took all that away, if I spent my entire life away from the knowledge that people couple up, it wouldn’t even cross my mind that I “needed” someone to spend my life with. I hope my point is coming across and that makes sense. It’s been more about being “normal” and doing what everyone else does in this society, this world, than it is about what’s best for me or what I want. I mean sure, yeah I’d love to have someone to kiss and hold me and hold my hand in public as we walk down the street and share life with, but that also means I can’t do whatever I want to do close to 100% of my free time, which is how I live now. I couldn’t spend entire weekends, burying myself away, entering worlds completely unlike my own through shows or my stories I write. I could maybe do that an hour every once in awhile, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t take my attention and my focus off my girl, off maybe any children we would have together, at least not for an entire weekend. Although I’d probably try to get a weekend away from everyone every so often. Whether or not that's reality, I don't' know. At least at this point I’ve been alone far too long that if I ever did meet someone it would be a huge and overwhelming transition for me. I’d probably go get a hotel room all by myself every once in awhile, pretend I'm single again. I’d tell them of course where I was going. I think all mothers and wives should make time for themselves in order to BE good mothers and wives, otherwise you stretch yourself thin and you’re suddenly snapping over spilled milk. My Mom would always gasp and make a big deal over spilt milk. It always made me feel small, like I had done something awful. It was probably just a knee jerk reaction, but when I grew up and I thought about it I was like geez, it was only spilled milk! If it were red fruit punch on white carpet, well then that’s more understandable. But that blame really goes on the mom for giving their child red fruit punch and having white carpet to begin with. All that nonsense aside, ever since last weekend when I just decided that I was ok, that if this was it, then this was it; I didn’t “need” someone  just to feel like I fit into society better (or to prove I was in fact a real lesbian) I have become a more content person. It was like suddenly the pressure was off me to "find the one" and to have children. That weight was off my shoulders, like it was when I figured out who I truly was (kind of later in life than most).  I’m ok with me. I’m ok alone. I wouldn’t turn down a girl that came along who actually responded to me and didn’t ignore me after meeting and thinking there was a connection, because well she responded once or twice, but then that was it! If it happens it happens, I’m just not willing to seek it out anymore. I’m not willing to spend my free time doing things I don’t want to do, only because I feel like I have to in order to “meet someone.” When you take away that pressure to “be like everyone else” even though that ship has already sailed in terms of being in a heteronormative relationship, you suddenly feel free. You feel free to live your life how you see fit. What makes YOU happy. Fuck everyone else. If you think they are out there thinking “oh poor girl, she’ll never get married and have a baby and be as happy as me,” you’re right. You won’t. You’ll be HAPPIER than them, because their life is NOT YOUR LIFE. Their life is theirs and your life is yours. (Plus happiness isn't measurable any way).

It’s human nature to compare: our houses, our children, our husbands or wives, our lives. But if everyone had the exact same life, it would be one boring ass world. There would be nothing to talk about. “Oh your husband plays golf on Sundays. Yeah mine does too…” bore snore. We’re all here on this Earth to tell our own stories and to help others. Anyone. Help anyone. So that that ONE person you helped can have a better story to tell…and then the cycle will continue.

smitten smile

I was thinking about those little times I’ve been smitten. Most recently with someone I only met briefly but have since emailed a few times with. If anything I was thinking maybe I’d gain a friend like me. One that gets the same references to my favorite characters on shows, or who just agrees that Kate McKinnon is the greatest gay gal in our generation. Regardless, I just felt myself gain a little bit of hope when she replied to me that first time. And then when she replied back a second time, I felt a little smile creep up on my face. That little smitten smile. One I’ve very rarely ever had. She responded in a timely matter, it became a back and forth thing, even if just for the better part of a week. I felt a little bit of hope, a little bit of excitement of where it could lead. It wasn’t a full blown crush or a full blown anything. It was just a little bit, but it was enough. And when she didn’t reply a couple days later, like she had with the previous ones, I knew this was probably it, the end. But I still gave her the benefit of the doubt. She was probably just busy. But then when a week went by with no response, I knew for sure that that was it. She wasn’t busy. She just wasn’t interested. And that’s ok. I mean it has to be, right? People either feel a connection or they don’t. People don’t invest in what they aren’t interested in. People don’t engage if they don’t feel there’s a reason to. People might respond out of politeness a few times but that’s it. They aren’t going to keep it going if they don’t see the relationship going anywhere. I like to think I give people more of a chance than I’m given. You have to get to know someone in order to get to know them. Well that’s a redundant statement. But I’m glad I tried. I’m glad I reached out. I’m glad I didn’t just cast aside following up on a chance meeting of someone that I thought was interesting and had similar interests as me. Maybe it had nothing to do with me at all, she’s just already maxed out on the number of people in her life that she can invest time in. That’s understandable. I feel I have all the time in the world, but no one to give it to. Even when I do try, it’s not reciprocated. Not because that friend doesn’t like me anymore, but simply because they’re at capacity in the relationship category. They have their husband, their children and their one best friend and that’s the cap. They’ve reached their limit and the lights are flashing that there is no more room for anyone else in their life. Not in a real way, at least. It is what it is. As sad as this may sound, I love writing because it always has time for me. Never once have I not been able to write. Even if I don’t have a pad and paper or my tablet, I always have my phone and the notes section in it. It’s rare that I don’t have anything. But I guess when I don’t, I have my brain. I have my thoughts and I can stare out and just write away in my mind. I might not necessarily remember all of it later to write it down, but sometimes you don’t need to. I don’t need to re-read it. I just needed it in that moment. Writing is definitely better than thinking and like I said, who doesn’t ever not have their phone on them nowadays? There’s always a place to jot down what you’re thinking.

And this was what I was thinking about today by the lake. On this shore. In this picture.

I’m glad I had that moment of smitten-ness. Even if it was fleeting. Because it meant I was alive. It meant I still had a sliver of hope left buried down deep in the depths of my soul. I still believed that meeting someone could turn into something more than a few seconds of my life.

And that’s it. Short and sweet blog. Much like how that encounter was.