Me on a bike! Let’s just pretend that it’s not because the coast has a dearth of hills:)
Life is beginning to return to normal after my trip to San Antonio. My introverted nature is enjoying the solitude interspersed with connections that I get to savor during the summer. My trip to San Antonio was awesome but it also strains my somewhat reserved nature to always have people around.
Brock stayed behind in Atlanta for this trip. I’m not sure what it was, but I really missed him during my absence. The feeling was mutual. We’re both used to him being gone (generally for only a night or two) for business, but somehow it’s harder when I’m the one out of the house.
My mom and I on our sky swing:) The only thing missing was a dumbwaiter to bring us beverages!
While I was gone and during my travels home, he expressed how much he missed me and was looking forward to having the pack back together. When he finally picked me up at the train station, I received a passionate hello from Tiger and a distracted peck from Brock.
My feelings were hurt, but luckily, we’ve been here before so I knew his pattern.
After I returned to a lukewarm greeting a couple years ago, I panicked. I read his seemingly uninterested welcome as a sign that he was not happy to see me. I thought he was pulling away because of some terrible reason.
I brought it up. We talked about it.
As he was struggling to help me understand his perspective, he used the term “emotionally introverted” to describe himself. He went on to explain that the feelings he had when we were reunited were overwhelming, flooding him. He had to retreat until he could become comfortable and then he would be ready to connect.
I got it. I know the way I can feel when I walk into a crowded room or I am surrounded by people for days at a time. I know those breaks I need from the stimulation so that I can reset and relax.
He wasn’t withdrawing because of an absence of emotion. He was pulling back because he felt too much emotion.
As an introvert, my behavior can be read as rude or antisocial when I am just overwhelmed and flooded.
As an emotional introvert, his behavior can be read as unloving or distancing when he is really just overwhelmed and flooded.
Even knowing this, it still stings a bit. It’s hard to to take it personally. I’m working on it.
In this instance, I didn’t say anything. I kept myself busy and gave him time. Within a few hours, I had the greeting I wanted – full kisses and a long, prone embrace. It was worth the wait.
It’s so easy to make assumptions about the reasons for someone’s actions. We see there behaviors through our own lenses. It’s worth taking the time to try to see through their eyes. You just may be surprised at what you see.
So now the two introverts – one socially and one emotionally – have both been reset and are happy to be back together as a family. At least until my next trip:)
Four years ago next month, I lost my husband. Four years ago next month, I gained a father.
My parent’s divorce occurred when I was in elementary school. My dad then relocated across the country shortly after I turned 11. We did not see much of each other for the rest of my childhood or throughout my twenties. In fact, we didn’t really know each other.
Four years ago next month, I went to visit my dad for the first time in several years. I think we were both a little nervous, as were trying to learn the choreography of our adult relationship. I was with him when I received the text that ended my marriage. In that instant, I gained a father in the truest sense of the word.
With no hesitation, I became his little girl again. He moved into action immediately, doing what he could . He held my hand for the endless trip back to Atlanta, not even letting go when he drifted off to sleep on the plane. He made the phone calls I couldn’t and stayed in the house with the dogs when I wasn’t able. He cried with me and cursed with me. He hurt with me and he healed with me.
Four years ago next month, I gained a father. A guide. A cheerleader. A mentor. A friend.
Sometimes, it takes a loss to realize what you have. You win some when you lose some. Dad, I’m glad I won you:)
Several weeks ago I let myself get down about my upcoming summer. I was in the midst of the end of school year crazies and a planned camping trip had to be canceled (along with several other weekends worth of activities) due to the constant rain that drenched Atlanta this past spring. I felt like I had nothing to look forward to this summer and all I could envision was hours spent working in front of the computer (which was pretty much how I spent last summer while finishing the book!). I allowed myself to be grouchy about the whole situation and found myself grumbling about the adventures that others had planned. Not exactly an attractive mood nor one that is likely to improve my outlook.
All I can say is that it is amazing what a different a few weeks and some awesome people can make. Well, that and some actual sunshine!
It started with my mom coming to my rescue after my whiny post. I had already booked a trip to San Antonio to see her in June but she knew that I needed more of a “vacation” feel than just visiting my hometown. She and our close family friend, Kay, worked to book a trip to the gulf coast while I’m in Texas. Not only is this precious beach time (Atlanta is pretty landlocked!) but it’s also a rare opportunity for the three of us to be together. For most of my latter childhood, it was just my mom and I. Well, two people, especially when one is a hormonal teenager, alone can get to be a bit much. Kay was frequently added to our family. She is like a sister to my mom and a cool aunt to me. She brought in needed energy and helped to mediate between my mom and me when it was needed. The last time we were together was two years ago when I last visited Texas. We went on a tour of various Hill Country Wineries. We sampled jalapeno wine, nicknamed a miniature donkey outside a wine tasting room a “burrito” and laughed more than is socially acceptable. All I can say is that Texas better watch out for this go round:)
Sardinian Miniature Donkey, Kew Gardens. (Photo credit: Jim Linwood)
Just having that coast trip on the horizon to look forward to was enough to break my funk. Sometimes it’s amazing how much of an impact a small adjustment can make. Just knowing how three days of my summer were to be spent made me see the entire expanse in a different light. I hope I can remember that lesson next time.
In the span of a few weeks, this has gone from a summer that I dreaded would be monotonous to one that is full of reconnection with my past and new adventures. And all I’ve had to do is say, “yes” to the opportunities that resented themselves. I’m reconnecting with old friends and teammates in Atlanta as we take advantage of the opportunity to leisurely lunch without cafeterias full of kids. I’m meeting up with my old boss and friend in San Antonio whose family adopted me for many holidays and birthday celebrations (he and his wife are two of my love mentors). I’m going to see Austin and Lake Travis (where I spent some time in college) from a new angle as I zipline over the lake (thanks to Kay!). And Brock and I will be returning to St. Marys (where we first talked marriage last summer:) ) to stay with our friends (and other love mentors) there.
Yippee!!!
On a more emotional front, I’m going to visit the youngest dog from my former life, who was adopted by a friend’s parents and now lives on a farm in Alabama. I’m excited about this, but also nervous, as I have not seen her (or any of the dogs, for that matter) since that life ended four years ago. I think tears will be guaranteed.
Glottis
On the new front, I spent yesterday tubing with a new group of friends. I will be going skydiving for the first time with another group of friends once I return from Texas (assuming I live through the ziplining!). I have my first girl’s weekend of my life in Tybee Island at the end of the month with an impressive group of women, only one of whom I really know.
I’ve gone from feeling grumpy to feeling grateful (and delightfully nervous about the sky high adventures!). I feel so incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such amazing people.
I feel like I’ve reversed my 20s and 30s in many ways. While touring a new friend’s college campus yesterday, it really struck me how I never did my 20s. I went to school, yet only lived the campus life for one year and even then, I was the one who would make all of the 8:00 am classes on time and would get annoyed when spontaneous parties broke out in the house. The rest of my college experience was spent working and going to school, often commuting quite a ways to reach the campus. Through all of that, I was with my ex. I never dated in my 20s. We bought a fixer-upper house at 22 and I was more concerned with the best toilet gasket to buy than finding the best blues and brews bar in town. I had friends but work and/or school was always my bigger priority. I stayed busy with occasional binges of fun, usually while on vacation.
Now, solidly in my 30s, my life has shifted. I now put more effort into finding, creating and maintaining relationships. I’ve learned that there is value in relationships and that time spent cultivating them is time well invested. I make sure fun is on the to-do list (and apparently get grumpy when it is absent!). At a time when many of peers are settling down and leaving the craziness of their 20s behind, I am welcoming some of that craziness into my own life and not just on vacation.
I don’t regret not living the life of the typical twenty something. I was happy with my choices. But there’s no rule that says that life has to take some predetermined path. That the 20s are about finding yourself and fun and the 30s are about settling down and getting serious. Besides, I’ve always found that I enjoy play more after the hard work has been done. I’m just getting better and sprinkling the play into the long sessions of work.
I feel silly now that I let myself get down. That I allowed myself to wallow in self pity. I may not have the finds that my student’s families do that allow elaborate vacations. I may not have the big family that rents a beach house for a month every year. But I have what I need and I have amazing people around me that remind me every day about what is important and make me aware of how rich my life is. My grumpiness has been replaced with gratitude and excitement (and a little healthy fear!).
It’s okay to have fun. It’s okay to set work aside for awhile. It’s okay to create things to look forward to. It’s okay to say “yes.”
And if you hear any screams coming from South Texas this week, don’t worry; It’s only me going down the zipline:)
Planning a second wedding is quite strange. It’s like walking a familiar road after being absent from a city for decades – you think you know the sites and the layout but nothing is as it was.
I don’t want to think about the first time, endlessly reflecting on how it was done before. But I do, if only to make sure I do it differently now. The basic structure of the wedding is the same: private ceremony followed by celebratory dinner with loved ones. But the details are intentionally altered. My first wedding was on a beach; this one is in the mountains. The first date was in the winter and this one is in the fall. My first dress had straps and my hair was up. Now? Strapless and hair down and loose. A Thai restaurant is replacing the Italian that served the first dinner.
There is an unplanned difference between the celebrations that struck me yesterday as I was working on the guest email list (That’s right, wedding Evites. Don’t tell Ms. Manners). There is a good chance that my dad will be the only guest present at both. As far as my family, we’re small and spread throughout the country. My mom will actually be in Italy at that time (don’t feel guilty mom -go and enjoy yourself!) and I don’t think any other family will travel. I got married the first time only 6 months after moving to Atlanta. So, the friends at our celebration were coworkers that we had at the time since we had not yet developed any meaningful relationships in the new city and our friends from Texas could not make the trip.
This time around, the friend list is long and rich with history and meaning. I have friends that have known me through my entire marriage, supported me through the divorce and have seen me blossom again. I have others that have only known me after. Brock has friends that never thought they would see him marry until they saw us together and said they knew. Even the restaurant has personal ties, as they know us well, saw the evolution of our relationship and have hosted many a gathering for Brock’s martial arts students. We will be surrounded by our community as we celebrate. That feels good.
Having friends around means I also have a shower this time through. Something I’ve never had. The hostess texted me yesterday and asked me to pick a theme: kitchen, wine, bathroom, lingerie or camping. I had to smile at the last one. She is very much a city gal so I knew she threw that in for me even though it pained her:) I chose lingerie since it’s something I never buy for myself and I left all my collection behind in my old life. Plus, sometimes it’s nice not to be practical:)
It’s crazy that, even as I’m about to move on from the past in the biggest way possible, the past still follows behind, tapping me on the shoulder occasionally just to remind me it’s there. But even though it’s sometimes strange, I’m okay with my awareness of the past. I’m not trying to run away from it or bury it where it can’t be seen. I’m hopeful that now that the planning is done (yippee!), the past will take a polite step back and maybe not follow so closely.
My life is generally divided into B.D. (before divorce) and A.D. (after divorce). I divvy up experiences, locations and even relationships between these two categories. I am (often painfully) aware of this division, this singular event that has fractured my life in two.
Last night, for a magical few hours, that mental division was erased and the crevice between my selves felt filled.
It was just a simple evening at an outdoor concert with friends – two couples, one with a kid. One from B.D. and the other (at least for me) from A.D. These blendings of friends are rare in my life due to the twin constraints of busy lives and Atlanta traffic (my B.D. friends live a minimum of 45 minutes away).
It felt great to join the two groups, but that wasn’t the magic. That’s where the kid comes in.
The B.D. friends, Sarah and Curtis, are extremely special to me (they are the ones who opened their home to me in the first year A.D. – Wanted: The Ronald McDonald House for the Recently Separated). They have been in my life for the past decade. Due to Curtis’s schedule, Sarah, my ex and I used to enjoy events together – everything from a King Tut exhibit to the annual Brew at the Zoo. We were thrilled for them when they started the adoption process almost five years ago. Although my ex and I never wanted our own children, we both enjoyed playing the avuncular role with other’s offspring.
Sarah and Curtis received the wonderful news in April of 2009 that they had a baby girl waiting for them. She was still in the NICU and would be for several more weeks due to prematurity and other complications. In their eyes, she was perfect. She came home that May. She was still quite fragile and was tethered to tubes and alarms that kept Sarah anchored in a corner of the master bedroom for the first couple weeks.
On her first Saturday home from the hospital, I made plans to visit. My ex declined to accompany. I thought it was strange for him to miss meeting this child that meant so much to our friends. I thought it was strange, but I brushed it off. In retrospect, he didn’t want to meet her because he knew his days in that life were numbered.
I’m glad they never met. That tiny, fragile infant has since grown into a spirited four year old (Let’s Go On An Adventure) that embodies a Botticelli beauty. A child that has no memory of my life B.D. and a child with whom I have no memories associated with my ex.
I loved watching her with Brock last night as he taught her how to walk Tiger on a leash (unfortunately, no photos were taken but just picture this 30 pound girl walking a 95 pound pit bull through a crowded park – the looks we got were priceless!) and she gifted him a “friendship rock.” He has fully embraced the uncle role with her, even though they do not see each other often. Brock may not have been there for those years waiting for the adoption and the first year of her life, but he’s here now. And, as far as she will know, he is the only husband (okay, so he’s not that yet, but soon:)) that I have ever had.
Brock and Tiger – two peas in a pod:)
A quick side note here – Is it weird that I love watching Brock interact with kids even though I don’t want them? I just love seeing how comfortable he is and how he understands how to communicate with them at various developmental levels. Makes me smile.
Last night, the harsh distinction (that exists more in my mind that anywhere else) between B.D. and A.D. blurred as I sat with friends who have made the journey with me and friends that have only known me after. As I looked around the group gathered on our tarp, it didn’t feel A.D.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 