I never wanted to be a crazy girlfriend, but as time goes on I realize that the crazy in me will come out at times one way or another and the best I can do is accept it. The more I try to resist and chastise myself for acting "crazily", the crazier I will become. There is just something about being in a relationship, or romantic interactions in general, that brings out some irrational and irreconcilable part of myself that I cannot predict or seemingly control. I get highly emotional, threatening, and dramatic. I am working on it, but have to be patient with myself in order to do so, and it is a slow process. Thankfully my partner has "a mature and patient love" for me, so he helps me to accept my own crazy.
Here I will confess some of my sins:
-irrational upset when partner doesn't answer phone
-fury upon partner not doing something he said he would, however small
-nagging of partner to stop smoking/drinking so much without empathy to habits changing slowly
I've always had this little perfectionist inside me that is constantly nagging me to be better, eat better, live better, and also have the perfect partner. I know that perfection is not possible and if I could I would quietly kill her in her sleep and then I could live a less stressful life overall, but unfortunately it is not by knife or suffocation that she can be exterminated. Only by slow and patient reminders to myself and reflection upon the ways I have changed and dealt with my crazy. The times I've realized that I'm bored and restless and I start thinking "why the F*** isn't he answering his phone", that I catch myself and do something fun. I don't need to rely on my partner for my entertainment and to keep occupied. In fact, that would likely lead to the downfall of our partnership. Just sharing your life with someone brings all your shortcomings into your consciousness because you have another set of eyes observing your innermost thoughts and behaviours.
I think I'm on the right track, just have to remember to breathe.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Routines with grandma
Visiting a 92 year old woman is a respite from the busy noisy responsibility of city life. At grandma's house, every activity is an event on its own. From having a conversation to grocery shopping, a break is necessary on the way or in between and there is always a nap. I find myself following her routine like a disciple, hungrily awaiting the next lesson of life's simplicity. Where life is full of ice cream and reading books, I really cannot complain and am throughly enjoying myself. I am currently reading 4 books at the same time :)
I have recently been looking into working in the field of wilderness therapy, the act of isolating oneself to bring out true emotions and work through situations that one needs to build perspective on. Being here has done the same: clarified thoughts, given me time to think and cry, to breathe, to remember how to relax, to make decisions and consider options for my future. The wilderness of grandma's house.
We laugh and talk and I tell her about the internet, while she tells me about "fast" girls in her generation. She is fascinated by certain aspects of my life, while I wish she were more interested in others, and we play cards. Games always bring out a different aspect of a person that is delightful to experience. Teasing, name calling and self depreciation ensues. It feels like the most important thing in the world that you win that round for an hour or 2, and a wrong move can sting well after the game.
But one of the most valuable things that comes plentifully at grandma's house is unconditional love. The generation removed really clears the stresses of having grown up in the same house as someone and having spent some of my favourite summers here gives me a sense of youthful happiness. I remember tasting macintosh apples for the first time, going to the farms and picking berries, and delicious raisin bran muffins from the oven.
Grandma can't do a lot of these things anymore, she can't stand long enough to bake, she can't drive to the farms, or even bite into an apple. But it doesn't matter because I get to do those things for her now. She made my life better and I enjoy every opportunity to do the same for her.
I have recently been looking into working in the field of wilderness therapy, the act of isolating oneself to bring out true emotions and work through situations that one needs to build perspective on. Being here has done the same: clarified thoughts, given me time to think and cry, to breathe, to remember how to relax, to make decisions and consider options for my future. The wilderness of grandma's house.
We laugh and talk and I tell her about the internet, while she tells me about "fast" girls in her generation. She is fascinated by certain aspects of my life, while I wish she were more interested in others, and we play cards. Games always bring out a different aspect of a person that is delightful to experience. Teasing, name calling and self depreciation ensues. It feels like the most important thing in the world that you win that round for an hour or 2, and a wrong move can sting well after the game.
But one of the most valuable things that comes plentifully at grandma's house is unconditional love. The generation removed really clears the stresses of having grown up in the same house as someone and having spent some of my favourite summers here gives me a sense of youthful happiness. I remember tasting macintosh apples for the first time, going to the farms and picking berries, and delicious raisin bran muffins from the oven.
Grandma can't do a lot of these things anymore, she can't stand long enough to bake, she can't drive to the farms, or even bite into an apple. But it doesn't matter because I get to do those things for her now. She made my life better and I enjoy every opportunity to do the same for her.
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Surviving relationships, making relationships survive
When I was in my early teens I used to cry to my mother that I would never have a boyfriend, no one would ever love me. To this day, I'm not completely sure where these thoughts came from and why I was so distraught about them. It could've been because I was being bullied in school, or that my mother was at the height of her career and didn't have as much time for me as I would have liked, that I was having a difficult time having a positive relationship with my deaf father or because my best friend moved away. It was most likely a combination of all of those things, but translated into a desperate desire to be loved, not just by anyone, but by a boy.
What followed was a series of both positive and negative interactions with boys, as I tried to navigate the waters of love. My definition of love was very much entrenched in the idea of being sexy, or sexually appealing. If someone were to want to have sex with me, then they must love me. Or so I thought at the time. Because I wanted to be loved so badly, I became indiscriminate about who I let have sex with me. And I would this purposefully, "who I let have sex with me", because these sexual encounters were a far cry from two people having sex together and very much me mentally checking out while someone did things to my body that I selectively chose to remember.
Eventually one of my first reality checks was with a guy whom I had a mutual crush on for a few years, since the beginning of university. We had communicated over instant messaging over the years and hung out from time to time and finally we decided to have the sex. Afterwards, I convinced myself that it was a positive and very intimate and wonderful experience, but a few days later he let it be known to me that it was very uncomfortable and negative for him. Reflecting upon it I know that he was right and that I was in the habit of shutting off and twisting around what happened. It was a fantasy world that I lived in. Unfortunately he was hurt by this experience and decided to humiliate me to get back at me.
But I would like to highlight my more positive experiences and this man ultimately did me a favour by pointing out the truth, that I was living in a false reality that was not bringing me joy or satisfaction. The truth will set you free and that was a turning point that started an upswing in my efforts to lead a more healthy and happy sexual existence.
This effort was not without many more mistakes to come, as one does not change one's habits overnight. There were times I beat myself up because now I knew better and how could I still get caught in the same traps as I had before. One big element that needed to be evaluated was the amount of alcohol that I consumed. I didn't consider myself a big drinker, and it seemed as if the people around me consumed as much, if not more than I did. But my biggest reality check with my drinking was dating Tom. Tom was from Germany where the drinking age is much lower. I'm not sure if this is why or he just spent time with more wholesome friends, but he had never thrown up or gotten sick from drinking. This was a shock to me. Hadn't everyone in the world blacked out and thrown up and generally been irresponsible through the means of alcohol?
Apparently not, and not only that, but as our relationship progressed i began sharing some elements of my sexual past with him and he was shocked into silence. He seemed to be more impacted by my experiences than even I was. At the time this felt tedious and annoying because he gave me the silent treatment and ruminated for hours about how badly I was treated, his "precious rose". It caused him much pain. Sometimes pain is too much to experience oneself and the only way to deal with it is to watch someone else have the "appropriate" emotions for you. I know this because I have done the same for another of my friends.
But again this seemingly negative time was actually again a catalyst for me to come to terms with things and move forward with my life. Since Tom,I have had more positive than negative sexual experiences, become a lot more monogamous, and drank much less.
And now I am in a self proclaimed monogamous highly communicative relationship with a wonderful man. Hard work really does pay off.
What followed was a series of both positive and negative interactions with boys, as I tried to navigate the waters of love. My definition of love was very much entrenched in the idea of being sexy, or sexually appealing. If someone were to want to have sex with me, then they must love me. Or so I thought at the time. Because I wanted to be loved so badly, I became indiscriminate about who I let have sex with me. And I would this purposefully, "who I let have sex with me", because these sexual encounters were a far cry from two people having sex together and very much me mentally checking out while someone did things to my body that I selectively chose to remember.
Eventually one of my first reality checks was with a guy whom I had a mutual crush on for a few years, since the beginning of university. We had communicated over instant messaging over the years and hung out from time to time and finally we decided to have the sex. Afterwards, I convinced myself that it was a positive and very intimate and wonderful experience, but a few days later he let it be known to me that it was very uncomfortable and negative for him. Reflecting upon it I know that he was right and that I was in the habit of shutting off and twisting around what happened. It was a fantasy world that I lived in. Unfortunately he was hurt by this experience and decided to humiliate me to get back at me.
But I would like to highlight my more positive experiences and this man ultimately did me a favour by pointing out the truth, that I was living in a false reality that was not bringing me joy or satisfaction. The truth will set you free and that was a turning point that started an upswing in my efforts to lead a more healthy and happy sexual existence.
This effort was not without many more mistakes to come, as one does not change one's habits overnight. There were times I beat myself up because now I knew better and how could I still get caught in the same traps as I had before. One big element that needed to be evaluated was the amount of alcohol that I consumed. I didn't consider myself a big drinker, and it seemed as if the people around me consumed as much, if not more than I did. But my biggest reality check with my drinking was dating Tom. Tom was from Germany where the drinking age is much lower. I'm not sure if this is why or he just spent time with more wholesome friends, but he had never thrown up or gotten sick from drinking. This was a shock to me. Hadn't everyone in the world blacked out and thrown up and generally been irresponsible through the means of alcohol?
Apparently not, and not only that, but as our relationship progressed i began sharing some elements of my sexual past with him and he was shocked into silence. He seemed to be more impacted by my experiences than even I was. At the time this felt tedious and annoying because he gave me the silent treatment and ruminated for hours about how badly I was treated, his "precious rose". It caused him much pain. Sometimes pain is too much to experience oneself and the only way to deal with it is to watch someone else have the "appropriate" emotions for you. I know this because I have done the same for another of my friends.
But again this seemingly negative time was actually again a catalyst for me to come to terms with things and move forward with my life. Since Tom,I have had more positive than negative sexual experiences, become a lot more monogamous, and drank much less.
And now I am in a self proclaimed monogamous highly communicative relationship with a wonderful man. Hard work really does pay off.
Friday, March 28, 2014
Monday, February 17, 2014
Saturday, February 15, 2014
New Website
I haven't been posting lately because I started up my new website, which if you're interested in doulas or birth you most definitely should check out…
http://www.nature-born.com
http://www.nature-born.com
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Random thoughts about Portland
I am in Portland. It's been a few days and I'm adjusting well. Taking deep breaths through the hard parts, like the cold and mostly the cold. I'm going to win this battle through. That's what it feels like, a battle. See I got a very cheap place to live and I know that this is part of the consequences: being crafty. I figure this is good training. I'm learning how to survive in a new kind of climate. Canada trained me a little with it's -30 C, but now I need to learn cold temperatures in Fahrenheit and USA.
It's always hard to move to a new city socially. It takes time to get to know people, repeated visits, familiarity. It's disorienting at times, literally. It's impossible to predict what's going to happen. You don't even know what's 2 blocks over from where you live for a while.
But I did find a DIY bicycle shop and I'm working on getting in with them. My love of bicycles helps guide me to positive social interaction. It's interesting getting to know people surrounding a particular hobby. You get to slowly piece together their personality and you both are standing side by side fixing bikes. My hands are black and have little cuts all over them. The signs of hard work and bicycles.
I work at a pizza shop. In exchange for my rent. I like it. It feels like I'm not spending money. Although I am spending money because there are so many restaurants to try, and it's too cold in my house to cook. So I'm giving myself permission to eat what I want, because it helps me cope, with the cold.
I enjoy talking to strangers. When you don't have many friends to socialize with, then it's easy to launch into personal conversations with Joe on the street and social interactions are more cherished.
The library is a wonderful place. It's warm, it has free internet, water, bathroom. You don't have to buy anything. There is endless entertainment. The librarians have always been friendly and helpful to me. It's one the best resources you can utilize when moving to a new city. They have the answer. And if they don't, they will likely find it for you.
If you didn't guess already, that is where I am currently and I feel like it's helping to win this battle against the cold. 2 points team Rose! The only problem is that you can't eat, so I went into the bathroom to sneak a couple of bites of burrito that I got on my walk over here. Kinda gross maybe, but the burrito was delicious and my tummy is full. This burrito is the size of my head, I got it at one of the food trucks that Portland is famous for. It will last me the day as far as what I need for food and it's stuffed with such a variety of things: cilantro, egg, potato, beans, cheese, onions. Everything I need. A library and a burrito.
It's always hard to move to a new city socially. It takes time to get to know people, repeated visits, familiarity. It's disorienting at times, literally. It's impossible to predict what's going to happen. You don't even know what's 2 blocks over from where you live for a while.
But I did find a DIY bicycle shop and I'm working on getting in with them. My love of bicycles helps guide me to positive social interaction. It's interesting getting to know people surrounding a particular hobby. You get to slowly piece together their personality and you both are standing side by side fixing bikes. My hands are black and have little cuts all over them. The signs of hard work and bicycles.
I work at a pizza shop. In exchange for my rent. I like it. It feels like I'm not spending money. Although I am spending money because there are so many restaurants to try, and it's too cold in my house to cook. So I'm giving myself permission to eat what I want, because it helps me cope, with the cold.
I enjoy talking to strangers. When you don't have many friends to socialize with, then it's easy to launch into personal conversations with Joe on the street and social interactions are more cherished.
The library is a wonderful place. It's warm, it has free internet, water, bathroom. You don't have to buy anything. There is endless entertainment. The librarians have always been friendly and helpful to me. It's one the best resources you can utilize when moving to a new city. They have the answer. And if they don't, they will likely find it for you.
If you didn't guess already, that is where I am currently and I feel like it's helping to win this battle against the cold. 2 points team Rose! The only problem is that you can't eat, so I went into the bathroom to sneak a couple of bites of burrito that I got on my walk over here. Kinda gross maybe, but the burrito was delicious and my tummy is full. This burrito is the size of my head, I got it at one of the food trucks that Portland is famous for. It will last me the day as far as what I need for food and it's stuffed with such a variety of things: cilantro, egg, potato, beans, cheese, onions. Everything I need. A library and a burrito.
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