The Power of Forgiveness

I believe in forgiveness.  And I know that while it is sometimes a very difficult, or close to impossible, thing to do, forgiving someone really eases a burden off of your heart.  I think that there are a lot of people in my life that I need to forgive.  Not forget, but forgive, for my own sanity and sense of well being.

That said, I was recently forgiven by someone.  And I can't believe how good it feels.  I was completely wrong in my actions and someone was hurt by what I did.  For the last few months, that person has been weighing heavily on my mind and heart.  How could I, a person who prides herself on being honest and caring and good (somewhat), do what I did and not reach out and apologize?  Most people think that there are three words in the English language that are the most difficult to say - I love you - but it's really only two - I'm sorry.

Because of my last post, I have had the opportunity to apologize.  Sincerely and heartfelt.  And the beauty of it is that I was forgiven.  It's a gift.  A wonderful, beautiful gift to be able to be forgiven.  I don't know when I will be able to forgive myself for my actions in harming this person, but surely this is the first step in the process isn't it?

And if someone else, whom I have never even met, is able to forgive me for things that I have done that led to their pain, shouldn't I be able to look into my own heart and do the same for those who have hurt me?  I really don't know the answer to that yet.  All I know is that I am going to try.  Try and be the best person that I can be and not let the negativity and ignorance of other people pull me down.  Try and be as open and loving and honest as I can without letting people use me and walk all over me.  Try and look at the beauty in the world and aspire to be as beautiful as I can be as a human being.  And most definitely try and be the kind of person my children can look up to and be proud to call mom.

And my heart feels good these days.  I feel like this huge weight has been lifted off of me.  And it's such a special feeling.

Thank you to that special person who found it in their heart to say - I forgive you.  You will never know how much that means to me.

Love and Underwear

Welcome back to the wild ride that is my life.  Where nothing changes and the carousel spins faster.

I've had a lot - and I mean A LOT - of alone time lately.  I should be writing.  I should be cleaning out my refrigerator and dusting my knickknacks.  But mostly, I have spent a good portion of that time thinking.  And really being confused.  And not knowing which direction to go in.

But I think that's a good thing.  Because confusion is just one way to grow as a person.  It makes you sit back and take a hard look at your life.  To identify the myriad of mistakes that you have made and analyze them in order to not repeat them.  

Finally I have come to the conclusion that maybe I am not cut out for this love thing.  Every time, I get hurt and disappointed and used and betrayed.  And that isn't a ploy for sympathy, it is just a fact.  I end up falling for the most irresponsible, unavailable, insane and potentially sociopathic men that are out there.  I let my walls down and then BAM, I get blindsided by some bullshit.

Don't get me wrong, I am definitely not a man hater.  It just seems to me that I am a magnet for the wrong guy for me type.  I always fall for the broken or needy or counterfeit man, instead of the emotionally stable, supportive, loving man.

Point in case.  I was in a relationship that was not good for me.  By the end of our time together, I sear to God, I didn't know which way was up.  I was so confused about what was going on in my life and my feelings for that person that I couldn't see that he was slowly destroying my independence and self-esteem.  All of my emotions were tied up in HIS feelings and HIS wants and HIS needs.  I became an extension of him instead of a partner in his life.  I was so afraid of losing him that I failed to see all of the other things in my life that I lost because of him.

That is over now.  Thank God.  And do you know why?  Because he finally returned my underwear.  Real life is stranger than fiction and one day, I received a thirty pound package in the mail.  It was all of the stuff that he failed to return to me when we split up.  In that box was a bag with 43 pairs of underwear in it.  What the fuck?  Who keeps someone's underwear?  And if that sounds strange, there are so many other weird stories that I could share, but I'll leave that for another time.  But what the package allowed me to do, was to close a door on that part of my life and hopefully heal and move on to better things.

Since then, I have been able to rebuild some of the relationships that I lost because of that person with my friends and family.  I have looked at myself and found that I really like who I am as a person.  I am flawed and fucking fabulous.  I have talent and drive and determination.  I have the ability to look at people and find the good in them.  I can take mistakes and heartbreak and turn them into learning experiences.

I have also found out that I love LOVE.  The ability to take your own feelings out of the equations and just be there for another person.  For a partner, or a friend or a family member.  It doesn't have to be a romantic situation.  But love in and of itself is a thing of beauty.  Whether it's your child picking wildflowers for you, or getting frantic phone calls from your family because they haven't heard from you in 24 hours and are making sure you are still OK, the ability to love and be loved is a wonderful skill to have.

One thing I am refusing to do right now is fall in love.  I need a break from the insanity.  Because as great as it is to love someone, it is also equally as painful in my own personal experience.  If it's out there, it's out there.  If it's not, so what?  Who cares right now?  I feel no pressure to jump back into a relationship with someone just to be in a relationship.  I would rather work on the people in my life now who are important to me and be able to grow in my relationships with them.  To give more of myself to the people who matter to me like my children and my friends and family and work on my career.  I want to practice yoga, quit smoking, get in shape, learn to play the guitar, fly a plane, dance until I can't breathe, get caught in a rainstorm, feel the sun beat down on my face, cry when something makes me sad and laugh every single day.

And since this post was a bit fucking maudlin, I am going to leave you with some quips that I have come up with that make my friends laugh:

• I have never claimed to be a slut in this life!
• The %&(# clan war just went supernova.
• If we aren't in 7th grade anymore, why does your hair look like Justin Bieber's?
• You can melt anything with a hot enough flame. (not a good one, but I was a bit drunk at the time)
• w w w dot mustache rides dot com - where cougars go for a great time
• AND - my favorite - I only answer to two people in my life.  Me.  And Jesus.

I don't know if those are funny our of context, but I'm leaving them up to remind me of the times I came up with them and how much fun you can have when you let go of something that wasn't real to begin with.

All of my love!

Autumn

The Imbalance of Relationships

It has been recently brought to my attention (again) that there is always an imbalance in any relationship.  Whether one friend is more involved than the other, one partner is more giving than the other or the bee drone lives to serve the queen, there never seems to be an equal balance.  

Why is this?  Why do we allow our partner, friends, loved ones to give more to us than we can or are willing to give back to them?  And on the other side, why do people allow themselves to give so much without getting back what they deserve?  Is it always this way, or does that balance shift back and forth over the nature of the relationships?

I think that this is sometimes yes and sometimes no.  The drones will always serve the queen without necessarily getting anything back other than fulfilling their jobs within the animal kingdom.  But where this balance of power may work with other species, we as humans certainly have more control over our own destiny.  But why then, aware of that control, do some people continue to fight what seems to be a losing battle?  Giving so much of themselves and not really getting anything back in return.  

This thought brings me back to an episode of Friends where Phoebe argues that there IS such a thing as complete altruism.  In the end, she allows a bee to sting her to get her point across, not realizing that the bee dies as a result.  But in real life, we are not able to be completely altruistic.  In fact, a lot of people are just plain old selfish assholes who take and take and take until finally, the people around them and involved with them cut them loose to save themselves.

So..... hmmm.....  I am struggling with this thought.  It's been floating around in my brain a while now.  Just because.  I watch the people around me.  I have been involved in this so-called imbalance with family, friends and relationships.  On both sides.  And what it really comes down to is the fact that while I think there will always be someone who gives more, I don't think it has to be a drastic difference.  Maybe in a personal relationship one partner has a bad day or week or month and the other picks up the slack and gives a little more of himself.  And the other partner realizes this, acknowledges and appreciates it.  But instead of being on a teeter-totter where one person is sitting their fat ass at the bottom and the other one is at the top, giving for all they're worth, I believe that any relationship will grow and continue when each person involved tries as hard as they can to keep the plank balanced in the middle, dipping up and down slightly.  There will be times when one person needs the other more, but as long as we keep giving as much as we possibly can of ourselves to others, without being selfish dickwads, then I think that maybe, just maybe we can have that ever elusive balance.

I am still looking for it.  And maybe I am just a mellow, Pollyanna bitch tonight because I got to hang with my best friend today, get some sun and grill out, but I have hope for the future.  Hope that I can be less selfish and more giving.  Hope that the people who are and will be in my life will be the same.

Love, Peace and Chicken Grease! 

Fat and Happy?

I wonder if being happy makes you fat?  

Not necessarily MAKES you fat, but is there a correlation between being happy and maybe having a few extra pounds to lose?  Do some people take shortcuts with their health and fitness when things are going well?  

I don't really know the answer to that in general terms, but I do know that answer in my own life and that is a resounding Y-E-S.  I have gained close to 20 pounds in the last 2 years.  I have gone from mostly fit to a little out of shape.  I got lazy.  But was I really happy?  I know that I was depressed at times.  I was on medication for a misdiagnosed condition, so that had something to do with the weight gain.  I thought I was blissfully happy, so instead of making more time to take care of myself, I was spending more time working, with my children and my partner and I quit doing the physical things that both kept me in shape and released endorphins into my system, thus helping to keep my weight down.

I have pretty much always been on the thin side.  Most people thought I had an eating disorder for a long time, just because I had a super low BMI.  Not true.  What I had was a life filled with chaos.  I was going to school, working two to three jobs at a time and I was on my feet constantly.  This kept me slim.  Not skinny, but slim.  I have always looked like I weigh about 10 - 15 pounds less than I really do, so there was also a misperception of how much I weighed.  What was still on the pretty thin side was considered super skinny by people who didn't know me, because they looked at me and thought I was much smaller than I really was.  I even had a few doctors get on my case, which was hilarious because back then, I cold eat anything I wanted and not gain an ounce.  But I was constantly stressed out.  I was working my ass off, literally.  So keeping in shape wasn't difficult.

Then came a second child.  I had to work a lot harder to lose that weight and get in shape.  But I did it and I started kickboxing, which is really great for toning up and burning calories.  But I still felt unhappy.  I still had this internal drive to keep moving forward, keep going on, keep working harder.  So I did, but I never felt really happy.

But as I said before, in the last two years, I slowed down.  I took time to focus on my health and well being.  I got a mixed up group of medicines and I got lazy.  And let's face it: a little chubby.  I stopped kickboxing.  I quit yoga and dance.  And even when I was working hard and traveling, I didn't focus on being healthy.  I ate on the run and what I did eat was full of fat.  That added to sitting on my ass and doing nothing also helped contribute.

So what does it all mean?  I don't think being happy means you gain weight.  I think losing sight of who you are - in my case - certainly helped add to it though.  And since I am changing my life, I am also changing this "thing" that is bothering me.  These few extra pounds that I am carrying around need to go bye-bye.  I neither need nor want to be skinny though.  I want to be fit and in shape.  I want to work off some of this cellulite and tone up again.  AND I think punching a heavy bag would help me out so much right now.  I even have some faces that I could tape up there for motivation!

I am so excited to be writing again.  I don't know where this is going, but I am doing it for ME.  Just like Ricky Bobby.

Have a safe and wonderful Memorial Day weekend and take the time out of your day to thank a veteran.

Much love.

Emotional

I have been super emotional lately.  It's easily explained and understandable considering the fact that pretty much everything in my life has changed.  

The most important thing is that I continue to tell myself that it's OK to cry.  I hate crying.  I don't lean on other people or look outside of myself for support.  But tonight, I did just that.  I called a friend.  A great, wonderful, loving friend who was sooooo there for me.  Just to listen and tell me that I am a good person and that I do deserve good things in life and that it's OK to be sad right now.  

Surprisingly enough, I'm not that angry.  Maybe that will come later.  Ok, scratch that, I am angry, but I'm trying to not let it overtake me.  My main emotion right now is sadness and hurt.  And self-loathing.  I have never really let that many people get close to me and now I feel like a fool because I did let someone in and they have almost destroyed me.  Someone I thought was my best friend turned out to be anything but a friend.  

So now, I feel like I am starting all over.  Again.  For the umpteenth time.  And I have to seriously ask myself how much of this is my fault because I opened myself up to being hurt.  Knowingly.  I honestly knew that there was a good chance that things would end up the way they did.  It's like the story of the Frog and the Scorpion.  The scorpion promises not to sting the frog if he takes him across the river, but halfway across, he stings him anyway.  Because THAT IS WHAT A SCORPION DOES!!!!  And I got stung.  I knew I would get stung.  

So now, I just have to get the venom out.  It is going to take a long time because I was stung over and over and over again.  Like a fool.  Like the stupid frog who died.  But I love frogs.  They are actually some of my favorite creatures.  They learn how to adapt to their environments and blend in to protect themselves from predators.  

So I am going to learn to be more like the frog, without the trusting nature in the fable.  I will learn how to blend into my environment.  I will try to heal and to move on, because I have gotten through worse things than this.  Not many, but I think I can do it.  

And the next time I see a scorpion, I will crush it under my 4 inch stilettos.

It's Never Too Late to Start Over

In the last few years, my life has had more changes than I ever expected. If someone had told me when I started this blog that at thirty-three years old I would be single and unemployed, I would have bitch slapped them, but here I am anyway.

I have made some poor decisions in my life. I have alienated friends and family. I have gone on medication, gone off of medication, gone back on medication and switched medication more times than a Hollywood starlet changes lovers. I have battled through some serious health issues. I have strained against the chains that I felt were binding me until they were broken. I have added to my own suffering by burrowing in my nest and shutting out the world. I stopped writing. I stopped taking the joy that life has always handed to me.

Now I recognize that it is time for me to wake up. To grow up and move forward. I need to dig myself out of this hole of seclusion and delusion that I have been living in and embrace life again. Because I once enjoyed the world. For all the wrongs and negatives that there are out there, there is so much more that is right and good.

I have friends and family who love me. I have things to offer to others. I have a full life to live and I can't do that while curled up in the fetal position with my sheets pulled over my head, refusing to do more than the basic necessities in order to survive.

I have completely changed my life recently. And you know what? I am happier than I can ever remember being. Sure I have moments, a lot of moments (let's be honest here), filled with doubt and self-loathing. But I have recognized my life for what it has become and I am making changes. Most people would probably fall into an even deeper depression to wake up one morning and realize that they no longer have a job or a relationship. But me? I am thrilled.

I can now make my life anything I want it to be. It's kind of like spending during a recession. It doesn't make sense, but somehow it works economically. I don't want to save my joys for a rainy day. I don't want to hoard a chance at happiness for the future. My chance is right now, in this time and place, to do what I want, when I want it.

I am going for the brass ring. That ever elusive symbol of wholeness that seems so far out of reach. It's not though. I can see it. It's right in front of me. I don't know what it represents to me - YET. All I know is that it is just sitting there, waiting for me to grab on tight and never let go.

My world is filled with limitless opportunities. I can be anyone, I can do anything and I can and will take my time, explore my options and not only make the best of my situation, but I will make life my bitch. I spit in the direction of haters and detractors. I laugh in the face of uncertainty. And last but not least, I take heart that I have people out there who care for and love me the way that I deserve.

I am Autumn and I am happy.

A Short Story

She stood at the door with great trepidation, hesitating to raise her hand and knock. Somewhere between the slam of her car door and the walk up the front steps to the man waiting inside, she had lost her composure. She had the entire conversation planned out in her mind, but now faced with the reality of what was about to happen, everything she had so meticulously outlined was forgotten. The closer she got to the door, the more her hands began to shake. Her stomach was in knots and her knees went weak. How was she supposed to explain to him that their lives were about to take a turn that neither of them had planned on? It had taken her two days to muster the courage to face him and if she followed her instincts and turned around, she knew she would never have the strength to say what needed to be said and to do what needed to be done.

Steeling herself against her own apprehension, she knocked boldly on the front door. It may have been easier to use the key that he had given her, but she wanted to be formal and she had not spoken to him since she received the news two days ago. He had called and texted and e-mailed her incessantly for the last forty eight hours. She heard the news herself at 2:06 P.M. on Monday afternoon and now it was almost exactly two days later to the tee. While she waiting for him to come to the door, she could smell the fresh cut lawn. She felt the sun beating down and the breeze cooling the sweat that began beading on her skin as much from her frayed nerves as from the heat of the afternoon.

Just before he opened the door, a surprising calm came over her. Suddenly she knew the exact words to use. The right tone to take. As he opened the door and came into full view, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. While they stood there, drinking each other in, it occurred to her that two days was the longest that they had gone without seeing each other in some capacity for the last year. Here was the man that she had come to love without hesitation or reservation. His posture was regal, his shoulders pulled back in juxtaposition to the faded jeans he was wearing and his bare feet. There was just something about the combination of his formal bearing and casual nature that had appealed to her from the first.

Without saying a word, he lifted one eyebrow quizzically and gestured her inside and out of the heat. She let the coolness of the foyer wash over her as she looked around the room. Nothing had changed here, but everything had changed for them. This time, there was no looking back. They both had an important decision to make. In a relationship that they had both entered wounded and scared, time and love had seen enormous growth in both of them individually and as a couple. They had learned so much from one another and had grown so close that it was sometimes difficult for their friends and family to see them as anything other than the unit that they had created together.

The two of them had resisted enormous pressure from both of their families to make their union more formal. Neither had a strong desire to enter into a legally binding contract when their hearts were already married. For the last two years, that had worked out well for both of them. While she had practically lived with him for the majority of those two years, she had still kept a separate apartment. It was her security blanket against pain. A safe haven where she could run to if things got a little hairy, which they had. Especially in the beginning. It had caused a lot of arguments between them in an otherwise non-contentious and loving union. At first, he insisted that she give up her place and move in with him. She dug in her heels and refused, citing that she wanted to be certain of their complete partnership before making such a huge move. He had finally given up many months before and resigned himself to her stubborn nature. He figured that she would make the move when she was ready.

Without saying a word, he reached out and took her hand and lifted it to his lips. She could see the worry and concern in his eyes. While she usually went back to her place when he was away, or to check her mail, she was never far from reach and they spoke on the phone several times a day if they were apart, so his concern was not without merit. As they walked into the living room, her heart skipped a beat. After the kitchen, this was the core of their home together. Ownership of the home meant little to either of them when anyone could look around and see that they were present in every corner of the house. They had picked out and redesigned each and every room together, laughing as they argued over paint colors and fabric samples. They purchased several pieces of artwork together as well as the bargain buys they had found at estate sales and discount stores. It was an eclectic mix that reflected who they were as a couple and they were justifiably proud of what they had built together.

As they sat down on the sectional couch that they had spent months searching for until they decided to design one themselves, her hands once again began to tremble and she could now see fear replace the concern in his eyes. She started to speak, but faltered before she could get any sound to come out of her mouth. As she began to tremble he pulled her into his arms and held her as she sobbed. Her heart was breaking for what she had to do. There was no way that she could keep this from him, even though it might destroy him, but the words still wouldn't come.

As her crying subsisted and with his arms still around her, she found a tranquility that would prove to serve her well in the months ahead. She eased back from him and wordlessly held out a piece of paper. She just couldn't tell him herself.

She watched him as his eyes widened and filled with tears. He looked at her for reassurance, but found none. In an instant, their dreams and plans had gone out the window, but not their love for one another. Never that. She hadn't doubted that he would still love her, but she hurt for him and all that she would leave behind. She watched him pull his eyes back down to the paper as he reread the words that would be her death sentence. She already knew what it said as she had read it herself over and over again in the last two days. She argued with the doctors initially and then railed against fate. She prayed to the God of her childhood and finally made peace with herself and the illness that would end her life in a few short months.

Inoperable brain tumor was what the diagnosis had been. The doctors that she had seen were top notch. No one would have suspected that the mild headaches that had been plaguing her for months would turn into something so life altering. Since she hadn't known how to break the news to him, she had shut herself off from the world for a while until she was confident to face it again on her own terms. She had lived her life her way and she would pass out of this world her way.

Once again he reached for her. He reassured her in his support and devotion. As the days flew by with increasing speed, her health deteriorated. She did not wish to die in a hospital bed, nor would she allow death to take away her last moments of life. Instead, she played for as long as her body would let her. He was there with her the entire time, holding her up when she faltered. He supported her and stood by her side as they broke the news to their family and loved ones together. He was always there with her, even as her energy waned and she was forced into bed rest. There was a hospice nurse who came every day in the end, to watch her and give her the medication that she desperately needed to ease the pain. But he never left her side and he slept in the bed they had set up in his first floor office for her comfort and ease every night.

The last night of her life, they laid in the tiny bed listening to the beeps and hums of the machines. She had lost her ability to speak, but they didn't need words. They never had. He held her tight and lightly touched her hair with his fingertips. And as she took her last breath, he could swear that he felt her presence in the room.

The next few days were hell, spent making sure that her final wishes were followed through with. She was buried in her family cemetery next to a sister that had passed away during their youth. As the final mourners made their was through the rain and back to their cars, he stood staring at the casket in the ground. He knew that her spirit was no longer there. She had come to him in a dream the night before exacting from him the promise that he would celebrate her life and if he had to mourn her death, that he did so for as short a time as possible. As the clouds opened and the rain poured down, he felt it only fitting that the heavens weeped. Not at the loss of her body, but for thankfulness in the gaining of another angel.

He took one last look at the hole in the ground. Finally, he picked up a black-eyed susan, her favorite flower and the flower of their home state, kissed it and tossed it on the top of the casket. She had shown him love and laughter and shared all the joys of life with him. He didn't know what he would do now that she was gone, but he knew that no one could ever take the place in his heart that would forever belong to her.