On the fear of dirty dishes (Or My New Relationship, Or Updates: Part II)

Happy 2016!

As I mentioned in my last post last year, in September 2015 I decided to re-enter the world try out dating again, which was huge, since I'd spent the latter part of 2014 and three quarters of 2015 literally googling Buddhist monasteries and thinking that I would never again so much as kiss another human being.

As it turned out, there are still good men still in the world. There were also a couple of other monsters, but the good thing was that I spotted them within approximately 2 hours of meeting them. One was a professional basketball player who legit drove a batmobile. I knew he was bad news, but I needed the see it through to the end to make sure my gut was right. It was right, and his final text to me was a flurry of "You don't know me!" and expletives. Problem is, I *did* know him. I married someone just like him. And I knew that I didn't deserve to be blown off for weeks on end. He didn't like that I called him on it. Another one had a girlfriend, and when I let him know that facebook had suggested I become friends with his ACTUAL facebook profile (the one in which his profile picture was him and a girl, and her picture was her and him), he called me crazy and blocked me, only to unblock me the next day and pretend like nothing ever happened, and, without any apology, tell me to "just get over it and stop being mad." No. Just no.

But aside from those couple of mega-duds, I had good experiences on my dates. And in November, I met a sweet, kind, funny, smart, handsome, all-around amazing man.

And I am terrified.

I had no idea how much fear I still had in me. Though my heart and mind have moved on, I'm still so scared, and the tiniest of things trigger me now. It really is a form of PTSD. The other day, I left a dish in the sink. My new guy washed it and commented on how nice it was to have a clean sink, and I immediately began to cry and apologize for leaving a dirty dish. What he didn't know, and what I didn't realize was triggering me until a bit later, was that my ex-husband constantly "joked" about how he was my servant (or some days, my "little bitch" or "little dog") any time he would do housework of any sort, even voluntarily. For Valentine's Day, my ex bought a card that was meant to be from a wife to a husband, and gave it to me, expressing what a great "husband" I was because he felt that I was the "man" since I was the one who worked and he was the "woman" since he was the one who stayed home all day cleaning. His machismo wouldn't let him accept that our gender roles were reversed (and, fact is, he could have gotten a job at any time but chose not to) so all he could do was "joke" about what a good man I was and was a subservient little housewife he was. I felt terrible about it, and tried to reassure him that I loved him whether he was working or not and whether he did chores or not while I was at work, and I was happy to do chores once I got home. Of course, I realize now that it was all part of his manipulation and mind games, and that he felt emasculated if he wasn't "winning" and the ultimate alpha-male in every situation. Nothing I did or didn't do could have helped. It's just how his brain was wired, and he got off on the subtle put-down of it all.

Point is, I am struggling with being with a man who loves me and actually wants to spend time with me, and who doesn't put me down. For the past three years, I got used to apologizing for absolutely everything. My ex constantly reminded me of how "overly sensitive" I was, and how "clumsy" [or insert other veiled put-down here] I was. So when I accidentally poked my boyfriend as I rolled over in bed, I began to tear up and say "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to do that! I am so sorry!" and his response was "It's ok babe, it was an accident! I know you didn't mean to! You don't have to apologize like that." Which only made me cry harder. I am so jumpy from my last relationship, where the tiniest of accidents were ARMAGEDDON and elicited shouts of "YOU ARE SO CLUMSY! WATCH WHAT YOU ARE DOING! MY GOD, YOU COULD HAVE REALLY HURT ME!" that a simple "It's ok babe, it was an accident!" moves me immeasurably.

Accepting love is hard, as it turns out, when you're not used to being truly loved unconditionally.

I had become so accustomed to the pattern of me doing something "wrong" and then working hard to win my ex's love back that I don't how how to handle being loved and appreciated for who I am, the way I am, doing nothing to "deserve" it (even when I "mess up"). But I know now that that's actually how healthy relationships are, and though I've always given that kind of unconditional love, I've not felt it in return, and have to just allow it to be. Helping one another, without keeping score and without condition, is what healthy, normal people do when they love each other.

There's also this persistent fear that at any moment, the other shoe will drop and I'll find out that my boyfriend is not, in fact, the wonderful man that I think he is (and that my friends and family think he is), but instead, a terrible person concealing horrible secrets and living a double life. If I was so wrong about my ex-husband, and so blind to what everyone else could clearly see, how do I know that I'm not wrong again this time? I've been having recurring nightmares where my boyfriend tells me he's actually married, or that he's cheating on me. I feel sometimes that I'm just waiting for the bomb to drop and for my life to shatter again. But I really don't think it will this time. I have guards up where I never had them before, but still, I think that he is actually who he says he is, and that what I see is what I get. I know that I have learned to trust my gut, and I'm looking for EVERY possible red flag, and not finding any. I keep telling myself that I saw it in the others I dated before him, and I called them out and got rid of them, and I know that if I need to I can do that again. But I don't think I'm going to need to. I truly think that I learned my lessons and learned how to spot the badness before I commit to a life with it. I think he's genuine (and just to be safe, I've introduced him to all of my friends and family, and they have all approved whole-heartedly--which couldn't be more different from my last situation).

Undoubtedly, there will be more meltdowns, and more of me crying just because my boyfriend hugs me when I need it instead of telling me to "get over it" or "stop crying", or when he does a chore without my asking and without holding it against me. But I know that I'm healing, and I'm becoming more and more comfortable with being in a healthy relationship, and I believe I've found someone who is willing to be my soft spot for me to fall and a safe place for me to continue to heal from what came before him.

PS - You may be wondering if my ex has signed the divorce papers yet? Hahahaha, no. Why would he sign the papers in which I ask him for nothing and am legally stating, for the record that he "did nothing wrong" as I filed for no-fault divorce? Because he isn't in control of the situation. He continues to try to manipulate and in December, sent his best friend as well as the other woman to tell me how much he loves me and misses me and wants another chance, even going so far as to have his friend try to convinced me that he "never cheated" and "wouldn't do that." I let them both know that another chance was never going to happen, as I'd already given him unlimited chances in the three years we were together before I filed for divorce. I sent him a text asking him if he was ready to sign the papers my lawyer sent him, and he didn't respond. The saga continues...but I have moved on, and will continue to do so.

PPS - A huge shout-out and thanks to truelovescam.com for the repost of a couple of my blogs, and welcome to any new readers who found me through there! In TrueLoveScam's words:

"We are awesome, amazing, loyal, smart, magnanimous women – that is why the predatory sociopath selected us to cast his spell upon. He needed our power to do his bidding. Our admirable humanistic traits and deep values are what allowed us to see behind the mask. It is us ourselves who will set us free. We’re supportive and forgiving, we hold humanity in high regard – some of the best of the best are the prey of sociopaths. Celebrate how wonderful we are. There is a way out of the labyrinth of hell. It is you. It is our inner beauty, strength, kindness and compassion… shine them on ourselves. Embrace your life. You are awesome."

I'm somewhat more ok... (or, Updates Part I)

It's been awhile since I've written. That was partly a conscious choice. I needed a break from processing and sitting and wallowing in my thoughts and emotions. I purposefully made a choice to stop devoting so much of my time and energy to thinking about him. And that actually worked, for awhile. I've healed more in the last two months than I had expected to. But lately, stuff has been bubbling up again a bit, so I guess it's time that I sit down and deal with it.

September was a transformative month for me. My dog got well enough that I was able to take the trip to Sedona, AZ that I'd planned only a week or two ahead of time. My cousin came with me, and though it would have made more sense (and been much cheaper) for us to share a room, I told her that I needed my own room, because I fully expected to be crying essentially every moment I was there. But strangely, basically upon arrival, I felt a sense of calm and peace I hadn't felt in years. Granted, Sedona was (and still is) a Native American site of healing, and is well known in the metaphysical community for its vortexes. But even if a person doesn't believe in such woo-woo (or at least not as much as I do-do), it's not hard to understand why a place that looks like this could be restorative:

I went there with the intention of sitting quietly, allowing any thoughts and emotions I had to come up, and to try to meditate and fully let go of him and get back to myself. And I have to say, I was pretty successful. Even though I have a hard time meditating when I'm in  my apartment, or anywhere else, in general, I was able to go blank in Sedona. I literally sat on a rock, in the desert, and almost immediately my mind went white and I lost track of the fact that I was sitting on a rock in the desert (and really, really should have been wearing more sunscreen). I felt calm, peaceful and centered for the first time in years. 

Another big draw was the famous Sedona night sky. Sedona is a no-light zone, meaning that all streetlights and other man-made sources of light are legally required to be capped and pointed downward so that no light bleeds up into the atmosphere. What it produces is a night sky so dazzling that the milky way can be seen, clearly and brightly, with the naked eye. I've always been a huge fan of the night sky, and stargazing in general, so I was literally giddy with excitement when, on our first night there, I looked up to see this:

While I was there I discovered a new passion: night sky photography. Because, holy shit, when you have a sky like that, and the camera actually captures it--I couldn't sleep the first night because I was so excited that I'd actually been able to get the pictures I wanted. 

On our second day there, my cousin had arranged for us both to have a vortex tour and healing with a local Shaman. As into all things metaphysical as I am, I was skeptical, but I was so desperate to get myself back on track and heal and let go of my pain that I was willing to try anything. I was also skeptical because it was just the two of us, meeting this guy at his house in the middle of nowhere. As we pulled up to his (ok, gorgeous, so that was a good sign) house, I said to my cousin "Should we really be doing this?" She texted her husband to give him the name and address of  who we were meeting and where he lived, just in case this was a terrible mistake and we were about to be left for dead in the desert. I even backed out of the driveway and we drove around aimlessly for 10 minutes so that we could do a gut check to make sure that we weren't being two very silly little girls from the country. We decided that it was probably ok, and went back to his house. 

As it turned out, it was more than ok, and our tour guide/Shaman was the real deal. He was a kind, gentle spirit and he and I connected right away. He greeted us with a warm hug, and asked why we were there and what we wanted to get out of the day. I said that my heart had recently been shattered and I was going through a very tough divorce with the man who I thought was my twin flame, and I needed help in healing and letting go of him. The Shaman began to almost tear up and said he'd gone through something very similar a couple of years before, and that he thought he could help me. He gave me another hug, and I teared up, too.  

Before we got into his SUV, he had us each pick a rune (in this case, small stones with the rune symbols painted on them) out of a box, and whatever we picked would be the focus for our time together. He told us to keep our eyes closed and pick whichever one "felt" the best. I handed him my chosen rock, and as he looked at it and then showed me the corresponding chart, he announced that I'd chosen "Forgiveness." "SHUT UP! NO WAY!" I exclaimed, as I spun around and practically threw the stone back at him. I could tell it was going to be that kind of day. 

 Pictures from the rune explanation book.

I could go into so much detail about all of the things that happened that day, but suffice it to say that there was a lot of hiking, sage burning, singing bowls, crystals, and crying (on my part) involved. I hugged a sacred tree and literally felt its energy. I laid on a rock by a river as the Shaman put crystals on my chakras and chanted, and while he did that, I had a vivid vision of a rose, and within the rose, was a spiraling vortex, and behind the vortex and the rose was the starry night sky. I came home and immediately painted that vision:

It is of note that I hadn't painted prior to this in approximately 15 years. 

At the end of the 5 or 6 hours we spent together, my cousin and I were about to leave when the Shaman pulled me aside and asked if he could talk to me. I said "Sure."

"I don't know how to say this, but I got a message while we were at Bell Rock that I am supposed to ask you out. So...do you wanna go out with me?"

I stumbled for words. I realized the potentially questionable morality of the situation as soon as he started speaking, and all I could produce in response was a series of  embarassed "Uhhhhhs" and giggles while looking at my cousin, who was trying her hardest not to laugh at me. It also now made sense, and I knew I wasn't imagining that he had gently brushed my lips with his finger while he was waving sage over me at one point...once might have been an accident, but it happened, like, 3 times. 

Still, I am a person who will do many things if I think it will give me a good story to tell (which, when I think about it, was exactly my mindset and is precisely how I got myself into the pickle of marrying a psychopath, really,) yet I went with it. When a Shaman in Sedona asks one out, one has to see that story through. So I said "Um, I mean...I'd be happy to talk more with you, since we seem to have a similar situation in common...and if you have any advice, as a person who has been through it, I'd be happy to hear it." 

So we went to dinner the next night, at a sports bar. And he officially became my first date since I met my husband. Over buffalo chicken salad and margaritas, he told me that he just felt like I needed to get out and remember that there is still life in the world, and that I am a beautiful woman with value. He said that he wanted to talk more about my experiences with my husband, if I felt like sharing. And I shared, and cried (yes, in a sports bar), and he shared his experiences and what he's learned being on the other side of his discard, and it was a lovely conversation and connection, really. "You are going to meet someone around the end of this year who is going to want to be with you, and who would actually be great for you, but you're not going to be ready, and you're going to push him away. I did the same thing," he said. And I think he may be right...which I will go into detail with in my next post. 

At the end of dinner, we shared a long hug, he kissed me on the cheek, and we said that we would keep in touch. I texted him later to thank him for being a beautiful soul who reminded me that there are good men out there. He thanked me for my kind words, and said that he was really glad he didn't grab my ass on my way out, lest it ruin my opinion of him. Turns out that shamen (shamans?) are also human and have senses of humor. 

And that's the story of how the Shaman and Sedona, AZ gave me some of my mojo back. 

When I came home, I was sunburnt, but calmer than I'd been in a long time. I felt like I had really made progress in letting go of all of the pain and attachment I had to my husband. I started painting again (see above). I started playing piano and singing, just for fun. I ran, like, 4 weekends in a row (and if you know me, you'd know that traditionally I only run if I'm trying to catch a bus). I started feeling really, legitimately GOOD. 

And then in late September I started attempting to date...