Imperfection is perfect...

My life wasn't supposed to turn out this way.  I wasn't supposed to be a teacher.  I wasn't supposed to be a single mom, 32, living in an apartment, and working at a job that frustrates me to point of tears over and over again.  I wasn't supposed to be overweight and I wasn't supposed to be broke 99% of the time.

What was I supposed to have?

Well, I supposed to have a husband who loved and adored me and I him.  I was supposed to have 3 kids and live in a 4 bedroom, two bathroom, two-car garage house on some acreage in the country.  I was supposed to be doing some amazing job in which I was influencing others and making a difference.  I was supposed to be one of those really pretty, skinny, blonde moms with great style with pretty jewelry and big, flashy purses.  I was supposed to making money to where I could buy anything I wanted at any time.  I was supposed to be perfect...

As I sit here and feel sorry for myself and write this I realize that I do have what I'm supposed to have...just in different form.  My new, favorite all-time movie is Under the Tuscan Sun.  (I highly recommend it for anyone--especially women going through a tough time.)  In this movie, Diane Lane (who by the way is a wonderful and beautiful actress) is blind-sided by a divorce and decides to go on trip to Italy.  While there she finds this beautiful house and right then and there buys it with all that she has left, never to return to live in America.  She ends up spending the next few months renovating the house and, really, renovating herself.  At one point in the movie she is crying about her life and she says "I want a wedding in this house and a family in this house."  And (without spoiling the ending too much) she gets exactly what wants.  Just not in the way she thought she wanted it.

I DO have what I'm supposed to have.  Just not in the way I wanted it.  I have a family.  Yea, its not 3 kids (yet) but I have 1 beautiful daughter, 3 1/2 (one is still cooking in the womb) nieces and nephews, 1 semi-stepson, and 9 8th graders.  I have a home.  Yea, its not a 4 bedroom house, but its a family-oriented apartment complex with two pools and a playground, 3 bedrooms and enough room to hold everything I want.  I have a career. Many Americans can't say that.  I have the most influential job known to man--I'm a teacher.  Yea, its thankless most of the time and I cry a lot, but I know my kids love me and respect me.  I know I'm making a difference, even if it is small.  I have my health.  Yea, I'm not super skinny but I have no major health issues and I'm capable of losing weight.  I have clothes.  Yea, I'm not super stylish, but I have plenty of clothes to wear and I've learned my style is all my own.  I feel comfortable and most of the time, beautiful.    I make money.  I can put food on my table and pay my bills (for the most part).

So in the words of Frances (Diane Lane): "You're right...I got my wish.  I got everything I asked for."

Decisions, decisions....

I hate big decisions.  I hate big decisions because I will never know how my other choice would have ended.   We always say "Oh, I should have done _________."  But would have doing the other thing really been better? 

I think it is so funny when I tell women about my breakup.  They say things like
"Oh if it were me I would have just up and left!" or
"Hell no! I wouldn't stand for it.  I would even talk to him again." or
 "I don't think I could ever be nice to him.  He would never see the kids again!"
or my favorite: "Why would you ever even consider getting back together with him?  I would never even consider it!"
I would like to see those women actually do what they claim. I used to be one of them.

It is not that easy.  It is not that easy to give up your relationship, your family, your friend, your partner, and your life.  It is not easy to make the decision to say enough is enough and I'm done.  It is hard to not go back to what is comfortable and easy and go on living your life the way it was before.  I'm not going to lie...sometimes I wish things were back to "normal".  Sometimes I wish I could go back to July 24th and just stay there.  I wish I could stay on the couch with my sister making wedding plans.  That is the last time my life made sense.  It is the last time I can remember that I wasn't on an emotional roller coaster that I seem to be taking out on my loved ones, especially Kamry.  It was the last time I can remember feeling truly 100% happy. 

I know Peter and I had a lot of issues.  But to tell you the truth, up until those last 3 months of our relationship, I was happy.  I had friends, family, and a future.  I knew what to expect and I had a routine.  We were doing more and more things a family typically does like paying off the bills to be able to make bigger purchases, planning vacations, and community involvement. It felt good.  I felt good.  

I'm guessing its not easy to chose the other side of the decision and decided to stay and work on your relationship either.  I'm guessing it has to be hard to stay in a relationship where you have been betrayed. It must be hard to have to look at them every day.  It has to be hard to wonder if they are where they say they are when they are not with you.  I know for sure I don't want that feeling.  I don't want a relationship without trust.

No, I guess I will never know the other side of my decisions.  I will never know what would have happened if I chose a college here in Texas instead of Iowa.  I will never know what would have happened if I went to medical school instead of a teaching college.  I will never know what would have happened if I never met Peter and had my beautiful daughter.  I'm OK with it though.  I realize that every decision I have made was meant to put me exactly where I am today because my life is God's plan.

However, I think every once in a while He forgets his planner.

Random Acts of Kindness

Today I had something really awesome happen to me.  (For those of you who have my Facebook sorry to repeat the story.)

I stopped at my regular convenient store to buy my morning Coke Zero.  The line was several people long and there was an older gentleman in front of me.  He was wearing a brown checkered shirt and I believe he had on a green baseball cap.  His phone rang and as he stepped aside to answer it he told me "Go ahead." 
I said "Oh, thank you!" and stepped forward.  The store has just put up a display of Beanie Babies and I got distracted by them.  (I was picking out which ones would be good for my family members and thinking I would have to bring some money to buy them.)
I heard the store clerk say "Next!" and I started to step forward.  The green cap gentleman had walked around behind me and stepped up.  I just shrugged and went back to looking at the Beanie Babies while I waited my turn.  I heard him having a conversation with the woman behind the counter but I wasn't paying much attention.  He paid and left.  I stepped up and put my drink down. 
The woman said "You weren't with him?" 
"No." 
"Oh!  He paid for your drink!" she exclaimed.
I was stunned.  "What? Seriously? What do you mean?" 
"Yes, he pointed to you and himself and said 'I got two' and paid for both." she said as she put her hands up to her mouth. All I could do was look at her and then look out the door.  I wasn't sure what to do.  Do I run after him and thank him?  Obviously he wanted to do it anonymously or he wouldn't have walked out so fast. Do I try to pay anyway?  It was a very confusing moment.  I stood there dumbfounded. 
Then I smiled and said "Really?  Wow!  Thanks!"  (Which then I felt stupid because why was I thanking her?) 
She smiled and said "How nice!"
"I know!"  I replied and headed out the door to try to catch him and thank him.  By the time I got outside he was no where to be found.  I didn't even see him drive off.  It was like he disappeared.

I know it was God.  I mean, I know it wasn't actually God standing there wearing a brown checkered shirt and a green baseball cap talking his cell phone (or was it?).  But it was God working through this gentleman even if it was as small as just buying me a soda.  I have always heard of random acts of kindness. This was the first one to happen to me.  That man will never fully know the difference he made in my day.  He will never know how all the stress I woke up with this morning vanished in that moment.  He will never know I couldn't stop smiling the rest of the day.  He will never know that I will never forget him.

People, including myself, are so quick to be negative.  We are fast to complain, point out all the bad, and say there is no goodness left in this world.  We see the news and can't help but wonder if there is ANYTHING good left on Earth.  Then we get experience and share little glimpses of goodness.  We get true random acts of kindness that, for a moment take our breath away but, for a lifetime sustain our faith.

Remember there's no such thing as a small act of kindness.  Every act creates a ripple with no logical end. --Scott Adams

Because Nice Matters

I don't believe nice guys finish last because nice guys always seem to end up the happiest.  How many times have you heard someone say at a funeral "Oh he was the meanest person and so ugly to others, but he had a good life."?

Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you." Ephesians 4:31-32

I've been told all my life that I'm nice.  I've been told that I'm the nicest person you will ever meet.  I very rarely have people who don't like me (at least that I know of) and it really bothers me when I know someone doesn't.  I know I should have that "I don't care what people think about me" attitude, but I don't.  I am always thinking of what can I do to help someone, or make life easier, or be a person that other people like.  I hate confrontation and don't see a need for it unless its absolutely necessary. 

I've also been told on several occasions that I'm too nice.  I've been told that I need to change who I am so I stop getting hurt.  I need to be meaner, tougher, and more bitchy.  People would tell me "Why are you so nice?  Don't be so nice!  You need to be a B--".  For awhile I thought maybe these people were right.  Maybe I needed to start being one of those mean, crazy girls who treat their man and others like @$*#.  Maybe I need to start adding more drama to my life so others don't take advantage.  And for a short time I was seriously considering a change.  But then I went to a store with my dad and found a sign that summed it all up for me: "Because Nice Matters."

I believe being nice matters.  Today I think it is hard to find truly nice people.  It is rare.  I see my niceness as a strength.  I see that being nice means I am actually stronger than people who are what I call "abrasive". I do not have to hide my feelings behind a personality that shows I'm a "tough guy".  I have no problem being vulnerable.

People ask why I am so nice to Peter after all he has done to hurt me.  And here is the reason: I see no need to be mean.  What's done is done.  We are over.  I do not see how having a lot of drama between the two of us is going to make a good life for Kamry.  I am always thinking of the future and I know Peter.  If I am nice to him, he will be nice to me.  I want to get along with Peter especially after I have seen what Josiah has gone through.  I have seen what parents who are not nice to each other does to a child. It is the last thing I want for my daughter.  I do not want her to cry every time she sees her dad.  I do not want her to not want to be with him.  Research has shown how important a dad is to a child's well-being and self-esteem.  Kamry and Peter have a wonderful relationship.  I would never want to jeopardize my daughter's psychological well-being for my selfish satisfactions.

I refuse to change who I am for someone else.  I refuse to give up being nice to others even if it means I suffer from others' meanness.  I do not believe that I have to be a bitch to have a man love me. I believe the man who truly loves me will love the fact that I am so nice.  He will not see it as way to control or manipulate me, but as a strength I have.  I refuse to stop being nice because I believe nice matters.

Only give up on math

I've been feeling kind of like a Negative Nancy the week.  I know I have been writing about loving myself, being on the way to better things, and being truly happy, but these last few days have been havoc on my soul.  Why you ask?  No reason at all.  Just the way I've been feeling.

When I started writing this blog it made me feel so much better to share my story.  Spring break was a miracle week because I felt the true power of positive thinking and of God.  And then I went back to work.

I noticed on Wednesday of my week back at work that the rush of uncontrollable crying, nausea, and general depressed feeling was back.  The only thing I can think of is that I am not happy with work.  I am not happy with what I do.  Problem is I don't know what I want to do.  I started thinking back to the time in my life that I was really, truly happy.  I know all of you will laugh at this but it was high school.  What?! High school?!  Everybody hated high school right?  Not me.  I had so much fun and I was so happy!  Then, after talking to a friend, I began to get a little scared--did this mean I was one of those girls that peaked in high school?  Oh God, please not!

But no, I don't think that is it either.  What was it?  I began to reminisce.  In high school I volunteered.  I was extremely active in my church.  I was involved with many activities that included my friends.  I belonged to groups.  I was an athlete where I worked out about 2 1/2 hours a day on average.  I went to movies and dances on the weekends.  I went on vacations with my family.  Holidays were big celebrations with lots of decorations.  I loved who I was.

"What we do for ourselves dies with us--what we do for others remains and is immortal." Albert Pike

I do none of that now.  I don't volunteer.  I go to church but just on Sundays.  I have no groups I belong to.  I have friends who I have fun with, but we all have our own lives so spending daily time together is not possible.  I don't work out.  I don't go to movies very often.  I've been made fun of so much about my dancing that I refuse to do it anymore.  I've skipped out on the family vacations over the last 10 years.  I still spend holidays with my family which I will never quit doing.

After realizing that I do none of the things that make me happy it was kind of like an "Oh duh" moment.  In a town the size of San Marcos it gets a little intimidating to get involved, especially since the locals already have such strong bonds with one another.  Also, with it being a college town most people come and go.  While I never want to leave the Catholic faith, I do feel I need to find a new Catholic church.  Mine feels a little too disorganized for my taste. I have been seeing more movies lately.  I hope to find someone who would like to go to dances and maybe even not make fun of me while I'm there.  I have a vacation planned with my family that, even if I have to sell everything I own, I am going.  (Not really--I have been putting money away.) I just need to find where I want to volunteer, particularly somewhere I can take Kamry with me so I don't have to get a baby sitter.  I read taking kids with you to volunteer is a great way to teach them compassion and giving.

"Remember that the happiest people are not the ones getting more, but the ones giving more." H. Jackson Brown Jr.

How do you love yourself again?  How do you become that happy-go-lucky person who's faith and trust are so strong that even the worst news can't shake?  I have no idea.  However, unless its a math problem, I've never been one to give up if I don't know the answer...

 

Double Woman

This blog is probably my most sensitive blog yet.  I've been avoiding writing it because its going to force me to really put myself out there.  I chose to use the term "Double Woman" in my title because I am overweight.

I am overweight.  There.  I said it. Whew!

I know what you may be thinking...Rhea, you are just now figuring out you are overweight?  But you have been overweight for years!  I've known I'm overweight.  I've never admitted to myself that I'm overweight.

I avoid mirrors and pictures that show below the shoulder area.  I've trained myself to avoid looking at my whole self in the mirror--I only look at my face.  I do not go down the mirror isle at Hobby Lobby, or Walmart or anywhere else.  I don't look at my reflection in store doors.  I stretch my neck in pictures so you can't see my double chin.  I sit with something on my stomach (like a pillow, or jacket, or Kamry) so that my rolls are hidden.  I avoid clothing that is too tight or too loose.  (Both make a big person look bigger.)  It took me years to buy skinny jeans and I still have issues wearing them.  Unfortunately sometimes they are all I have clean to wear.  The girl in the mirror and the girl I remember from the past, the one I see in my head, are two different people.



Me in 1999 starting college

I've tried diets.  I've tried Weight Watchers, South Beach, a trainer, pills from the doctor, over-the-counter diet pills, diet and calorie counting apps, and just plain old eating less and exercise.  None have worked.  Usually I can drop about 15 pounds and then it stops.  Well....maybe I stop.  But since June, when I really started trying again, I haven't lost more than 8 pounds.  Do you know what it feels like to work hard, with a trainer mind you, for 2 months and drop 2 pounds?  That's it. 2 pounds.  Even he was stumped.  So I went to the doctor and there are some medical issues (nothing major) that make losing weight an extremely hard challenge for me. (That made me feel a little better.)
I started to think about what was really going on.  I know I have these medical issues but I think my inability to lose weight goes deeper than that.  I know its me.  My weight is my defense mechanism.  This is my irrational thinking that I rationalize with:

I can blame the fact that I'm not married on the fact that I'm fat.  If I lose weight and become skinny and can't find someone to love me then that means there is something wrong with ME.    

Do you know how embarrassing that is to admit?  Do you know what its like walking around with those kinds of thoughts running through your brain constantly?  I've been cheated on in every relationship I've had.  I've been depressed and overweight in every relationship I've had.  They cheated on me because I'm fat right?  At least I hope that is why.  I don't want it to be because there is something wrong with who I am.  I don't want to face the fact that its because I am not good enough.

I AM GOOD ENOUGH.  I know that now.  OK, truthfully some days I know that and other days I'm back to my old way of thinking--that I am unloveable. 

I have noticed that my body is changing.  I've measured and weighed.  No significant loss in either category.  However, my body starting to get its hour glass shape back in my waist.  I'd like to think its because I'm beginning to value myself again. I'm shedding some of the burden I carry with me.  Instead of "weight being lifted off my shoulders" I think its being lifted off my waist. 

I think when overweight people start putting themselves down in front of others, instead of saying "Oh your not fat" (because we know you are lying) or "Your beautiful the way you are" (because we will never feel that way) people should say something to the effect of "You are worth more than you let yourself be."  Overweight people are not overweight because they are gluttons; many, many times people are overweight because of some deeper issue that no one else understands.

And, for goodness sakes skinny people, stop telling overweight people things such as "If you just exercise for 30 minutes a day" or "Just eat less" or (the worst) "I'm so fat" while you stand there in your size 6 skinny jeans and small/medium shirt.   Thats just asking for a slap in the face.  Which sometimes I wish was legal to do. 

 

 

My mistakes...

I want to make very clear that this is not a blog meant to bash Peter.  It is not meant to be one of those "all men are pigs" kinds of things.  This is a blog meant to allow my thoughts, feelings, and journey be shared with others.  It is a healing tool, not a destroying machine. 

This blog is not always going to be pretty.  The truth is not always pretty. Of course I'm going to put in little comments here and there about/to Peter that may not be very nice. But you can ask him--I say not-so-nice things straight to his face. I know if he ever reads this there are parts he is not going to like. Thats just too bad. I will make sure to share my mistakes too.

I do blame Peter for his choices.  He could have and should have made better choices.  He had many chances to get over his fear of sharing his emotions and just be honest with me. Our relationship ending the way it did was his fault.  Our relationship falling apart was both of our faults.  I do not completely blame Peter for our relationship.  This is hard for me to admit because I'm never wrong (wink, wink) but here are things I did wrong:

1) I didn't listen to Peter.  Right after I had Kamry I was sure Peter was going to propose. (It took him a year and month after her birth.)  I thought it would be a nice surprise and he knew how badly I wanted to get married.  I just didn't know how badly he didn't want to get married.  Peter said many, many times over the course of our relationship that he didn't want to get married.  He would say things like "I don't ever see myself as married."  "I don't want to get married." "I like things the way they are.  Why do we have to change if its working?"  I just dismissed these statements as him trying to get under my skin.  Sometimes they would make me cry and then he would say he was just kidding or he didn't really mean it.  But I think he just did that to make me feel better.  He really was trying to tell me his feelings but I wouldn't listen.  What woman wants to hear "I don't want to get married."?  It became obvious to me after we postponed the wedding but couldn't decide on a date that it was never really going to happen.  It was then I started to listen and I was sad.

2) I gave most of the power to Peter.  Then I would get mad about it.  I don't mean he "ruled" over me.  I mean, I hardly made any decisions.  He would ask things as simple as "Where do you want to eat?" and I wouldn't pick.  I was so worried about picking a place he didn't like that my answer would most of the time would be "Wherever you want."  Many times where he picked I didn't want to go. ( But, hey, I'm a people-pleaser and I want to make sure I make everyone else happy.)    Then I would just fume inside about how it was always what he wanted.  I would yell in our fights.  "Its always your way!"...but of course its always going to be his way when I don't stand up for what I want.

3) I ignored the warning signs.  The last two months of our relationship I began to pray really, really hard.  This was my prayer: "Lord, if Peter is cheating on me let me find out now with evidence so I can get out of this."  Now how sad of a prayer is that?  That tells me that deep in my heart I knew. Over the years of our relationships there were other text messages and strange amounts of time Peter would be "missing", but never anything concret.  I knew and I chose to ignore.  I am grateful God answered that prayer though.

Peter and I have a good relationship now.  I can actually be in the same room with him now and not want to punch him in the face.  We are friends and we do what we both feel is best for Kamry. I think we get along better now than we ever did during our relationship. Oh, we still fight, mostly over holidays.  After we fight we usually come to an agreement we can both live with.  I once read a quote that said something like "If a couple remains friends after they break up it means they were never really in love or they still are."  I believe Peter and I were never really "in love".  We loved and cared for each other, but we weren't in love. 

There is a difference between being in love and love.   I am now going to practice what I preach--I have to be in love with myself before I can be in love with anyone.  I can't wait to fall completely, hopelessly, and wonderfully in love with myself.