musingsofrebirth

[musingsofrebirth]

How do I get my mojo back?

 used to thrive on being a sexual person, enjoyed attention I got from men in general, and I often felt quite sexy even outside of the context of sex.

And now I just feel so...reserved. I hate how much my self-esteem has taken a hit and no matter how much I work on myself, it just doesn’t feel like it’s enough.  I used to love that sexual power and dominance I used to have. Feeling like I could mesmerize someone and being able to do things to them to the point where they’re like “oh my bod, what are you doing to me?” But I guess I can’t be all that amazing if I lost out to someone else. So I feel like I’ve fallen from grace somehow. 

How do I get that feeling back? That feeling that I’m hot and sexy and can blow someone away? I feel like I’ve lost a big part of myself. 

[musingsofrebirth]

How Do I Unhear It?

No matter how hard I try, how thin I get, how strong I get, I can’t feel proud of it. Because he was right. I’ll never look like Cassidy. I’ll never be tall, waify, and super thin. I’ll never be his dream girl. 

[musingsofrebirth]

The Greatest Hits of Insults

The term I've seen for this on Reddit is called "mind movies." Long after things have been good, hell, even after a good day, the mind movies creep back, just playing in your head like an old film projector reel over and over again.

There's usually a specific theme to them, or a perspective that's a little different than before. A different detail gets obsessed over so it's never quite exactly the same.

Sometimes the focus is on the cheating itself, sometimes it's the lying, sometimes it's the associated anguish and mental issues we both endured, and occasionally it's just a broken record of the hurtful words. The words I kept fighting through for a year, determined not to let them get me down.

Ironically, those words affect my self-esteem and confidence more now than it did in the moment, maybe because I was fighting so hard back then and caught up in the chaos. Maybe because I refused to believe them because they felt incredulous in the moment. But man, it fucking sucks that I have as good of a memory as I do. The fact that I can recall as much as I can is staggering.

I feel like all the words are etched in my brain. They are no longer even in the context of where and when they were said, but just have become a collective of words, scrolling on a page, in my husband's voice, just booming in my head. Some nights, it's just so loud that I'm begging for a relief of silence.

I guess the good thing is, that for many of these, while I remember the words, they don't affect me that much anymore. I can recall them and just feel, "eh, whatever, I know that's not true." But there are a few that have left me feeling quite broken. But mostly, they just keep me up and annoy me. I wish I could forget them.

Since journaling seems to be effective it minimizing the power of the thoughts, I'm going to go through the grueling task of writing down every single fucking insult I can recall. My hope is once they're on this page, they'll be freed from my mind. I will continue to make space in my head for all the new and wonderful loving words I receive now.

So a big fucking GOOD RIDDANCE to:

You will never be thin enough for my liking.

You're not my body type.

I deserve someone who is more my type.

But look at your arms, they're so big.

To be honest, your nipples are bigger than what I normally like.

One day we were doing it from behind, and ugh, your butt was so big it was hard to keep going.

I had to drink to find you attractive enough for sex.

Your face is nice, but that's about it.

I don't love you in that way.

I only love you as a friend.

I'm not sure I ever really loved you, it was the best I thought I could do at the time.

I'm not attracted to you.

I shouldn't have asked you to marry me.

We moved too fast in our relationship and I regret that now.

I want to travel and experience things, but not with you.

I've never felt love like this before, she makes me want to be a better person, more so than you ever have.

You never push me to be better, you're too complacent.

She makes me feel more alive than I do with you.

She's just so beautiful.

I deserve to be with someone who's not a downgrade from me.

I have more of a relationship with her than I do with you.

I feel like I'm cheating on her with you.

You're too short, I like that she's closer to my height.

You worked all the time and didn't pay enough attention to me.

I just went through the motions of loving you out of obligation.

You don't have your own friends or hobbies and I'm tired of doing everything with you.

You spent more time with your design friends than me.

We're too similar, we like too many of the same things.

You don't like sushi and she does.

I hate that you plan things all the time.

You're too passionate about things.

You like too many things and have too many interests.

The way you sometimes smelled turned me off.

You put too much burden on me to carry you emotionally.

I don't feel like I have a partner.

I did all the work in the relationship.

You can't give me the family that I want.

I'm so tired of you talking about your heritage.

I can't stand it when you talk about your sister.

I want to be with someone I'm not embarrassed to be around.

I worry that people feel sorry me that I settled for you.

I hate it when you sing along to songs.

I hate it when you dance around the house.

You're too cheery and uppity for me.

You laugh too much.

I want children, I just don't want them with you.

I can't imagine a happy ending with you.

I don't want to be with you anymore.

I want to experience other people.

I missed it on dating, I want to date lots of people.

I want to see what else is out there.

You should go have sex with other people.

I want to be single.

I want to live on my own, see what it's like to have roomates.

I don't want to be married.

I'm willing to risk having a life without you in it.

I don't see a future with you in it.

I love you, but I'm not in love with you.

[musingsofrebirth]

Sexuality Origins Part 3 - Validation

I've kissed a lot of boys. I would say if it were truly up to me, if I only had kissed who I wanted to kiss, it would be less than half.

So why did I kiss them? I think of lot of it was from a weird sense of obligation. If they were at the point where they wanted to kiss me, then I must have done something to lead them on, therefore it was my fault for being in this position, and I'm now obligated to reciprocate.

Isn't it crazy how girls feel like it's their fault and a result of their actions? Looking back now, I wish I had the wisdom and confidence to stand up for myself.

But sometimes, that feeling of being desired was so intoxicating, even if I didn't really have any feelings for the other person. They wanted me, they found me attractive, they pursued me - it felt great and getting that validation was addicting.

Unfortunately, later in my life, it contributed to unhealthy coping habits. My first serious relationship didn't turn out to be so great. I was constantly criticized and my sexual advances were rejected frequently.

Instead of having the maturity to have a discussion about it (I mean, I realize now how I REALLY didn't have a clue on how to navigate and discuss my feelings and work on the relationship), I would just stew in my hurt and feel spiteful. For every rejection I received, I would seek anyone outside of my relationship to give me the validation I was looking for.

And so I continued to kiss boys, and on a couple rare occasions, actually ended up cheating on my boyfriend all the way. I felt lonely, ugly, and undesired at home. Ripe to fall into the arms of anyone that would pay me a compliment.

It was always short lived, because I really wasn't interested in anyone else in the long run, and they had given me that temporary confidence booster I needed to keep on going in my day to day life.

The funny thing is, I never felt any remorse about it. There was an overall "I really shouldn't be doing this" feeling, but it was more because of societal's views on cheating, not because I thought I would hurt my boyfriend's feelings. In fact, I felt so jaded by how he felt about me, I was convinced that he really wouldn't care. I don't think I ever made any real effort to hide anything.

There were several time I scolded myself for feeling so callous. I thought, perhaps I was a monster. I convinced myself that sex was meaningless, not a big deal. I felt numb.

I still don't know why I stayed so long in a relationship where I had been miserable for years. At this point, 2 years had gone by without any intimacy. I figured he was cheating on me as well and I didn't really care.

The friendship was good, we got along as roomates, we had a circle of friends, and frankly, I didn't have anything else to compare it to, after all, I was only 19 when we first got together. Throughout all those years, he would tell me over and over that romance is a fairytale. That people weren't meant to combine their lives, but enjoy a few intersecting points, that there was no such thing as unconditional love.

I believed him. Eventually I lost my own sex drive, fell into a depression, made my life about my work and video games. Gave up.

That is, until I met the man that would become my husband.

[musingsofrebirth]

Sexuality Origins Part 2 - the Dreams

I’ve been plagued with frequent bad dreams since childhood and my first dreams related to sex were no exceptions. Yet, even though both of these dreams started as nightmares, they were my introduction to associating masturbation with sexual thoughts.

I watched Knight Rider growing up (who didn’t?!) so my first recurring nightmare took place inside the semi from the show. David Hasselhoff was tied down to a gurney, unable to escape. A women with very long nails spoke:

“Do you know Michael, what my nails are capable of?”

She stretched out her hand, touching a vase on the counter and it shattered into a million pieces. 

“Everything I touch with my finger nails shatters to pieces.”

She continues to demonstrate with a few more surrounding items and then approaches Michael Knight, who is screaming through this gag.

She points her finger, slowly moving towards his crotch, he tries to squirm and create as much distance as her hand as possible. The image in my dream zooms in, the entire frame is made up of his bulge coming through khaki pants, and her finger slowly approaching.

I always woke up before her nail ever made contact.

My second recurring sexual nightmare was even more graphic. I was the main character in this dream, but while I was only 11 or 12 in real life, I was older and fully developed in my dream.

I was down on my luck, desperately looking for a job. I wandered around the street and saw a sign on a tall wooden fence advertising a well paying job.

I push through the door of the fence where I see a dirt lot and many women performing what seems like manual labor. I spot a small office trailer and enter.

“Hello, I’m looking for a job?” 

The handsome and muscular man sitting behind the desk replies, “Yes, but this job will involve heavy manual labor, and once you start, you cannot leave the premises for a full week. If you disobey any rules, you will be punished. But at the end of the week, you will be paid well.”

Feeling desperate, I accept the job. 

I’m instructed to go into a dressing room to put on my work uniform. The man tells me I must take off all of my clothing and only wear what is provided in the dressing room.

I go in there to find shorts and a button shirt that is missing the top three buttons. Despite the rules I was given about taking off all my own clothing, I leave my undergarments on and go back out after changing into the clothing. 

“What did I tell you about the clothing? I still see you’re wearing your bra.”

I try to protest, to explain that if I didn’t, my cleavage would be visible. He angrily pointed back to the dressing room and repeated, “You wear only what is provided.”

I feel the tears forming, and tell myself this is only for a week. I put on the assigned uniform and head back outside. 

I’m assigned to break rocks with a pick axe and begin to work. As I lose myself in my work, a manager with a clipboard walks by and pinches my ass. I stand up quickly and say, “Excuse me!” to which the manager replies that I am no more than their slave and have to put up with whatever they do. I feel the tears forming again, but say nothing and get back to work.

A while later, a different manager walks by and not only touches my behind, but puts his hands between my legs and starts to rub me. I push him away and tell him to stop. He slaps me across the face and tells me I’m to go into the dressing room to change because I’ve misbehaved.

This time when I enter the dressing room, there are no clothes provided and I'm forced to strip naked. From there, the dream only gets worse and more perverted. After protests and screams, I'm taken to the middle of the square, tied down, blindfolded, and gang raped while the other workers look on.

I remember the very first time I had this dream, I was so scared because I didn't know where the concept had even come from. I had never seen any pornography, and other than what I had read in textbooks and learned in school, did not even have any real understanding of what sex was. My parents didn't even have any talk with me other than sex being something a wife and husband did (without any of the mechanical details).

I have absolutely no idea where non-consensual sex had come from, let alone the idea of public humiliation and voyeurism. I never experienced or witnessed any of these things in real life.

Yet, as horrified and scared I was to have that dream the first time, I found myself subsequently looking forward to them and masturbating to the same mental images that haunted me.

Before I had ever even held a boy's hand, my imagination had already conjured up complicated sexual themes I didn't understand.

[musingsofrebirth]

Sexuality Origins Part 1 - Vague Memories

As long as I can remember, I always thrived on being a sexual being. I really don't know where it came from. I actually suspect it came from an unhealthy place.

I have vague memories of telling my parents I was inappropriately touched by their business partner in the kitchen of their restaurant, but I really don't remember if anything happened.

There are other fleeting memories, like the feeling of discomfort when the school librarian ran her hand up and down my leg, placing her hand ever so close to my behind. But it was just subtle enough to make me wonder if I was imagining it in my head, yet still ingrained in my memory over 30 years later.

I exhibited other behaviors which in retrospect, seem disturbing. In third grade I was reprimanded during recess because I chased Justin Pecharka on the playground, pushed him down on the ground, and tried to kiss him. The school guard sent me back to the classroom, where I had to spend the remainder of recess with my head down on my desk.

In fourth grade, I had a crush on the school Principal, Mr. Sweeney, and made an attempt to get his attention by dropping my napkin as he walked by so he would pick it up to me as to allow me to gaze into his eyes. For as long as I can remember, I sought the attention of boys.

I had an even more secret disturbing game as a child. We would drive to Baltimore twice a week for church, which required going through the Holland Tunnel and paying the toll (years before FastPass existed and you dealt with a real person in the toll booth). I relied on my imagination to keep me entertained on these long car trips and conjured a fantasy where I was tied up by evil men who wanted to ravage me. As we would pass by the toll booth, I would lie very still, pretending to be bound and gagged, and use eye contact with the toll booth operator to telepathically yell for help. Other times, I would pretend to be asleep at the toll booth, because the evil men said they would rape me if I was caught calling for help. One thing to note however - at the time, the act of being "ravaged" and "raped" was limited to imagining being touched all over by hands and tongues, as I didnt know was sex was yet.

My sister caught my little sleeping act in the car and asked why I pretended to be asleep every time we drove by the booth. I lied and played it off as simply saying I wanted the toll booth operator to think that I was asleep because it was funny. My whole family thought this was cute and hilarious and encouraged this act for years to come "Evniki, we're coming up to a toll booth! Hurry! Pretend you're asleep!" They never knew the origin of this little play I put on.

I started masturbating when I was 9. I didn't associate mastubation with sex for at least 3-4 years after I started. All I knew was if I crossed and squeezed my legs really tight, I would get really hot, and then overwhelmed by this wonderful feeling surging through my body.

I masturbated everywhere. In the car on every road trip, in class, in church, in bed every night. Even though I didn't equate it to sex, I somehow still knew I should do this discreetly, so I was always very quiet and moved as little as possible. The leg squeezing evolved to grinding. I would grind every sink corner, bed corner, furniture corner, would straddle bathtubs, posts, pillows, books. I once orgasmed in church while in my seat by grinding my Bible up against my lap.

As I got a little older, I occasionally went overboard with the grinding, pushing hard enough against surfaces to cause bruises and cuts.

And yet, it wasn't until my first two reoccurring nightmares in my early teens that I finally associated masturbation with sex.

To be continued...

[musingsofrebirth]

The Double Standard

Surprisingly, my issue with my husband being away on business hasn’t been about trust, or a fear of growing apart in a few days time. Rather, a feeling of building resentment of the double standard when it comes to communication. 

I remember all those times where I had to travel for work, the grueling hours, being “on” and the intensity of working with large groups of people, only to then have my post-work social time also dominated by their company. 

It was difficult to stay in touch back home during those times because of the pressure and amount of work. Yet, I was punished for it. Punished for being too busy, punished for being neglectful, punished for not checking in enough. 

Each time I traveled, I tried to more and more - sneaking away in corners, slipping away from conversations, declining social invitations in order to make sure I continued my role as supportive wife despite having so much on my plate.

It was exhausting. 

And ironically, this time I’m the one left with more time on my hands, no company to help bide my time, and it’s perfectly natural for me to understand how the roles are reversed. And I am understanding about it, because I’ve been there.

But will he ever realize that how chaotic his schedule is now, is exactly what I had to go through, and yet I was still punished for it because I wasn’t making enough of an effort in the relationship for a few days out of the year?

I can’t help but think back to one of the biggest and most stressful moments of one my work trips. I was co-emcee for an event. I had prepared for months to be on stage, addressing a few hundred people, for two days straight. 

I was so nervous in preparation that I took improv classes to boost my confidence, I read everything there was on public speaking, I faced my biggest fears. 

And all that time, the one person who was supposed to be supporting me, the one person who was supposed to give me some space with some patience, grace, and understanding, used that time to go behind my back and scheme behind my back. Just waiting for the days that I would be gone. 

It just doesn’t seem fair. I tried so, so hard not to let work travel get in the way. I checked in constantly. And I was told it was never good enough. 

Yet, it’s no big deal when it’s the other way around. 

It shouldn’t have been a big deal for anyone, ever. 

But it’s not fair that I had to walk on eggshells. I guess it’s my fault for doing so. 

Hopefully things will be more balanced moving forward.

[musingsofrebirth]

Finding Forgiveness

I still struggle so much with the amount of hate and rage I feel for the AP. Rationally, I know and I've read all the advice that my focus should be on my husband, and our vows, and how this stranger owes me nothing. I am not disputing that at all.

But feelings are another story and they're just so fucking hard. I'm actually more mad at myself that I allow this person to take up so much of my head. I don't usually hold grudges, stories of revenge make uncomfortable, I'm a lover not a fighter. So the fact that I fantasize about her getting hit by a car on a fairly regular basis or otherwise wish her dead makes me feel ashamed.

During my meditation, the session was focused on the mantra, "May I be well, may I be safe, may I be at peace." The narrator then proposed the challenge of wishing the mantra on someone we may not care for. She pops into my head. And I just... couldn't.

I feel like this is holding me back from truly moving forward in my personal healing.

Maybe it's just a matter of a little more time but I'd like to get to a place where the AP no longer has a hold of me.

It feels like my husband has long forgotten her, tells me every day how lucky he is, and I'm so grateful for that and happy with him. Yet I'm the one still snooping online her family's social media accounts so I can see a glimpse of her just to fuel the rage.

It's sad, I feel sad for me. If my friend was telling me she did this, I would tell her to stop torturing herself. I hope to find the loving kindness within myself so I can forgive and move on.

[musingsofrebirth]

Handwritten Entry - Date Unknown

Found handwritten in a notebook. I remember doing this exercise as a way of documenting all my feelings during our difficult period, but don’t remember the exact date. Archiving for posterity. 

Today’s feelings

10:49 AM - Seeing your tenderness and love in how you react with Fiona makes me feel love towards you.

10:55 AM - Paranoid that you didn’t feel like I was paying enough attention when you was telling me about the books and dreams. Didn’t want to come across as overly excited because you would think I’m faking it, but I really was interested just wasn’t sure what level of enthusiasm I should show. 11:32 AM - I want to ask Jeremy how he’s feeling about us but I’m too scared. I’ll try to build up the courage to ask soon. 1:23 PM - Randomly wondered / hoped whether you still feel better about us.

4:08 PM - Feeling blue about how long it’s been since I’ve heard “I love you” but I know I have to be patient and continue working on being the best wife I can be. I’m terrified you will change your mind again. I just want to share my life with you so badly and I want to make sure I’m communicating that effectively.

5:15 PM - Random confused thought - so many months I thought this was about my failings as a wife, that I wasn’t good enough, thin enough, pretty enough, interesting enough. I’ve been trying to prove that I’m all those things. But none of that seemed to work until I was able to convince you how much I felt that my own life didn’t really have a purpose without you and that all this effort was to show you how much I really needed you in my life. Why did the change of perspective make such a difference?

Was it that my shortcoming made you feel like you weren’t needed or who I wanted to be with?

How does that work? From my perspective, I’ve always been with you because I desperately love you and want to give you the word. I love your every being. Did my failures make you feel like I didn’t feel those things for you?

6:12 PM - I hope you noticed I’ve been trying to be more girly and experiment more with makeup and looking pretty. I want to look better today, but I feel so poopy. I really hope you love me. Oh God, I hope you love me. I’m even willing to believe in God if it meant you loved me.

6:27 PM - I want to hug you but I don’t want you to feel smothered. But I really want to hug you.

6:49 PM - I makes me so happy to see you playing video games. I think that means you’re not as depressed? I know you’re  feeling better now that you’ve found a new job, but I do home that some of the better mood is because you’re feeling more relieved about us?

6:54 PM - I love your face.

6:56 PM - I love you so much. I feel so sad you lied to me. Don’t you know how much I love you? It always feels like I get punched in the gut when I think about the lies.

7:30 PM - I touched you and you seemed annoyed. :(

7:50 PM - I love you, why don’t you love me? :(

[musingsofrebirth]

I'm glad I didn't give up

I would consider this a bittersweet reflection, because although my experience drudged up some difficult memories, it feels like it's more of a reminder and appreciation of the strength and determination I found within myself.

Having Jeremy's dad visit has been surprisingly pleasant and not as awkward as I had expected. One thing he said, or rather asked, unfortunately took my mind to a time I really hate revisiting. During his trip, he's asked a few times if Jeremy's mom had also done some of the activities we were doing with him.

The thing is, while we had done some touristy things together, she hadn't been here for that reason. When I offered Jeremy's dad our bed and mentioned that mom had slept in the bed, he asked where I slept, to which I responded, "the couch." He innocently asked where Jeremy slept, likely and totally understandably not remembering the situation. I paused for a second and reminded him, "er, that's when we were separated."

It's a terrible reminder for me, because after a whole year of fighting for my marriage, fighting for love, and fighting to not lose my best friend, that was the first time where I started feeling true defeat. That perhaps this wasn't going to work out after all, that I had to face the reality of starting a new life alone.

I had told myself, by the end of that month, I would give up the fight. I was so tired, so hurt, I didn't want to cry any more. I felt I had aged 10 years and realized I was only torturing myself if I continued to prolong things any further. I was still confused, I felt I had failed as a wife, and I accepted my fate.

I was terrified of my first night alone after she left and it was truly as horrible as I feared. I continued to sleep on the couch because it was too painful to be in bed alone. To make things worse, I got a cold. So I'm alone, depressed, and now sick.

I had reached my limit and the last straw was finding out there were still lies. I remember thinking, that's it, I'm so done, this is the last ultimatum. I can't do this anymore.

What I wasn't expecting was for my last utterance to be met with, "I want to come back."

It hasn't been an easy road, but here we are, 7 months later and doing better than ever. For that, I'm so grateful, so in love, and have a new outlook on life. I feel stronger, older, a little wiser. I'm proud at what we both have been able to accomplish together. I truly feel like I have a partner, that we're part of a team.

I'm also proud of myself, and seeing how strong I could be, recognizing my limits, and knowing that I could face life alone if I had to.

Funny how such a small innocent question from Jeremy's dad could trigger such a long line of thought, and while reading this may take a few minutes, that entire thought process and all the emotions that go with it rushed through my head in a matter of seconds before.

I'm still on the fence as to whether this was a good reminder or not, so I'll push myself a little over the edge and go with good. Here's to strength, not giving up on who you love, and wonderful new beginnings.

[musingsofrebirth]

An Exercise in Reframing

A few days ago, I put myself in one of my mind loops again (why I torture myself like that, I really don't know).

This loop in particular revolved around numerous conversations in which my husband told me he only proposed to be because he settled for me. That I was the best he could at the time, so he might as well propose, because it was better than being alone.

I spent some time wallowing in my insecurity wondering if there was truth to that statement, especially since it was repeated to me more than once...or was it just one of the many things the string of thoughts meant to push me away and justify his (then) actions.

I felt sorry for myself, cried for a good 10 minutes, wondering why anyone would ever think that of me. I let those words beat me up, and for a few moments I believed them, that maybe I wasn't so great.

But I remembered my meditation recent meditation practice of asking myself if my thinking was useful. I decided well, no, not really. Thinking so negatively wasn't particularly useful and all I was accomplishing was making myself more miserable.

So I decided to turn it around and accept all the statements. Settling for me is a pretty darn good deal. If I'm the best someone can do, then that's pretty good! And being with me IS better than being alone.

Not because I'm hot shit or anything, but because I'm me, and being me is enough. As long as I keep trying my best, love with all my heart, work on being kind, and keep on working on self-improvement, then that's a pretty darn good version of getting the best you can.

Now the trick is to believe that about myself every day.

[musingsofrebirth]

I Don’t Like Who I’m Becoming

I would say this is one of those situations where he isn't even doing anything wrong. 

But the fact is, his affair was downright traumatizing. It destroyed me and any confidence I had. I feel so broken sometimes. 

I now feel so threatened by any experience my husband has without me. Any conversation he has with friends, colleagues, or even his siblings or parents - I feel really left out and jealous if I don't know what's going on. It's not that he doesn't purposely tell me, most of it is completely inconsequential and had it been before this situation, I really wouldn't have cared.

At some point, I feel like the tables will turn, that it will no longer be sympathy for me, but rather for him, because "oh my god, how is she not over it and and she's so controlling."

I recall all the stories he would tell me about his ex-wife and she sounded like such a terrible, controlling person. I’m scared about going down that same path. I don't want to be jealous, I don't want to be insecure, I don't want to be looking over my husband's shoulder every time he's texting his mom.

He should be able to have experiences apart from me and I from him, but I'm really struggling with this. 

I feel like any connection he might have with someone else takes away from ours.

When I bring this up with him, I don't know that he takes the healthiest approach - which is to immediately say "well, I just won't talk to them anymore" - because he's bending backwards to appease me and enabling how I feel. Also, that’s the opposite of what I want. I want to be a part of those other experiences, not for him not to have them, so it feels like an additional punishment.

Like, I would be more comforted by “Yes, I’ll share this with you.” as opposed to “well, I don’t want to give this to you, so I’ll deny it from myself as well.”

It doesn’t seem very fair. 

I really don't like this side of me and if I resort to keeping my husband in a social prison, it's only going to hurt us in the end.

[musingsofrebirth]

Trying to let go of bitterness

I still have a hard time letting go of bitter feelings and resentment. The good news is the feelings themselves are greatly softened and are easy to overcome with a little self-talk and reasoning. But I still get the knee-jerk reactions before having any opportunity to observe and regulate my emotions.

Funny enough, the triggers are usually positive comments and affection. I’ve been trying to figure out why that’s the case and am working through it by writing it out. I think I’ve gotten to the bottom of it, but still trying to articulate it. 

I think the crux of it is...the love, the affection, the words still feel conditional. 

Whereas I’m happy to be loved and appreciated, I can’t help but wonder that if I change in any way, or if I make a mistake, or if I’m going through something difficult, will that love be as free flowing as it is now?

And why would I question it? Because, I was put down so much for mistakes I made, for how I looked, for perceived situations that weren’t there.

- I am the same person now I was when I was heavier. - I always had the same amount of love for my husband as I do now. - I was always willing to go to the ends of the world for him, that’s not different. - I was always capable of making positive changes within myself. - I have the same beliefs, the same values, the same goals. - I have the same amount of love within me. 

And I guess the question is, why is that good enough now when it wasn’t then? At what point will who I am not be good enough? At what point will the amount of love I have in my heart not be good enough?

I still hear the hurtful words in my head:

- I deserve better - I deserve prettier - I deserve thinner - I shouldn’t have to settle

I was compared, put down, and humiliated. 

So when I hear how much I’m loved now, sometimes I just want to say - “Hey asshole, why didn’t you love me before? I’m the same person now I was then. My weight did not define me, my circumstances did not define me. Why couldn’t you see past that?”

And then I feel bad because that just feels too mean and I realize that none of this was about me to begin with, and I wallow in self-pity until I gain control of my thoughts and emotions.

But the fear is still there. That one day, without warning, my world will be turned completely upside down again and I’ll be left wondering what happened, why, trying to find what went wrong. 

I remind myself there are so, so many things in place now to prevent this from happening again. Better communication, better self-care, a much better marriage in general. And when I sit and think about it, and examine all the positive changes, absolutely - it’s better than it ever was and I’m thankful and happy, and the bad feelings do go away and I’m happy once again.

The challenge is getting to the point where the resentment and bitterness don’t flash through my head in the first place. While the process of focusing on the positive and appreciating what I have is truly great, I’m eager to get to a point where I don’t have to actively sit down and focus on that just to make negative thoughts subside.

But as with everything, I put my faith in time, consistency, and love. I’ll continue to work on myself, continue to show all the love I have to share, continue to rely on my own strength to continue to grow.

[musingsofrebirth]

Comparisons

An unexpected trigger today, and one I feel guilty about. I should know better than to compare myself to others. After all, we’re all on very different journeys, with different circumstances, different environments. It’s never fair to make a comparison because you never truly know if the outcomes could be the same.

Additionally, comparing yourself to others feels so selfish and entitling. It takes away from the joy you should feel when someone else accomplishes something, instead of making someone else’s good news about yourself.

Yet here we are, and that’s what I’ve done. I don’t feel proud of myself, but I’m writing it down as to get it out of my head.

In this particular case, it was seeing a Facebook post of my sister-in-law and brother-in-law happily celebrating their sixth wedding anniversary. Seeing a post about how quickly time flies when they spend it with their best friend.

Instead of being filled with joy, I’m instantly taken back to where I was during my sixth anniversary of my marriage. My best friend was cheating on me. He told me he didn’t love me. Nothing in that sixth year was going by fast at all. The sixth year of our marriage was the most excruciating, painful year of my life. It was a combination of a miracle and hard work that we came out of it at the seventh.

And that should be enough, because we’re stronger and better than ever before. I hate myself for still feeling so angry. I am truly happy with what I have now, but I’m still so angry. Seriously angry. 

After all, we were supposed to be better than everyone else. Our love was true love. We were best friends. We didn’t argue. We put each other first. We had a better relationship than anyone else around us. They didn’t know our secret - that we truly thought we were better than the other couples around us.

But we weren’t. Because here’s a couple, one that I love very much, who managed to do better than us at their six year point than we did at ours. That makes me feel less capable, and like a failure. 

The voices of reason try to remind me, as I’ve started off, that you simply can’t compare. There is no better. There is no worse. There just is. We are all given a set of challenges and it’s up to us how we decide it affects us. It’s up to us to accept the things around us, and to grow stronger from it. By the time I’m done writing this, I know I’ll feel better and realize that the only thing important is now. The only thing I should strive to make better is tomorrow. Ultimately, I’m content with this.

But for one fleeting moment, I indulge in a weak act of self-pity and just want to say, “Goddamnit, how did they manage to be better at this than us? It doesn’t feel fair.”

So I’ve said it, I watch the words float away without judgement, and I continue to work on a better today and tomorrow. 

[musingsofrebirth]

It’s complicated

Hard not to feel bummed when thinking about how badly you’ve been hurt...and you want to get mad and scream and yell. But then you realize you’re mad at a person that doesn’t exist anymore and the person before you is wonderful and loving and doesn’t deserve to get yelled at.

So I scream into the pillow instead. Poor pillow.

[musingsofrebirth]

Overcome

Meaning A.

To surmount, to prevail, to be victorious. 

As I held the beautiful card my husband gave me, with the message he wrote, I felt I had finally overcome the huge emotional mountain that had loomed over me for over a year. That all my effort and struggle to fight for what I believed in what all worth it. That this was the man, the love that I was fighting for, that I knew was there, the one I felt I deserved.

Meaning B. 

To overpower, to overwhelm with emotion.

And in that same moment, all of the pain and weariness of the fight was carried through my body, as I was overcome with the relief to the exhaustion and fight. As when the marathon runner crosses the finish line and cries with both the joy for accomplishment, accompanied by the pain it took to get there.

[musingsofrebirth]

The Positive Jeremy List

1. I feel loved every day.

2. I had one of the best birthdays ever and Jeremy reached out to all my friends to make the day extra special.

3. He was proud and excited to introduce me to his co-workers at happy hour.

4. He’s the most emotionally mature that I’ve known him.

5. All his positive changes make him really great to be around.

6. He feels like we’re in a great place.

7. I love the effort he’s making with his family and siblings.

8. He’s more confident and less insecure than he used to be.

9. I love that he works out with me.

10. We communicate better than we have before. 11. The fact that he’s a Big Brother is super sweet and downright sexy. Love that he’s being a role model.

12. He’s very thoughtful and patient with me.

13. He shows me affection regularly.

14. I feel more of a partner than I have before.

15. I love spending time with him.