"I wish I had a river I could skate away on.." -Joni Mitchell
Lately my blogs have been a little more optimistic, but I would not be honest with myself or my followers if I weren't to admit that every once in awhile, I have a bad day. I get lonely. I get tired of being strong. Days when hope seems like a fairytale and there's no amount of gin and tonic to help fill the bottomless void that is being single. Like all other relationships, working on your relationship with yourself is just as much work if not more. There is no one else to think about your needs, bring you chocolate ice cream when you had a bad day at work, brighten your bedside table with white cala lillies, or send you a sweet text in the middle of the day to let you know they're thinking about you. Deep down I know that this is what I need and that like a infant crying itself to sleep and learning to self soothe, I can learn to heal myself. I can learn to be at rest in my solitude. In her book, "On My Own," Florence Falk says, "Deep in our hearts we probably understand that aloneness is a natural part of life, but existential aloneness, the awareness that within us is a core self that no other human being, no matter how intimate, can ever touch, can be unsettling."
I also like the way that Elizabeth Cady Staton sums it up so perfectly: "Our inner being which we call ourself, no eye nor touch of man or angel has ever pierced."
We long to be truly seen for who and what we are, and I would like to think that I am selfless enough to be able to look into another man's soul and know him in the way that I would like to be understood. But I can't say that I am any more of an expert at that than anyone else. I carry my own baggage and battle wounds and most days when I look in the mirror, I see the eyes of a refugee gazing back at me. Beaten, bruised, and broken. Unlovable and uncherished.
But there is a time to fight for love and there is a time to listen to your heart's pleading to let go....la donna solo is Italian for "a woman alone." Although I've never been big on tattoos, I've always thought that I would get one when I found something that truly meant something to me and that I would want to have permanently sewn into my skin. When I look down at my body, I want to be able to see that these words are a part of me and that I am a part of them. No matter what my relationship status, marital status, life status, at the core I will always be a woman alone. And somehow I think I've always known that....
Friday, July 22, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Roots
"No matter how much women prefer to lean, to be protected and suppported, nor how much men desire to have them do so, they must make the voyage of life alone, and for safety in an emergency, they must know something of the laws of navigation. To guide our own craft, we must be captain, pilot, engineer; with chart and compass to stand at the wheel; to watch the wind and waves, and to know when to take in the sail, and to read the signs in the firmament over all."
-Elizabeth Cady Stanton's last address to Congress, 1892
It is Sunday morning and the house is quiet except for the hum of my computer and Pandora. It is times likes these when I do my best blogging. When I curl up in my chair with my cafe amaretto and think about my life. I have decided that I desperately want to travel. Up until this point, I had always thought my nomadic tendencies were the result of my upbringing (my parents moved at least 20 times by the time I was 14) and that when I continued this pattern as an adult, I was trying to run away from something going badly in my life. The funny thing about roots is that if you've never had them, you can't miss them. Living in Arizona for a year opened my eyes to how much of the world I was missing. This is perhaps where my ex-husband and I started to grow apart. Don't get me wrong, there will always be a special place for Paul in my heart since he was such a big part of my life for 5 years, but my traveling itch scared the bejesus out of him! He was a trooper and followed me to Arizona, but as much as I fell in love with the wildness of the desert, he was every bit as miserable.
I was suffocating knowing that someday when my nest was empty, I would be flying alone.
This last move to South Carolina did not turn out at all how I expected, but something inside me told me that this was enough for now. I may adapt quickly after years of practice, but I remember how hard it was for me when I was younger to make new friends, and I would like for my son to have some roots. Funny thing about roots is that even though you may not desire to have them, your parental instincts tell you that your children need them. So I have settled in Charleston, South Carolina for the time being, but my heart is still out there roaming around, dreaming of the places I will see someday.
My first stop: Italy.
I have always wanted to take a trip to Europe for as long as I can remember, but lately my itch has been more specific. It is not that you can't see beautiful things from here in the good old US of A, but my desire is more to see a different way of life. To see how other people in the world relate to one another and get by without all of the extravagant things that we so desperately "need." I want to watch how they eat, drink, sleep, love, fight, and struggle in hopes that it will give me a deeper understanding of myself. Maybe the reason I have not had a need for roots yet is because I haven't found my home yet. So to prepare, I bought myself an Italian dictionary and a "Learn Italian While You Drive" cd. Don't laugh..I have decided that since I spend 3/4 of my life driving, I might as well be learning something and enjoying myself! I have an hour commute to and from work every day. So far all I've learned is, "There is a car," "There is a small car," and "There is a big car." This may not get me very far, but I have also found a group in Charleston that meets once a week to practice their Italian at a local restauraunt. Perfect!
My baby steps toward finding myself gives me a little more confidence every day. I am no longer jobless..still husbandless, but my excitement over discovering these parts of myself overshadows any previous gloom I may have had on this subject. I am not desperate. I am not waiting for someone to rescue me. I am Woman--hear me roar.
-Elizabeth Cady Stanton's last address to Congress, 1892
It is Sunday morning and the house is quiet except for the hum of my computer and Pandora. It is times likes these when I do my best blogging. When I curl up in my chair with my cafe amaretto and think about my life. I have decided that I desperately want to travel. Up until this point, I had always thought my nomadic tendencies were the result of my upbringing (my parents moved at least 20 times by the time I was 14) and that when I continued this pattern as an adult, I was trying to run away from something going badly in my life. The funny thing about roots is that if you've never had them, you can't miss them. Living in Arizona for a year opened my eyes to how much of the world I was missing. This is perhaps where my ex-husband and I started to grow apart. Don't get me wrong, there will always be a special place for Paul in my heart since he was such a big part of my life for 5 years, but my traveling itch scared the bejesus out of him! He was a trooper and followed me to Arizona, but as much as I fell in love with the wildness of the desert, he was every bit as miserable.
I was suffocating knowing that someday when my nest was empty, I would be flying alone.
This last move to South Carolina did not turn out at all how I expected, but something inside me told me that this was enough for now. I may adapt quickly after years of practice, but I remember how hard it was for me when I was younger to make new friends, and I would like for my son to have some roots. Funny thing about roots is that even though you may not desire to have them, your parental instincts tell you that your children need them. So I have settled in Charleston, South Carolina for the time being, but my heart is still out there roaming around, dreaming of the places I will see someday.
My first stop: Italy.
I have always wanted to take a trip to Europe for as long as I can remember, but lately my itch has been more specific. It is not that you can't see beautiful things from here in the good old US of A, but my desire is more to see a different way of life. To see how other people in the world relate to one another and get by without all of the extravagant things that we so desperately "need." I want to watch how they eat, drink, sleep, love, fight, and struggle in hopes that it will give me a deeper understanding of myself. Maybe the reason I have not had a need for roots yet is because I haven't found my home yet. So to prepare, I bought myself an Italian dictionary and a "Learn Italian While You Drive" cd. Don't laugh..I have decided that since I spend 3/4 of my life driving, I might as well be learning something and enjoying myself! I have an hour commute to and from work every day. So far all I've learned is, "There is a car," "There is a small car," and "There is a big car." This may not get me very far, but I have also found a group in Charleston that meets once a week to practice their Italian at a local restauraunt. Perfect!
My baby steps toward finding myself gives me a little more confidence every day. I am no longer jobless..still husbandless, but my excitement over discovering these parts of myself overshadows any previous gloom I may have had on this subject. I am not desperate. I am not waiting for someone to rescue me. I am Woman--hear me roar.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Building a Home for One
"...Between Austria and Italy, there is a section of the Alps called the Semmering. It is an impossibly steep, very high part of the mountains. They built a train track over these Alps to connect Vienna and Venice. They built these tracks even before there was a train in existence that could make the trip. They built it because they knew some day, the train would come."
I like to start my day off with a quote because no matter what it is that I am feeling, the internet is an unlimited resource of quotes from people who have said it better than me. This quote is from one of my favorite movies Under the Tuscan Sun. (Although I have made progress concerning my other bad habits, chick flicks are still my weakness) As I have mentioned in the past, the idea of dating again (much less being married again) makes me nauseous. If you were to find me in a Webster dictionary today, it would read:
Carolyn Carreau:
Synonyms: bare, blank, devoid, empty, hollow, lacking, missing, unavailable, vacant, vacuous, wanting."
I have spent years investing myself into relationships where I was giving 150% of myself, and received very little in return, so itt only makes sense that I resemble the flaky, molten exoskeleton of a crab during puberty. Not a pretty sight and probably not a pleasant process for a crab! But there it is...
I have a habit of picking emotionally unavailable men who initially flatter my inflated Librae ego, by strutting around in front of me like a peacock trying to impress it's mate. Once I have strategically aligned my life goals and favorite TV shows with that of my peacock, that is usually about the time our relationship starts to look like one of those abandoned western towns with the tumbleweed rolling by. I begin to savor every drop of affection like water I will not see again for days.
When one finds oneself in negative patterns such as these, one must ask, "What can I change about my dating patterns so I will stop resembling molten crab shells?" The obvious answer would seem to be pick better peacocks..er..men. The problem with this logic is that the older I get, the harder it is to spot these clever masters of disguise. They become more interesting, suave, more handsome with age (one of the many upsides to being a man), and experienced. There is something about this experienced male that outshines the "nice guy." Take George Clooney for example. I am convinced after decades of watching this man date that he will be a bachelor for life. If a woman as exotic and beautiful as Elisabetta Canalis can't hold him down, where is the hope for the rest of us!
My sons father, my first love, is a lot like George Clooney. We have had a rocky on-again, off-again relationship over the past 8 years. Ironically, the older he gets the more he is starting to resemble George in looks and in his dating life. The man has enough charm to turn on a light bulb, simultaneously wooing and crippling his prey. He is the male version of myself, albeit better looking. No matter how serial his dating patterns appear, this only makes him more attractive to women. I will now join all single women around the world in a collective cry: "IT'S NOT FAIR!!!" It is a well known fact today that a man who dates around is experienced and interesting, and there is practically an entire dictionary of unsavoury labels for a woman who is just as picky. Perhaps this is why we feel pressured to hurry and make a decision in a relationship before we are labeled ourselves. I have to admit, I have participated in more than one discussion regarding females who date around and my opinion is often swayed by the general public. Until it hit me one day that instead of tearing one another down (lets face it, un-happy married women) we should all be rooting for each other and yelling, "YOU GO, GIRL!" Instead of, "Jeez...what a skank."
I will now step off of my soapbox and get to the point. The meaning behind the quote at the beginning of my blog is this: Don't wait around for a man to start your life or for the perfect family to come along. Build your house. Take care of the family you have around you even if you are not related by blood. Someday someone wonderful may happen to you, but if they don't, you will be a richer, more beautiful, evolved person who can accept this fact.
Eleanor Roosevelt said, "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."
Of all of the things out there we could be afraid of--why is dying single one of them?
I like to start my day off with a quote because no matter what it is that I am feeling, the internet is an unlimited resource of quotes from people who have said it better than me. This quote is from one of my favorite movies Under the Tuscan Sun. (Although I have made progress concerning my other bad habits, chick flicks are still my weakness) As I have mentioned in the past, the idea of dating again (much less being married again) makes me nauseous. If you were to find me in a Webster dictionary today, it would read:
Carolyn Carreau:
| Deficient in something needed or usual. |
Synonyms: bare, blank, devoid, empty, hollow, lacking, missing, unavailable, vacant, vacuous, wanting."
I have spent years investing myself into relationships where I was giving 150% of myself, and received very little in return, so itt only makes sense that I resemble the flaky, molten exoskeleton of a crab during puberty. Not a pretty sight and probably not a pleasant process for a crab! But there it is...
I have a habit of picking emotionally unavailable men who initially flatter my inflated Librae ego, by strutting around in front of me like a peacock trying to impress it's mate. Once I have strategically aligned my life goals and favorite TV shows with that of my peacock, that is usually about the time our relationship starts to look like one of those abandoned western towns with the tumbleweed rolling by. I begin to savor every drop of affection like water I will not see again for days.
When one finds oneself in negative patterns such as these, one must ask, "What can I change about my dating patterns so I will stop resembling molten crab shells?" The obvious answer would seem to be pick better peacocks..er..men. The problem with this logic is that the older I get, the harder it is to spot these clever masters of disguise. They become more interesting, suave, more handsome with age (one of the many upsides to being a man), and experienced. There is something about this experienced male that outshines the "nice guy." Take George Clooney for example. I am convinced after decades of watching this man date that he will be a bachelor for life. If a woman as exotic and beautiful as Elisabetta Canalis can't hold him down, where is the hope for the rest of us!
My sons father, my first love, is a lot like George Clooney. We have had a rocky on-again, off-again relationship over the past 8 years. Ironically, the older he gets the more he is starting to resemble George in looks and in his dating life. The man has enough charm to turn on a light bulb, simultaneously wooing and crippling his prey. He is the male version of myself, albeit better looking. No matter how serial his dating patterns appear, this only makes him more attractive to women. I will now join all single women around the world in a collective cry: "IT'S NOT FAIR!!!" It is a well known fact today that a man who dates around is experienced and interesting, and there is practically an entire dictionary of unsavoury labels for a woman who is just as picky. Perhaps this is why we feel pressured to hurry and make a decision in a relationship before we are labeled ourselves. I have to admit, I have participated in more than one discussion regarding females who date around and my opinion is often swayed by the general public. Until it hit me one day that instead of tearing one another down (lets face it, un-happy married women) we should all be rooting for each other and yelling, "YOU GO, GIRL!" Instead of, "Jeez...what a skank."
I will now step off of my soapbox and get to the point. The meaning behind the quote at the beginning of my blog is this: Don't wait around for a man to start your life or for the perfect family to come along. Build your house. Take care of the family you have around you even if you are not related by blood. Someday someone wonderful may happen to you, but if they don't, you will be a richer, more beautiful, evolved person who can accept this fact.
Eleanor Roosevelt said, "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."
Of all of the things out there we could be afraid of--why is dying single one of them?
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
"No Boys Allowed!"
I created this blog for all of the "Ex-Princesses" like myself who are struggling to find their place in the world after the initial shock of finding out that we are not princesses and happily ever afters do not exist. By ex-princess, I am referring to those of us who wore the poofy white dress, let others ooh and aah over our 8kt diamond rings (mine was not that big, that was just a number that came to mind..), and planned how we would train our husbands to be the perfect mates so that our lives would never have to be regular or plain again! "Ex-Princess" sounds so much nicer than "25 and divorced." It has been 3 months and I have been through various stages of grief, anger, self-loathing, with few moments of clarity and peace. When you are in a failing marriage, all you can think about is how happy you would be if you were out of it. The truth is, it doesn't stop. Despite the monotony and hum-drum life you had previously with your partner, they filled a void that is virtually impossible to fill with junk food, chick flicks, cigarettes, or alcohol. (Trust me, I've tried.) Junk food gives you a sugar buzz and makes you feel fat. Chick flicks make you feel more inadequate at having a successful relationship, cigarettes give you bad breath and yellow teeth, and alcohol is a depressant. Do the math.
I have read Eat, Pray, Love three times and as inspiring as it was the first time, I can't afford to travel around the world to find myself. So I have decided to go on my own journey of self-discovery. I call this phase of my life: "Ex-Princess on a Budget." A series of events since my divorce, which I will not bore you all with, has led me to Charleston, South Carolina jobless, husbandless, and void of any remaining self respect. I was sitting out on my front porch the other night, breathing in the muggy, bug-ridden air (god, how I miss Arizona..) when I had a thought. It was one of those nights I was contemplating re-entering the dating world, and decided then and there that if I were a man, I would not want to date me in my condition. Let me re-phrase that....if I were a man, I would RUN from me!! I have literally not been single in 13 years. Over the years, I have twisted myself and my desires to perfectly align with those of every relationship I was in so that no man would ever recover from me again. Ouch. Only recently am I discovering how devastating this was to my own heart and to those men. Another thought occured to me that had I been honest about myself and own desires, I might have met the One already. I have mixed feelings about this "One," but I will save that for another day and another blog. With the right blend of poetry, sex, and compromise of self, I have managed to lose myself completely in an effort to obtain my happily ever after.
Having said all that, one of the most important relationships of my life resulted in my four year old son, Hayden. So a certain amount of sacrifice is required in order to not add "Bad Parent" to my list of failures. This is one of the hardest things in the world to grasp when you are a new single parent. That you cannot just quit, hide behind your covers watching Keeping up with the Kardashians re-runs, and eat ice cream out of the gallon until a job falls into your lap. There is no time for grieving..no time for self-pity.
I will be honest, I have friends who seemingly have perfect lives and their blogs revolve around the fantastic news that is going on in their families, and their fantastic babies, and their perfect husbands who give them foot rubs at night. I write this without bitterness and I do not envy them their happiness...they are happy because they found the life that gives them joy. But I can only write what I know. There is a quote from Elizabeth Gilbert that says:
"Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it."
So this blog is about my attempt at happiness. My journey to self-discovery, forgiveness of past mistakes, and surviving my Quarter-life Crisis intact.
I have read Eat, Pray, Love three times and as inspiring as it was the first time, I can't afford to travel around the world to find myself. So I have decided to go on my own journey of self-discovery. I call this phase of my life: "Ex-Princess on a Budget." A series of events since my divorce, which I will not bore you all with, has led me to Charleston, South Carolina jobless, husbandless, and void of any remaining self respect. I was sitting out on my front porch the other night, breathing in the muggy, bug-ridden air (god, how I miss Arizona..) when I had a thought. It was one of those nights I was contemplating re-entering the dating world, and decided then and there that if I were a man, I would not want to date me in my condition. Let me re-phrase that....if I were a man, I would RUN from me!! I have literally not been single in 13 years. Over the years, I have twisted myself and my desires to perfectly align with those of every relationship I was in so that no man would ever recover from me again. Ouch. Only recently am I discovering how devastating this was to my own heart and to those men. Another thought occured to me that had I been honest about myself and own desires, I might have met the One already. I have mixed feelings about this "One," but I will save that for another day and another blog. With the right blend of poetry, sex, and compromise of self, I have managed to lose myself completely in an effort to obtain my happily ever after.
Having said all that, one of the most important relationships of my life resulted in my four year old son, Hayden. So a certain amount of sacrifice is required in order to not add "Bad Parent" to my list of failures. This is one of the hardest things in the world to grasp when you are a new single parent. That you cannot just quit, hide behind your covers watching Keeping up with the Kardashians re-runs, and eat ice cream out of the gallon until a job falls into your lap. There is no time for grieving..no time for self-pity.
I will be honest, I have friends who seemingly have perfect lives and their blogs revolve around the fantastic news that is going on in their families, and their fantastic babies, and their perfect husbands who give them foot rubs at night. I write this without bitterness and I do not envy them their happiness...they are happy because they found the life that gives them joy. But I can only write what I know. There is a quote from Elizabeth Gilbert that says:
"Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it."
So this blog is about my attempt at happiness. My journey to self-discovery, forgiveness of past mistakes, and surviving my Quarter-life Crisis intact.
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