Monday, October 29, 2012

Little owl says WHOOOOOOO are you?

It's like looking in a gray, dirty mirror all the time.  It's like playing tug of war with your panache.  It's like  hating and loving and hating and kinda loving, and then changing your mind again all the time.  It's fucking madness.

Self-identity is the topic.  Playing the blame game is so last season, but I can not escape the challenges that my Mother seems to love to put on my emotional plate.  The scenario that stemmed the topic was last night her and Bill stopped by to drop off some chocolate souffles, a must appreciated gesture.  However, the new guy I'm seeing, Adam, was there cooking dinner and it took my parents all of 10 minutes to start in with the tattoo questions (he has a half-sleeve), I figured they meant no harm and were just curious, so I didn't make a big deal of it.  Next day (today) my Mom text me asking why I was acting so different last night, I said no big deal was just on my period not feeling so great.  She continues with, if you say so, sure you weren't drinking.... and other nonsense that resonates through my head.  After continued prodding I told her I was slightly bothered that they harassed Adam about his tattoo but that ultimately it was no big deal.  Since I said that I have not heard from her. That was 8 hours ago and she still is not speaking to me.  I can sum this behavior up numerous ways: childish, ridiculous, offensive, and whatever a good word/term is that basically says I am exhausted of trying with her!  We just don't get along, period.  She is timid: I am not.  She hates communicating: I thrive on it.  She dislikes being social: I seek social interactions.  She fears new people: I introduce myself to strangers.  She lives with trepidation: I work to banish the trepidation she put in my life. She is close minded: I am open.  We could not be more polar opposite.  Yet she is my Mother, and she wants to be closer to me and I want to be closer to her, in theory.  In real life, we are not even friends on Facebook.  

However, fucked up relationship aside, what haunts me is that our differences leap off the page.  She is constantly interjecting her disapproval of my life into my everyday. That holds true with anything that plays out to be different than what she envisioned for me.  It kills me that my Mother can't see outside her Mormon bubble/predetermined life for me.  She does not prefer people with tattoos, that swear (and yes even hell counts), drink, smoke, dance, live, or do anything different from her norm.  Basically anyone who is willing to be ostentatious and put themselves out there she feels uncomfortable with, great guide to introduce people to the world, eh?  My whole life my Mom has made me feel like I need to be Mormon, marry in the temple, have 3 kids, or else the sigh of disapproval is there.  And I try to see both sides, clearly my Mom feels very strongly about her religion and she is going to want to share with her children and hope that they accept.  However, if some kids have not chosen her path, does that give her the right to treat us differently and constantly put down behavior 99% of the world deems appropriate?

I wonder how my life would be so different if I was not constantly made to feel like a failure.  If I had a more worldly mother who didn't demean me for normal cravings.  Regardless, I am firm believer that we were all raised less than ideally in some form or another and as adults we have the right and resources to work to where we want to be.  I always had this ideology that mother and daughter would be inseparable, could talk for hours, share everything, etc. but my Mom and I's relationship is like a gymnast that can't stick the landing.  We try to make it work, try to play up the few dim similarities but as we get closer, we fall apart. For me, internally searching for a better way to live and function is a part of daily life.  I believe that people should constantly seek to improve, learn, and grow.  Reading articles, taking classes, stretching my comfort zones, being involved in 'over-my-head' conversations, new music, scaring myself, is all part of being me. This definitely conflicts with my relationship with my Mom. As I 'get out there' and fall in love with all these new things, it furthers me from the ideal person she thought I would be.  Of course she is supportive of education, but not salsa dancing, or an awesome new friend I met while tequila tasting.  Becoming an adult has been liberating, and so far, my everyday favorite thing.  Coming to the realization that being who I am doesn't jive with having my Mom be my best friend hurts, but sometimes life doesn't always deal us a royal flush.  I will not be someone I am not to please her.  I owe it to myself to do whatever it is that makes me happy.  They say that letting go isn't the end, it's just the beginning.  It feels sickly ok to say that I am now ok knowing that I will never be best friends with my Mom.  It's just time to face the music, we've been dealt one pair.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Giddy, but reserved pants.

New beginnings are on the horizon.  True in many aspects of life but, perhaps due to hormones and horniness there is only one new beginning on the brain right now as I write, his name is Adam.  Things with Adam have been good, I don't want to use the word great just yet, and cue entrance of the 'reserved' part of the title here...I don't know what I feel, this is why I write.  Throughout grammar, syntax, and wit my life comes together right in front of my eyes most the time.  Anyway, guess a backlog would be appropriate right about now.  Adam and I met online, exchanged a few emails, then texts, met for coffee, met for drinks, yadi yada now we're dating.  It's been about 6 weeks ish? I like him.  He is tall, successful, silly, smart, fun, comfortable, understanding, and basically my minds manifestation of a walking dream boat. Last night while he was cooking dinner in his glasses, chatting up a storm, I couldnt help but just smile.  He embodies the essence of the whole sophisticated and sexy thing while still being able to relax in a tshirt with me, indulging in our special things, while conversing about world affairs or who cares who's right or wrong? Always what I've dreamed of.  Our dates have varied from Michael Jackson tribute concerts to football dates in sweatpants on the couch, to expensive dinners that involve heels and slacks. Explains the giddiness right? However, I feel these reservations, and advice always says to pay attention to the red flags right? But how do you know if the flags you perceive to be 'red' are indeed red flags, there lies the problem.  I feel.......ugh.....I feel.....................confused by Adam's intentions.  Maybe I am over analyzing, maybe I am being smart to avoid really getting hurt, I have not decided yet, and it really is impossible for me to decide until I know what he is thinking.  I feel like I just want time, but every time we kiss I seem to feel pressure from more than just his lips.  

Adam does really sweet things--like take me to great dinners/cooks amazing dinners, tells the waiter 'ladies choice' and lets me choose, listens to the small things, but then he will do something completely silly like not notice there are 6 people and 5 chairs and I am the only one standing. If you know me at all, you  know I am not a pessimist, and it is not in my style to negate six good actions for one bad one. I am not expecting perfection from a man, if I did I would just throw in the towel now and sign on the dotted line, crazy cat lady fo' life! X__________.  However, I am just trying to be smart here and find the middle ground of how do I know he really cares about me/he is a guy and is going to do stupid shit that I need to just let go of. My friend Courtney brings up good points that semi-haunt me: this is the beginning, he is bringing his best behavior to the table, this is as good as it's gonna get...the logical part of me says she is right.

The problem is I am fighting against the clock, does it even need to be typed out that the chemistry is radiating between us? Our makeout sessions have progressed from innocent smooches outside saying goodnight to is that his hand on my ass? omg that is so hot. to me on top of him on the couch moaning in his ear. My body wants him so badly and it would appear that vice versa is true but I'm not going to have sex with someone I hardly know, it's too risky when you like someone. If I had no feelings for Adam the neighbors probably would have called the police for a noise violation last night, but we are past that point of sex buddies yet not ready for committed sex. I just don't feel we know enough about eachother. And I know that it's easy for guys to leave girls at any point when they find out something they don't like, but women being more attachment prone, damn all that oxytocin, have a harder time saying "Peace" once sex is involved.  Sounds like I need to stop smoochin and start chattin with him...Stay tuned....