On Getting Married or The Wedding I Didn't Want or Labels or Whackadoo Tangent Post

(This is my assumed response from you, reading this whackadoo post.)

An acquaintance just announced on Facebook that she is engaged to be married, and has asked for advice. I am excited for her and gave her some, even though she pointed her request at the married ladies. Not thinking, I posted my advice before remembering that I'm newly divorced. 

Force of habit, I guess. 

My identity is still sorting itself out, apparently, even though I feel clear on who and where and what I am...or maybe I'm blurred, which is where I really prefer to be. Blurry feels comfortable. 

That way, I can be whatever I want.

The advice I gave her was this:

"Oh my goodness. First, congratulations! Next, I was anxious too. I had a lot of pressure as well, and caved and didn't really have the event I truly wanted (but that was the nature of my personality and relationships, and not yours). It's seen as a big deal by lots of people, but is your party. You can go to the courthouse or have eleventy-billion people. Your choice. My challenges were my intractable fiance and my pushy mil. I had twice as many people as I wanted and lots of details that I didn't want as well. I had a pushy bridesmaid too, who influenced my choices. If I had to do it all over, I'd have about 20 people. Close family and friends, an oak tree, a simple, matching ring, a red dress, and my guy. That's it. The bottom line is, make it what you want. If you want nothing, just sign the paper. If you want a big deal, make a big deal!", and then added, "Oop! Also, remember that it doesn't matter how it goes: If you end up married, it went well! (Also, I'm newly divorced but I still put my input here.)"

Which led me to thinking about how I used to feel more comfortable with labels and a slots to fit into:

Married, mother, poly, open marriage, codependent, needy, patient, daughter, sister, granddaughter, daughter in law, sister in law, woman, wife, lover, highlighted blond, curvy, big boobed, borderline overweight, wrinkling, girly, self medicating, spacey, kind, helpful, doormat, cousin, stretch marks, high maintenance, conservatively-classically dressed, private, introverted, shy, chapstick obsessed, lazy...

I could keep going on but I just got bored of it.

The point is, I put all these labels on myself (with the help of society and Ex and the other unhelpful people in my life) and fit myself into them one way or another. 

And before I make my next point, let me say that I hate it when people get all lathered up about how labels ruin us and everything and society, though I use them on myself...

I met a woman who, when I asked if she was a vegetarian (we were eating together in a restaurant with some kids and friends), replied that she didn't like labels, that she ate what she was comfortable putting in her body, and then when she realized she had just drunk cold water, that she hadn't drunk cold water for years, then she wondered out loud what it would do to her body.

...

Holy crap.

I can only say here that I hope the look on my face in response didn't match my thoughts, which can be described in a typed action: 

*blink*     or 

O_o         or  

WTF??

Did I make my point? I'm laughing at myself and my tangents now. 

Labels have a place if you are comfortable with them. I've found recently that I'm not comfortable anymore in the labels I wrapped around myself like a shield. In my redefinition I have chosen some new labels for myself (paradoxically) and if I think about them they are:

Divorced, earth mother, in a relationship, open minded, non-judgemental, daughter, sister, woman, Partner, sensitive, patient, lover, blond going gray, beautiful, curvy, self accepting, mostly vegetarian, kind, helpful, cousin, niece, curly haired, natural, chapstick obsessed, burner, organic, re-purposing, recycling...and I got bored again of thinking of things to describe myself but I sound sort of like a hippy - which is where I have leaned my whole life but didn't feel comfortable in THAT label either.

Back to the Facebook response post I started with. I am sorting out my new life and my new identity, and am having a great time doing it, even though it sometimes feels scary as hell. I feel free and totally me for the first time, probably, in my entire life. I owe it to myself, my children, the lessons I've learned, turning 45 (which I did last weekend), and Partner and our blended family, without whom all of this would have happened very differently, but nonetheless it would have happened.

I am brave, I am strong, I am beautiful, and I am loved.

The real point is now I'm ME, goddammit.

Thank you Universe, for all of it.

YEAH.

(There you have it.)

On This Day, The Day I Celebrate My Mother...

(I am the queen today.)

Normal Life. Is That What This Is?

I started to write a little bit about this here, and wanted to write a little more.

Last Friday night Partner and I took Kids to see a movie. They had both seen it, but wanted to watch me see it. It absolutely terrified me and I loved it. What is it about me that I love apocalypse movies? Whether zombies, god and the devil, or tectonics and space, I love them.

I spent Saturday doing laundry and puttering around my house, recharging and getting stuff done. Partner went out to do his thing then came back in the afternoon, and we went out and wandered around looking in art galleries and listening to live music. We drank beer and looked at vendors and had dinner in a wonderful little (hot and sweaty) place I had been to once before. We wandered home and fell asleep like two happy old people. Woke up Sunday and he mowed my lawns while I battled his electric edger, having to turn it off and take it apart to pull more plastic cord out. Then he made brunch while I folded laundry and did more chores. Then he vacuumed my whole house, better than I ever have, while I scrubbed the bathrooms.

When Partner originally asked me what I was doing that weekend I told him I had the kids and that I had a lot of chores to do that I had put off. He said, “I’ll come see you.”, and then proceeded to help me get them done quickly and efficiently, then we drove all over running my errands and his, like a real couple. We shopped, bought bunny hay, rented a movie and hit a wine barn place. Then we went home and he did research for a project and I read my book, happily recharging my batteries in the same room with him. Later I made dinner and we watched the movie we rented. Monday morning we got ready for work and Son wandered in and started to turn on the TV when Partner engaged him in a strategy game while I got ready for work. I left them there playing as I drove to work.

I can’t tell you how weird it is to willingly run all over the place at home and out in the world with a person who is amicable, flexible, funny, and helpful, and to know that this person cares deeply for me and my kids and helps in any way he can with them too.

I also know that this kind of detail can be boring, but for me it’s very exciting and novel. I don’t remember EVER doing this much and having so much fun doing it with any partner or bf I’ve ever had.

EVAR.

I was talking to my brother about it and he told me that hearing that I was having a normal life now was refreshing.

Huh.

Is THAT what this is?

When I’m at Partner's house we do the same sort of stuff with me occasionally 'hiding' in his room if his Ex is there because, for chrissake, there is only so much negativity I can take before I flee behind a closed door. It works out because Partner totally gets it and his kids come in and see me. His Son climbs up into my lap to cuddle, telling me I’m the best cuddler he has ever met.

Damned straight, I am.

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