Thursday, January 4, 2018

New Day, New Me

End of the year for me also marks the end of a birth year. As a kid, I hated having my birthday on December 31st because I never got the attention I wanted. As an adult, I appreciate having my birthday the last day of the year, because it is a perfect time to take inventory on my life.

Like most, 2017 was a hard year for me. Politically it was insane, which is what I think most people are referring to, but 2017 was hard personally because I became fully aware of some of my bad habits, and actually admitted out loud I had things to work on. Scandinavia was hard, because traveling, camping, walking, cooking, and sleeping with one other person, 24/7, for 22 days straight, is hard. Summer at home was hard because I like to stay busy and I wasn't busy enough. Costa Rica was hard because it was humid and hot and the experience was not at all what I was expecting, though it was incredibly valuable. The road trip around the West was so fun, but hard, because I had to say goodbye to one of my best friends, and greatest loves, for at least a while, if not forever (I cried everyday for a week after Adriaan left). Alta has been fun so far, of course, but hard because I am in a leadership position where I manage the people I live with, and finding a balance is tricky. Plus it's hard because I would like to have good, strong, valuable relationships with people, but the dudes are hot and the hormones run high and I am not disciplined enough and have already found myself in sticky situations. Oy vey. Yeah, 2017 was hard.

However.

I have learned some valuable things, and because 3 is a magic number, I will share 3 lessons learned.

Number One. I am so beautiful. I AM BEAUTIFUL! I am a fine wine, more beautiful with age (I am loving getting older). I feel confident and happy. And though I sometimes drive myself crazy, and I make mistakes, and I do things that don't make sense,  I really, really, really love myself. I am okay with myself. I accept myself, flaws and all. I am told I am crazy. I am told I'm intense. So many people tell me I'm able to get them to talk about things they never normally talk about, and it makes them feel uncomfortable, and vulnerable, and they don't always like it. I get under skins. I get under my own skin. But I love everything about myself. I love that I am bold. I love that I ask hard questions. I love that I laugh at almost everything. I love that I love people, and I love that I'm willing to display my love, even if it makes me look foolish, or makes me look like I care too much. My dad said, "Is it not important to manifest outwardly the love we have, that no one else has in the same portion or in the same way?" I love that I unabashedly show my love, even if it overwhelms people.

Number Two. I can nothing do about it. I have written about this concept before, but I feel like the older I get, the less I care what people think of me, because I have no control over what they think of me. In fact, I am fascinated by how people perceive me, even if it's negatively. It's intriguing! People will think what they will, and do what they want, because they are them and I am me. We are all shaped by how we were raised, our opinions are based on how we perceive things, and how I perceive things is different than how anyone else perceives things. I can't change anyone's mind, so why try to control them? I have no control.

I can control myself. I can control some things about my environment and the people I manage at work and so on, but I have no control how others will react. I don't control their thoughts, emotions, or actions. Someone can be insulting me to my face (which happened just yesterday), and I can sit there, and listen, and smile, and take it, and not let it affect me, because one person's perception of me is based so much on their perspective of the world, and I have no control over their perspective of the world. And so, I can receive what are meant to be insults, but still feel at peace about myself and forgiving of the other person. Trust me, this doesn't work all the time, I'm not perfect at it, but I'm getting better with active practice, and it feels great. There is so much freedom, so much peace, in relinquishing control.

Get it? Got it? Good.

Number Three. I think I've figured out what love means for me. I've been spending the last couple years trying to figure this out. I think love means different things to everyone. We all have our own idea of what love should feel and look like, and that's a beautiful thing. Love, for me, is when I will let someone else take care of me. Sounds weird, right?

I have a very hard time accepting help from others. I love to give and give and give and give, then give some more, then forgive, then give again. This causes me to feel a bit drained, even though I love to give. I see it as a weakness to ask for help, and I do not want to appear weak. I can get people to talk about themselves for hours, but I have a hard time talking deeply about myself. There are people who think we are the best of friends, but it's because they have told me their life story, and I have listened, but they've never asked about me. It's weird not feeling at all close to people who feel so close to me.

This is where dear, sweet, (butthead) Adriaan comes in. I spent two months traveling with him last summer, and we saw every side of each other. He met my friends and family. He mowed my mom's lawns and bought my grandma flowers. We fought, talked, walked, laughed, fought some more, compromised, kissed, loved, cried, gave, helped each other. He knows me better than any other person knows me. Most importantly, I feel safe with Adriaan, safe enough to let him baby me, take care of me when I'm sick, carry me when I'm tired, let me (literally) cry on his shoulder. I trust him completely.

BUT.

He lives in The Netherlands and I live in the States, and neither one of us plans on moving to the other country. So we remain good friends, I hear from him every day, but we will never be together. I'm not sad about it (anymore). The reality is that no matter how comfortable I feel with him, he still drives me crazy. I don't believe there is just one person out there for me, I think there are many different kinds of people I could love, and I might even find someone I'm more compatible with. I'm not looking for an American Adriaan, I wouldn't even want that. I just want someone I feel safe with. Someone who I can let my guard down with, who I will trust to take care of me.

There are my three.

Here's a bonus: I am trying to be a lot more forgiving of myself, allowing each day to be a new beginning. Instead of focusing on the mistakes of the pervious day, I will forgive myself and allow myself to move forward. New day, new me.

And peace be with you.

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