"And... Have you figured out that we're a couple?"

Ok. So... I have started this entry several times... Trying to figure out how to tell this story.
Is it funny? Is it poignant? Is it a complete shift in my perspective? Did it make my brain hurt and make me sweat profusely and then laugh at myself that I am so slow to figure all this out? Is it silly and small?

The answer to all of those questions is simply, "yes."


Sometimes BJ gets a text from his daughter that freaks me out.
Apparently, she'd been trying to figure out how to ask this question, but couldn't find the words in person... So she asked in a text, "Why don't you call Jen your girlfriend? She basically is."

We were walking through a museum at the moment. He laughed out loud at the text, so I naturally asked him what was so funny. He showed me the text.

My throat got tight. My head started to spin. My chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself and I'm pretty sure all of the oxygen left the room. Or at least I lost the ability to USE the oxygen in the room.


I talked to BJ. I talked to my mom. I talked to my sister. I talked to several friends trying to explain what I was feeling... and listening to them tell me things like,
"Of course you're a couple, but if you wanna call it something else, that's fine."
"It's okay to be scared, but that doesn't change the way things are."
"Take your time, you both seem comfortable with the process you are in."
"I love you, and the label doesn't matter."
"You're an atypical couple, and you can define it however you want."

This afternoon, my sister, my mom, and I stopped to visit my brother on the way home from a baby shower. Jeff said something that prompted me to tell the story of BJ's daughter's text.

Do you know what Jeff's response was?

"We've been wondering for a while when you guys would figure out that you're a couple."

I laughed. I blushed. I sweated (is that the proper usage of that word?) profusely. I was glad I brought it up, and I also just wanted to go home and take a shower.

And somehow, in the simplicity of that statement, there was a shift in my brain.


When I told BJ what Jeff said... do you know what his response was? He chuckled, and said, "And?"

And, what?!?

"And... Have YOU figured out that we're a couple?"


Why is it that everyone else figured it out before I did? But. Yeah. I think I have.
(Jeff, apparently HE has known it for a while, he was just waiting for me to catch up. Apparently Robyn and I have way more in common than we ever knew. :)

So, my next question is, what do I call him?
Boyfriend sounds lame.
Lover is inaccurate.
Friend is still my favorite label, but it doesn't completely describe the relationship.
Roommate definitely doesn't describe the relationship.
Partner (or even Life Partner) feels accurate, but confuses other people. (I tried it at a party this weekend. I was told I was one of those "crazy feminists" who probably wouldn't take my husband's name if I got married. I told him that when I WAS married, I didn't take his name, and I'm such a crazy feminist that I don't even believe in marriage. The conversation with him ended about then. Maybe I shouldn't base anything on that dude's opinions or reactions.)

So, I am now taking suggestions.
What do I call the man I live with and love? The man I am planning my future life with? My closest friend, roommate, confidant, coworker, and fishing/riding/hiking buddy? How do I describe the relationship without going into the details of how we got here?

He likes me even more than fishing!

He says he likes me even more than eating a good ham sandwich (made with lots of Miracle Whip and Grandma Sycamore bread).
He says he likes me even more than fishing. (And he likes fishing a lot!)

At first he said he likes me just as much as he likes horses. Some people might be offended by that, but I'm not. He likes horses a lot. Horses are pretty amazing.

Then he came back later and said he was just kidding.
He likes me even more than horses.

We've told each other we love each other for years. I have loved him for a long time, but this just enjoying each others' company... enjoying loving him... enjoying this feeling right now... enjoying being silly and giddy...

It's just awesome.

And just so you all know:
I like him even more than I like horses, and I like horses a lot.

It isn't hard if it's done right

A week or so ago, I got brave on Facebook and did a status about BJ.

"I never thought it was possible to enjoy being with another person this much. I always thought love was work. This love doesn't feel like work at all."

People who don't know me very well, and don't know Todd at all, and have no idea what I am really talking about said things like, "That's because it is new." or "I give it a month."

Our love and friendship aren't new. Me admitting I love him, and I like being with him, and letting myself be comfortable with the idea that he also loves me - those things are new. Other people defining us as a couple and not trying to convince them otherwise, that is VERY new.

But I've loved him for many years.
My relationship/friendship/whateverthehellyouwanttocallit with BJ doesn't feel like work.
Jeff wrote a blog post about his relationship with his wife, and why he believes marriage isn't work.

He said some things that I have felt, but haven't been able to find the words.

It isn't hard to spend time with BJ. It isn't hard to go fishing. It isn't hard to stay up late working. It isn't hard to listen to him share his thoughts. It isn't hard to hold him when he's crying. It isn't hard to let him hold me when I am sad. It isn't hard to share myself with him. It isn't hard to tell him when I disagree with him. It isn't hard when he disagrees with me.

A few days ago there was an article in the Salt Lake Tribune about what happens when one spouse loses faith (or gains it). There was a quote that really resonated with me.

 "More than likely you divorce because one or both of you couldn’t tell the difference between control and love."

I have been in relationships and friendships that felt like work... and do you know WHY they felt like work? I was trying to control them. I was trying to change them.

I thought it was my job to reform them. Get them to wear a white shirt and tie to church. To go to church. To treat me nice. To get a job. To exercise. To eat different. To go to therapy. To date the "right" person. To stop dating that person. To change their haircut. To stop telling certain jokes.

I had a list of things that I thought other people should do... and when I was trying to change the other person, our relationship FELT like work. It was hard. It was not fun.

In the past few years, I've learned more about me. I've learned about healthy relationships. I know the difference between love and control.

I can say I love BJ, because I have no desire to control or change him. I love who he is. I love the way he treats me. I love spending time with him. I love working, fishing, playing, laughing, crying, talking. I appreciate who he is. I also feel loved by him. He doesn't try to change me. He loves the way I treat him. He loves spending time with me. He appreciates me.

I am in the process of discovering lots of amazing things...
And I just think that when love is done right, it isn't hard, and it doesn't feel like work.
Like Jeff said,

"If you met a painter who truly loves to paint, and you see a magnificent painting they have created.  Do you think they will talk about how hard it was to paint?

Will a car enthusiast talk about how hard it was to restore that classic vehicle?

Will someone who loves photography talk about how hard it was to take that amazing picture?

I don't think so.  If you truly love something, you give it your all.  And you never think it was that hard, because you would have spent the time anyway."

What would it look like if you weren't hiding?

There's been a growing frustration in my head.
It started as a nagging in the back of my mind, and has grown just a little each day. It suddenly got huge yesterday. I couldn't put it in words until I was talking to my sister.

She helped me find the words, "I feel like I'm hiding. I don't want to hide anymore."

That prompted a conversation with BJ. I told him what I had felt while talking to Mellen.
"I feel like I'm hiding, and I don't want to hide anymore."

He asked the question, "What would it look like if you weren't hiding? How would things be different?"

Not much. There's not much that would be different on the outside. The difference would be in my head. I spend a LOT of time trying to anticipate how everyone else will feel and what everyone else will do.

If I say this, will it make someone mad?
If I do this, will it hurt or offend someone?
If I do this, will she make life difficult for or hurt someone else I care about?
If I don't do that, will people be disappointed?
If I am this way, how will it affect them? How will that affect others?

So, how would it look if I wasn't hiding?

I'd be less worried, afraid, scared of angering people that will hate me no matter what I do. I'd be less concerned about what labels people attach to me, and just BE me. I wouldn't worry about how anyone else defines me or my relationships and just BE.

And I would just hold BJ's hand whenever we wanted to hold hands.

Check the facts... and then believe them

One of the skills I learned in therapy was "Check the facts".
Basically, although the emotions we feel are very real, sometimes the stories we tell ourselves that create those emotions aren't real.

A very simple example: No one has called me on my birthday, they don't love me, they don't care about me... Check the facts and find out your phone was off. Several people tried to call, but couldn't get through. They left voice messages. Suddenly the emotions are gone, because the story wasn't accurate.

One of the stories I believed came from another person. Lolly has said that my presence made people uncomfortable, everyone hated having me around, and I was hurting other people by being.

I believed her. I didn't question it. It didn't even cross my mind to use my skill of "checking the facts", because I really believed what she said was fact. BJ didn't believe her... He told me to talk to the people that supposedly hated me...

I was anxious. I was scared. I wanted to crawl in a hole. I didn't. The conversation went like this.

Me: I don't want to cause problems, or make things difficult for you and I know you care about Lolly, and I don't want to change that either... What I'm trying to get at is.... She said that you hate having me around, and that you don't want me here, but you are too nice to say anything. I want you to know if that's the case, I don't need you to be nice for nice sake, you can tell me to never come around again. You can be completely honest with me.

Claire: To be completely honest, before I met you, and I'd only heard Lolly's side, I didn't like you. I wouldn't have chosen to have you in my life... but... then I listened to more of the story, I met you, I spent time with you, and that is not how I feel at all. You're a sweetheart, and I'm glad I know you.

That conversation was several months ago. That should have been the end of it, but I still didn't believe her. It was easier to believe that I was hated, and Claire was just too nice to say so. Two months ago, she called to invite me to dinner in her home, and also said I was welcome ANY time. I still wouldn't believe her. Logically, I know that trusting Lolly to tell me what Claire thinks and feels, and NOT trusting Claire is irrational and silly... but it's hard to let go of the belief that people don't want me.

The truth is, it has nothing to do with Lolly or any of the stories she tells. I BELIEVE that I am not wanted. Deep down, I still play the same message that I have always played, "The world would be better off if you didn't exist." So, every time someone else agrees with that message, it breaks me apart. I believe the false story over the real story. I cling to it. (Like a fucking crazy person!) For whatever reason, it is scary to let go of that old belief... don't know why... I might figure that out later, but for now... I'd just like to let go.

I'm tired of believing the old shit. I'm tired of that old message. It wasn't true when I started believing it (whenever the hell that was), and it isn't true now. (I'm not saying that everyone loves me, that would be just as ridiculous, but I know I am loved. I also know that the people who tell me they love me now, can mean it, because I have let them get to know me.)



And... on top of it all, the one thing I know for sure: There is a lot of peace in knowing what IS, instead of pretending to know and believing what is NOT.
 

My magnificently Boring Life

I was talking to a friend a couple weeks ago... She asked me how I was doing... what was new... all the usual questions.

She and I have both been through HELL. Abuse. (and a lot of it). PTSD. Depression. Craziness. And we both felt like we would never be 'normal'.

When she asked me all the usual questions, I laughed/cried and said, "I'm so normal and boring. It's awesome!"

And then WE laughed/cried as I told her about my very boring (and wonderful) life:

I woke up and ate breakfast with BJ. We talked about horses. We want to train them to drag a tree behind them, so we can cut down our own Christmas tree this year and have the horses drag it out. I don't know how to train my horse to drag a tree behind him. We tried to come up with a plan that would be helpful AND not result in injury of us or the horses.

I showered and got ready for the day. He went to work.
I work from home, so it's pretty easy going. I have two co-workers that come in for a couple hours every week. They came and we worked and chatted.

I fed the horses, and ate my lunch in the pasture with them.
I replied to a few personal emails and played on Facebook, then I went back to work. I shipped 108 pounds of ties that day. That's a lot of orders!

Dann called and we talked. (Like I said before, we're friends.)

BJ came home and we made dinner together. We talked about our day. His work. My work. The conversations he had with Jim at work. (Jim likes to talk about the same things that BJ likes to talk about. They get each other thinking.)

BJ made banana bread, and then we watched TV (Gold Rush. I hope Parker makes it big!) My friend called. BJ tied flies (for fly fishing) while I talked to her, and then we read. Together, but not together... Sitting in the same room reading our own books. I love reading my own book, but still sitting together and sharing what we're reading. Sometimes I only read one paragraph before we spend the next few hours talking about stuff.

Friendship after Divorce

I started this entry a long time ago, but never finished it. I've written and rewritten it and added things and taken away things... just trying to say what I really want to say, but I'm not even sure what I want to say... so... how do I say what I want to if I don't know what it is...

I don't know if it's complete or good.., but I've decided to share it today.

Once upon a time, I spent an awesome weekend camping, fishing, and riding in the mountains. BJ and I had this trip planned for a LONG time. We wanted to pack our gear, ride in to Kidney Lake, spend a few days fishing, and ride out.

(For those who don't know: Once upon a time, Dann and I were married. Now we're not. We are friends. Being friends was important to me, and it was important to him.)


I didn't want to tell Dann about the trip. I was afraid it would make him sad or jealous. I didn't want him to feel angry or freaked out. (I am very aware of ex-spouses that act crazy when they hear things they don't like.) We were all at my parents' house for dinner. I wanted to tell my dad all about the trip - especially since it was his idea. (He went to Kidney Lake and told BJ and I we needed to go.)

So, I talked about it. I ignored the voice in my head telling me that I wasn't allowed to talk about the things that make me happy... But the voice that said I was hurting Dann wouldn't shut up. So... I finally just said, "Does it bother you that I went on this trip? Or that I talk about it?"

"No! Why would it bother me? What kind of friend would I be if I didn't want to hear about the things that make you happy? What kind of a friend would I be if I got jealous when you were doing something you love? I want you to be happy. I want you to do things you love. And I want to hear about it all! Does it make you jealous when I talk about my dates and/or other girls?"

That was a good question. The answer is NO. I feel really happy for him when he's happy. I feel really happy for him when he's doing things he loves. What kind of a friend would tell him that he can't talk about his dates? That's a huge part of his life.

I want us to be friends. Real friends. So, I tell him about the stuff that I care about. I don't protect him from ME, and I don't hide me, and I don't expect him to pretend or hide either. We're FRIENDS.

All of this has gotten me thinking: We are definitely not common, so how are we doing it?
 
I had people tell me it wasn't possible.
"Once you break up with a person, it should just be over." And I agree, if that's what  any ONE of the people want, that is exactly how it should be... but what if both people want a friendship?
 

A relationship only works if both people have a desire to be in the relationship. It would have been completely acceptable if either one of us had said, "I don't want to continue a relationship with you." THAT is different from the way a lot of people think. For instance, Person A wants to be friends, so they try to force Person B to be their friend. That isn't a friendship. I don't know what that is... other than messed up.) If, in the future, one of us needed to change the relationship again, we would. A relationship only works when it works for both people.

I also think we had to let go of our past relationship. It would be impossible to be "present-friends", if either one of us was still stuck in " past-marriage". We have a history, but we let that be history. There is no talk of what might have been, or blame for the marriage ending, or even questions as to why it didn't work out. There is no trying to get back together - there is only our present friendship.


I had to make a lot of changes in myself. It was a big adjustment for people around me... including for Dann. He was used to me being different... more self-sacrificing... he was a huge support in my journey. Instead of trying to get me to go back to being self-sacrificing, he helped me grow the way I needed to grow...

While we were married, Dann did things that really hurt me. He apologized for those things, and he also understood that his apology didn't make everything all better. There was a lot of pain and anger that I had to go through, and he didn't expect me to rush it on his account. He didn't expect me to do anything for him... He didn't even expect me to be his friend unless I wanted to. Really... He had no expectations of me or of our relationship. By not trying to force anything, by letting go of what he thought it should be, it's unfolded naturally into the relationship we have now.


When I talk to him about anything, he doesn't use invalidating statements and comments. (And if he did, I could tell him. We could talk about it without him freaking out.)

He told me to trust myself.

"I trust you. Now, YOU trust you. If you don't want to talk to me, don't want to see me, or don't want anything to do with me: It doesn't matter. Trust yourself. If you fake it because you think that's what you're supposed to do, or because you think that is what I want, you will NEVER recover... But if you learn to trust you in EVERYTHING, healing will happen." (taken from an online chat)

He told me not to answer the phone when he (or anyone) called unless I WANTED to talk to him (or them).  For nine years, I thought it was my responsibility to take care of his needs: to put him ahead of myself. It was hard to change that belief. It has taken me a long time to get to a place where I am okay having needs, wants, and desires...  He understood that, and supported me. I'd like to say this isn't still hard for me. It is. It's been years, and I still have to fight against the feeling that I have to take care of him.

Knowing the way I work, how awful would our relationship be if he wanted me to fix things for him? How awful would it be for me, if he wanted me to continue taking care of him? If he thought that was what I was supposed to do? Or if he blamed me for not doing more to "save" our marriage? I'd have to fight against the false beliefs in my head AND in his head. I don't think I was (or am) strong enough that I could do that. That relationship would be deadly toxic for me.

He respects me when I tell him no.
I'm still working on telling people (and specifically him) "no". I have had to learn to stand up for myself. When I tell him "no" for any reason, he actually thanks me for taking care of myself, instead of pushing to get his way. That, more than anything, makes it possible for me to be around him. To talk to him. To count him as one of my friends. I have been way too much of a people-pleaser to have people in my life who expect me to please them... in any way...

He doesn't act like he knows what I should be doing, or what my path looks like.
Again, he trusts ME to find my own way, and he is a support as I walk my path. He doesn't give me advice or tell me how to live my life. 

He celebrates when I am happy. 
When I moved, and I was SO excited, he was excited for me. He helped me move - into the house I live in with BJ. Dann is grateful that I found BJ, because I am grateful. He wants to hear about our camping trips, our horseback rides, our fishing trips. He also gets angry when he feels BJ or I aren't being treated right.

"When you love someone, you are happy when they are happy. If you feel sad or hurt when another person is happy, that isn't love, that's selfishness." (taken from a text.)

Can you imagine how healing it is to have him say that to me? Can you imagine how wonderful it is to have a friend that really does care about MY happiness?


I feel lucky. I know how beautifully odd it is. It is rather perfect that we've both come to this place. It's rather perfect that we both wanted a friendship, and we defined friendship in the same way. Our separation and our journey was not short and was not easy, but considering what so many people go through, we're very lucky.

Or maybe... I don't feel as strongly (about missionary work) as I thought.

After I wrote the last post (I don't believe in missionary work), I went to my parents' house for dinner. I just got a new iPhone, and was browsing facebook while I was waiting for everyone to get there.

My friend, John, posed this question. I paid extra attention to it because of the post I had just written.

"Hypothetical: There's a 19 year-old LDS male who is super smart and sensitive, who does not believe that the LDS church is the one true church, but who loves the church, and would theoretically like to serve a mission -- but only if he could do it in a way where he didn't feel like he had to lie to people (testifying of things he didn't believe/know) -- perhaps inviting people to join the church if it worked for them? I don't know exactly.

My question to you all --
1) Have any of you been able to successfully serve a mission in this way?
2) If not, do you know anyone who has? Or do you have any advice on how to make this work? I'm looking for advice tips on if this is possible."

So, I asked my family. Justin told me about his friend. He (friend) is from a part-member family. His mother is Catholic, his father is Mormon. His goal for his mission (he's been out for six weeks) is to find the people that the church is right for. No one else.


In that way, I think we all are missionaries... I write a blog about the harm the church has done to me, about working to heal my life, and about abusive relationships, and part of my "mission" is to just be here in case someone else feels like I do/have felt. I'm not trying to "de-convert" anyone, but I want to be a help to someone if they are already on that road and need support.

There are people that need to hear what I have to say. (I needed to hear what I had to say.) 
There are people that need to hear what you have to say too... And now all I can think about is the plaque-thingy my mom gave me for Christmas last year.

Your story matters. (tell it)

It's a fine line... How do you say, "This is what I have found helpful," without saying, "You should do this too." MANY missionaries put HIGH pressure to get new converts. For them, it seems like they need to convert other people in order to validate themselves. That seems like it would be harmful for everyone. The missionary and everyone he talks to.... and that is what I find myself fighting against. 

So, it turns out I don't feel as strongly as I thought I did... 
And... my "mission" is still the same, LOVE YOURSELF. You are perfect and beautiful and wonderful just the way you are. You don't need to change a thing, and neither do I.

I don't believe in missionary work... of any kind

I didn't believe in trying to convert people TO the church when I was a member, and I don't believe in trying to de-convert people now that I've left.

A few years ago, I was working very closely with my bishop. In one of our meetings, Bishop C asked about my friends. One of my best friends is Jewish. At the time, we talked on the phone almost every day... And our conversations were not short, nor were they surface-y. We talked. We listened to each other cry. We shared our struggles and our victories. We REALLY talked. When I told him about her, his response was, "Wonderful! What a great missionary opportunity!!!"

I felt disgusted. Here was this amazing person who loved ME, and who was SO supportive of me and my journey. How could I possibly THINK about trying to convert (change) her? I love her for who she is, and I didn't (still don't) want her to change. I would never DREAM of taking away her family traditions, culture, and beliefs. Being Jewish is a big part of her, and I love HER. (Of course, if she decided she didn't want that to be a part of her life anymore, then I'd be there to support her. I love her, and I want her to be happy, and I trust her to know her way.)

When I started questioning, she was one of the only people I felt like I could talk to. Her perspective was SO refreshing. She helped me to see I wasn't bad for questioning. She helped me by just listening. There was never any judgment, or even really any advice. She was always supportive and safe to talk to. I am still so so so grateful I had her to turn to...

I know many missionaries love the product they sell... and I'm not against telling people about something you love. By ALL means. I love when Amanda tells me about her traditions and holidays. (I like it when she tells me about just about everything - the traditions and holidays are just things that she loves that are different from me.) Last week, my family listened to me talk about the Book of Mormon Musical for thirty minutes. Do you think they cared about it at all? No. They listened because they care about ME. And I hope they know I wasn't trying to sell them on anything. I was talking about it because I like it, but I don't expect everyone to like what I like. The trouble I see with missionary work is that people believe their way is the ONLY way. Missionaries believe that other people are incomplete/broken/need to be changed if they don't believe the same way that they do. (Atheists are just as guilty of this sometimes, and I don't like their missionary work either.)

To those of you who love the church, how would you feel if I told you that the Truth was outside of the church... You can never find happiness as long as you are a member... If you have prayed, and you still believe the church is true, it's because you are not praying right, or haven't studied enough, or you need to repent. It HURTS. It feels shitty and invalidating, and it's not okay. (Those of us who have left get this kind of stuff all the time... And I've heard missionaries telling potential converts things like this. I imagine it hurts less coming from a naive eighteen-nineteen year old stranger than it does coming from family and friends, but still...)

In the book The Good Heart, the Dalai Lama he tells Christians NOT to convert to Buddhism. The Dalai Lama said that... WHY? The only reason I can come up with is that it is more important to him that people make peace with themselves and their own roots. Conversion of any kind is painful. The religious stories we were told growing up are a BIG part of us. In my case, I had to leave because I couldn't make peace with the church and much of it's teachings. It hurt. It is hard. Even though it has been two years, and I am definitely MUCH happier than I was, I feel like I am still in the process of finding ME outside of the church. It seems like asking someone to convert TO the church would be just as difficult.

I HIGHLY value accepting others and loving them as they are. If I had a cause, that would be mine. If I wanted to convert anyone to anything, it would be, LOVE YOURSELF!

It doesn't make you kind - it just makes you feel like a slave.

The following conversation has actually happened. More than once. Most often, I have been the pink person. Once or twice I have been the green person.

A conversation between two people:
Do you WANT to do that?

Sure.

When some people say "sure" I don't feel concerned. When you say "sure", this is what I hear: "I can't even think about what I want. HE wants me to do that, so I will." Which means what you are really saying is, "I haven't thought about what I want yet, but I probably don't want to do it."

Of COURSE I don't want to, why would I want to do that?

I don't know. Why would you?

I DON'T.  But... I'm supposed to do what everyone else wants me to do, that makes me a kind person.

No. It just makes you a slave to other people. I can't imagine that he wants you to feel like his slave. I think he probably actually cares about YOU... If you cared about someone, would you want them doing things they didn't want to do JUST because they felt like they had to... or JUST to make you happy... Only a really selfish, abusive, jerk would want you to do something you hated, just to make them happy. How could knowing you were miserable make someone else happy? I don't believe he's that kind of person. Do you?

No. It's just easier to do what other people want than to deal with the anxiety of disappointing them.

Really? That's easier? You feel depressed and anxious most of the time. You feel guilty and afraid whenever anyone asks you to do anything (unless you also want to do it, then you feel happy. That's the way it is supposed to be. BOTH people are happy.). It might be easier, but I'd say it's killing you slowly. Besides, the fear of NOT pleasing them makes you avoid people. If you had the freedom to say NO, you'd also have the freedom to say YES. Being with other people would not freak you out as much as it does.

You have nothing to be afraid of. You are good and kind and wonderful. You will still be all of those things when you learn to let yourself do what you want. You will find that you want to do a lot of things for other people, and doing things for others won't wear you out like it does now. It will feel good. It will feel fun and loving and GOOD. 

Ok? I can't really think about all that you just said. So, what do I say right now? How do I answer his question today?

Say, "No". 
Say, "I appreciate you asking, but I am not interested right now. If anything changes I'll let you know". 
It doesn't really matter... You can even tell him how hard it is to say no, because you feel like you don't have a choice. You can tell him you feel like you have to do what he wants, but you don't want to... Just be honest with yourself, and understand you are worthy of having your own wants, needs, thoughts, and opinions. You get to decide what you do with your life. 



When I was afraid that I couldn't say NO, I had a lot of social anxieties. I was afraid of every man, woman and child. What if they wanted something? I HAD to give them what they wanted. If someone asked for something, I had no choice. If someone looked like they might sort of kind of want something, I had no choice. It was my job to take care of everyone else, and the way I did that was to always do what everyone else wanted. The world was a terribly frightening place.

It WAS really hard to face the anxiety of saying NO, and even more scary to think about what I wanted. It was SO hard. I wasn't sure it was worth it at the time, but it got better. I got used to acknowledging my wants and needs. I got used to doing what I wanted, and they were right! I actually WANT to do a lot of things for and with other people. I am much more kind and giving person now, because I do things from my own heart. I don't do things out of obligation, guilt or fear.

I feel very comfortable in social situations now. If someone wants a hug, I think about what I want and I do that. (I CHOOSE.) If someone asks me a question, I decide what and how much I will share. If someone needs money, I decide how much I can and want to give. The world isn't scary anymore, because I know I can take care of myself.

Other people didn't change. I did!
 I learned how to take care of myself. I learned how to respect me. I learned I had a choice. I had the right to say NO to any request, at any time, for any reason.

There are some people who don't care about my wants or needs... They care a lot about their own wants. Some people's needs include controlling others, controlling ME. When I encounter people like this, I find I have to be VERY strong. NO should be enough, but sometimes I have to get distance and space from them too.

There will always be people who don't understand or respect my boundaries. There will always be people who use manipulation, insults, and whatever else they have to do to get what they want. When I'm dealing with people like that, less is more.  NO is enough. If I give my reasons, or my thoughts, they tend to use that against me.


There are still people who don't know how to handle it if I don't say YES. They just aren't used to me saying no. At first, they might do some manipulative things, but they won't KEEP doing those things. (This usually happens with family. They've known me all my life, and they just don't know how to handle "the new me". Explaining to them where I have been and why the change makes a lot of sense to them. Their love for me motivates them to become a part of the next group.)

For the most part, all of my relationships are better. Closer. More open. Just more.

There are some people who were afraid to ask anything of me. They knew how hard I tried to please others, and they didn't want to make it harder for me. Now they know I will take care of myself, and that gives them more freedom to take care of themselves.

It turns out, mm  e becoming healthier and stronger made all of my relationships healthier and stronger. That was something I wasn't expecting.

Maybe I'm done being freaked out by weddings

I'm going to a wedding on Friday.
And strangely, I'm excited. For a long time, I have believed that no one should get married. Marriage is an archaic institution. At best, it is a legal agreement. At worst, it is codependent, abusive, and unhealthy. Weddings have freaked me out for a very long time. In my mind, they symbolized the beginning of a horrible hell, but something has changed in the last couple of months... And I blame the bride-to-be.

When I met her, she was going through an awful divorce. She wanted out - He didn't want to let her. All divorce is hell... but in my experience, the hell part was the back and forth before the divorce. In her experience, the hell was the years long legal battle they went through after she had filed for divorce.

I watched her go through having her kids shun her, because they were angry at the choices she was making (combined with the stories he was telling). I watched her decide that she couldn't wait for them to decide to want to be in her life. She loves them and she wants them around, but she's going to live her life and let them live theirs. It both saddened and inspired me. My family didn't make me choose between doing what was best for me and making them happy. Her family did. She chose to do what was best for herself. In my mind, that was the much harder choice.

She started talking about a friend she'd met online. Then she brought him over for dinner. I liked him from the first moment I met him. (He reminds me of my old therapist: easy-going teddy bear, with a tough streak. On several occasions, I have almost called him Paul (therapist's name) instead of by his name.) Although weeks went by between times we saw each other, he remembered what we'd talked about and we just picked up the conversation where we left off. And it was obvious to me that he liked her.

I remember her saying once, "I just want to fall in love. I want to know what it's like to love someone instead of needing someone. I want to know what it feels like to want to be with someone and have them want to be with me."  Watching them together, I felt like she was on the path to find what she wanted. That made me happy.

Then they got engaged. Whenever anyone has gotten engaged recently, I have wanted to go off on them about why they shouldn't. I never shared my thoughts, but it was very loud inside my head. This time, I didn't even feel the urge to go off on why I didn't believe in marriage. Instead, I just felt happy for her.

When I told BJ about my internal reaction, he asked if that meant I wanted to get married someday. HELL NO. I don't.
What does it mean? It means I have finally gotten comfortable enough in my own decision, that I don't need to tell other people what to do. I don't need to tell people why MY choice is the better choice. I can just live my life; make my choices; and let them live their lives and make their choices.

So, maybe I can't blame her for my change in perspective. Maybe, the more comfortable we (meaning people) are with our own choices, the less we need to control others.

What if telling other people what to do is just a way to help us make peace with our own choices?
I feel like I just discovered something important, but it makes my brain hurt. At moments like this, I love insights from others. Your thoughts?

A jumble of quotes and wisdoms for the day

I found Katie Byron's website last night. She says a lot of stuff that I could have really used a few years ago. Didn't know she existed back then, so I just had to figure it out for myself...

"To believe the story that someone has left you is to leave yourself. That’s how you divorce yourself. Every time you’re in your partner’s business, dictating whom he should be with, whom he should or shouldn’t leave, you have left yourself, and the effect of that is loneliness and terror. Until you question what you believe, you remain the innocent cause of your own suffering."

Brilliant. I used to be afraid that someone would love me and throw me away... And then one day I realized, I didn't belong to anyone, so they couldn't throw me away. I am not a possession. I am not a thing to be used. I make my own decisions... It doesn't matter who leaves me or loves me, I have ME, and that is enough. I won't leave me ever again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who would you be if you didn't believe that you needed him (or it, or them) to complete you?
I found out. By letting go of all the things, people, and beliefs I thought I needed.

I am reminded of something I wrote a little while ago. A quote from myself:

"The more you hold on to something you've already lost, the more you fear losing it, so you hold on even tighter. The fear and the holding on is crippling... but you don't see that it is the fear that is crippling you... And then, one day, you finally realize, you're only holding on to an illusion, so you let go, and you feel free.

I've heard people say, "If you love someone, let them go," but really that's just an illusion. The truth is: loving someone doesn't make them belong to you. And if they were never yours, how can you let them go? "

Which reminds me of this one:

I like this one too:

That makes me think of a line from the musical Wicked.

"Too long I've been afraid of  

Losing love I guess I've lost 

Well, if that's love  

It comes at much too high a cost!"

 Love isn't love if you have to be afraid you are going to lose it. (If I don't do this, he'll stop loving me. If I am honest about what I think, they will hate me.) 

One day, I decided I would be me. If people loved me FOR ME, then awesome. If when I was honest and myself, they didn't love me, that was okay too... I'd rather be hated for who I am, then loved for who I pretended to be. That kind of "love" comes at "much too high a cost".

This is the piece of advice I give whenever anyone asks me for advice.

You know what you need to do. Trust you. (You don't know what anyone else needs to do. Trying to get someone else to do anything, think anything, be anything, will make you nuts. Don't do it.)

who you are is more magnificent than any illusion of you could ever be

I was talking to a friend this morning. He is gay. His mother sent him a letter... It sounded like a lot of the things religious people say to manipulate... Because they think they are right, they don't even see how horrible it is. (It goes like this: God said the church is true. God wants you to be happy. God has told me what you need to do to be happy. Do what I tell you to do (and what God tells me to tell you to do), and  even if you're not happy, at least you won't be hurting me.)

Heartbroken, he asked what he should do. Other friends gave him the advice, "Just be you. Show them that you are still the same person."

Its good advice, and there's a few problems with it.
He's still the same person, but in their minds, he's not. He's gay. He's left the church. It's like they have always had an illusion of who he is (in their own minds). For a while, he fit the illusion. That made them happy. Now he doesn't. It hurts them that he is different than the dream of him they hold in their heads. He can't be the illusion, and at this point, it seems they don't want him. They want the illusion or nothing. They'd rather have him lie and pretend that he is someone else than to really know HIM.

The other problem with trying to show them he hasn't changed, is that he can't actually control the way they think about him. Trying to do that will make him crazy... At least, it made me crazy.

I eventually learned that all I could do was be me, and be honest, and other people were going to take that however they wanted. 

I've been called mentally ill, sick, wounded, broken, evil, disgusting, and vile... but the very same behaviors that got the above labels thrown at me also got me labeled as: beautiful, strong, compassionate, amazing, heroic, and courageous.

It turns out all of the "good" things about me are just subjective. Some people love me, some people don't. There's something very empowering about giving up the need to make other people like me, or think good things about me, or want to be in my life. I'm me, and all of the people in my life are here because they like ME. 


I got lucky though... My family didn't send me the awful letters. I had a few discussions where my mom told me she loved me, and I countered her with, "How could you? You don't even know me! I don't believe you even WANT to know me."


She asked me to give her a chance. I did. It's worked out for me. I had gotten to the point that I was willing to give up my family completely... If they had said, "I want the illusion or nothing," it would have been nothing. I would have found friends to be my family. It was too important to me to stop hiding and stop pretending to ever allow myself to be an illusion again.


So, my advice is a bit different.
Just be you. Know that you are beautiful and wonderful, and you deserve to be loved. Even if they don't love you and accept you, that doesn't change the fact that you deserve to be loved.

You deserve to be loved for who you are, because who you are is more magnificent than any illusion of you could ever be. You ARE loved. By me. And probably by a bunch of other people too.

Elizabeth Gilbert: Thoughts on creativity... and marriage.

A friend shared this with me, and I love it.



As a side note, I never read Eat, Pray, Love, but I did read Committed (the follow-up to her freakishly successful book), and I loved it. I read it when I was first trying to define relationships and love... She gave me a ton to think about. She thought outside of the box I was raised in, which helped me to really decide what I thought and what I felt.

I find myself repeating ideas from her book often.

"There is hardly a more gracious gift that we can offer somebody than to accept them fully, to love them."

The following is a quote at the end of the chapter where she talks about Marriage and Expectations. She was interviewing the Hmong women. She asked them a ton of questions about their husbands and marriage, and they didn't understand her questions. One woman finally told her that there was no such thing as a "good husband" or a "bad husband"... There were just husbands and wives and marriages. Everything just is.

"We Americans often say that marriage is 'hard work.' I'm not sure the Hmong would understand this notion. Life is hard work, of course and WORK is very hard work - I'm quite certain they would agree with those statements - but how does marriage become hard work? Here's how: Marriage becomes hard work once you have poured the entirety of your life's expectations for happiness into the hands of one mere person. Keeping that going is hard work....
This is exactly what I myself have expected in the past from love and this is what I was now preparing to expect all over again with Felipe - that we should somehow be answerable for every aspect of each others' joy and happiness. That our very job description as spouses was to be each others' everything.
So I had always assumed, anyhow.
And so I might have gone on blithely assuming, except that my encounter with the Hmong had knocked me off course in one critical regard: For the first time in my life, it occurred to me that perhaps I was asking too much of love. Or, at least, perhaps I was asking too much of marriage. Perhaps I was loading a far heavier cargo of expectation onto the creaky old boat of matrimony than that strange vessel had ever been built to accommodate in the first place."

This second quote is a BIG one for me. WHY is marriage (and love and relationships) "hard work"?
Because we have so many expectations of what the other person should be. Because we have so many expectations of how the relationship should look. Because we want that other person to be everything for us, so we put our happiness in their hands, and they put it their happiness in ours... It's a lot of work to be responsible for someone else's happiness.

It isn't nearly as hard to be responsible for my happiness... To take care of myself... and then to just enjoy time spent with those I love. No expectations. (I always need to say the following though, because sometimes when I start telling myself not to have expectations, I think that means take whatever shit the other person dishes out... But that's not what I'm saying... There is always the ability to redefine and change the relationship, and even leave it behind if it is not a healthy place to be.)

I don't think relationships are hard work... unless the hard work is that everyday I seek to know and love myself... to learn all that I can about me... that's hard. That sucks sometimes, but it is so much easier than the "hard" I experienced in relationships in the past... Being abused and hurt and trying to control others, which in turn hurt them... THAT was hard. THAT hurt.

This wasn't exactly where I was planning on going with this post... I just really liked watching the video of Liz Gilbert, and that got me thinking about the book, and I wanted to share what I'd learned from it... I think it's way cool that I read the book years ago, and many of the thoughts she expressed have now become a part of me. That is the awesomeness of books!

Emotional Intimacy

I heard a quote the other day:

"How do you know when you are being emotionally intimate with another person? 
When you feel anxious and afraid of how the other person will react to what you are sharing, that is when you are being emotionally intimate."

That kind of blew my mind. It's been rumbling around in my head for several days now.

In my post a few days ago, I talked about how intimacy requires saying what you mean to say. Being honest about anger, pain, love, happiness... I talked about how afraid I was to talk about my anger and my pain. I was afraid of getting hurt. Sometimes, literally PHYSICALLY hurt. I was also afraid of being criticized, demeaned, or humiliated. I was afraid of the things I said being used against me at a later date. I was afraid of so many things, so I kept my anger and pain to myself. I thought for so long that I didn't deserve to be treated with kindness and respect if I wasn't doing everything everyone wanted me to do, and that feeling and belief drove my fear... which kept me from expressing... well... anything.

I like this new idea of what intimacy is... It makes so much sense to me...
Saying, "no", requires more trust (for me) than doing what the other person asks of me.
And thinking about the people that I like having in my life: They accept my boundaries. When I say, "No," they don't push me. They are still kind to me and treat me with respect even when I don't do everything they want me to do. It would be IMPOSSIBLE to have an intimate relationship if it wasn't safe for me to be honest... say no; I don't like that; I don't want that; please don't... Completely impossible to have any level of intimacy if "No" is not an option.

Argh! Even now, I hear voices from other people telling me, "It is selfish."
I hear myself saying, "It's no big deal. I can handle it."
Or the fear of retribution from some... the ones who don't understand what a healthy relationship is... thinking that it is okay to respond with hurtful words or actions if I don't do what they want.

But I go back to what I would want for those that I care about. I would want them to be respected. I wouldn't think it was selfish of them to take care of themselves... in reality... seeing others stand up for themselves and take care of themselves has created many beautiful friendships.  (My FAVORITE moment with BJ, "I'm going to take care of myself. I'm going to do what I want, and if you don't like it, then FUCK YOU!" At the time, I resisted the urge to smile... I didn't want to ruin the moment. It felt AWESOME! Loved seeing that he could and would stand up for himself... even "against" me... That was hard and scary for him to say: Completely goes against HIS need to please everyone... which is probably a big reason we became such good friends. He trusted me, and I responded in a way that showed I knew him and I respected him.)
 I wouldn't want them to force themselves to do things they don't want to do because "It's not big deal."
And I hope that if I ever say or do hurtful things, they would get themselves away from me to a safe place. I don't want to hurt anyone.


Respecting boundaries doesn't mean that they don't share feelings. If I say, "No. I don't want to spend the day with you," then a healthy response (if it's true) would be, "I feel sad and disappointed. I really wanted to spend the day with YOU." I respect their feelings and don't try to change what they are feeling... they respect my feelings and don't try to change what I am feeling... I share what I need to share, and I allow others the freedom to respond in the way that is truest to them. (And as always, if their response is abusive, I can let them know, I can choose not to be around them, or any option... I always have the freedom to get out of a situation that is harmful or toxic to me.)

Still learning. Still exploring. Still thinking.
What are YOUR thoughts on this idea of intimacy??

Tell them you love them. or. Say what you mean to say.

It's been a few weeks ago that I read something over at Single Dad Laughing, but it still has me thinking... and thinking... I'm trying to sort my thoughts out, and write them in a way that makes sense. The trouble I keep running into (in my own head) is that what Single Dad says seems to make sense, but it also doesn't... And I guess I've tried to live like he suggests living... and it didn't work. This is me just sorting it out.

It's been almost a year ago that I started the post, "Not the problem I thought I was", but I've never finished it... In that post I wrote about how I have always blamed myself for everything: If someone abused or mistreated me it was because I wasn't good enough, kind enough, quiet enough. In other words, it was always my fault and my responsibility (never theirs) for their abusive behavior. If I ever finish that post, I will write about how I DO have some responsibility in the way people have treated me but it wasn't that I needed to be nicer, kinder, more positive, but instead I needed to take care of myself. It is my responsibility to decide how I want to be treated, and to communicate that. It is also my responsibility to leave any situation that is not healthy.

I was married to my first husband for two years.  For two years, I told him I loved him CONSTANTLY. I repeated it whenever I saw him. I wrote him notes telling him what a wonderful person he was. I really thought if I could just be nice enough, he would be kind back. If I just loved him enough and said it enough, he would treat me better... So I tried to be the nicest, kindest, sweetest, most loving and selfless person on the planet.. I apologized when I had done nothing wrong, but HE thought I had. I stopped fighting him, gave in to everything he said he wanted me to do, NEVER expressed my needs, thoughts, desires, hopes... That didn't stop him from mistreating me. In many ways, it made things worse. In psychological terms, I rewarded him for abusing me, so he continued abusing me. Finally, one day I saw the way out, and I took it. (Off-topic, but can you imagine how it must have felt to be HIM? In one instant, he thinks everything is good and I love him so much, and the next I'm telling him that I want a divorce. BJ says any logical or sane person would have recognized that I wasn't happy long before I asked for divorce, still... in my effort to be nice to him, I think I made it worse.)

Single Dad Laughing talks about how we all need to be loved, and we all need to hear we are good people, so no matter what OTHERS are doing, say, "You are a good person. I love you." In other words, no matter what I am feeling, or what I am experiencing, or how it might hurt me, think first (and only) of the other person. At the same time, he ends the post by saying that if you do that, then you'll hear the same back from the other person. I'm having a hard time reconciling his ideas.

First, if I am saying that in order to get someone else to say it back, that is being manipulative. If I am saying that to get the other person to do ANYTHING, I am trying to manipulate them. It feels icky. In order for that saying to do good, I have to say it and mean it, and have no expectation of getting anything in return. I was kind to people because I thought if I was just kind enough, they'd be kind to me. In other words, I was walking around lying to  myself and to them, and it didn't work. I can't say, "I love you," with any expectation or it isn't love...

Second, it feels good to be kind and loving, but if I am being kind and loving to someone else at the expense of myself, that doesn't feel good. That also feels icky. By "being kind" by not expressing my needs, thoughts, feelings, and then staying in the situation , I was hurting myself. I'm not advocating namecalling or telling other people how to live their lives. I am talking about saying, "When you hit me, or call me names, or (fill in the blank), I feel scared, hurt, sad, (etc.), and I don't really want to be around you." I believed that loving someone else meant that I let them hurt me. I stayed in a place that was emotionally and physically violent so he would know he was loved. It has taken me years to learn that getting myself out of situations that are triggering or harmful or even uncomfortable is a very acceptable and healthy thing to do.

Third, I'm thinking about intimate relationships I have in my life today. They did not come from stuffing what I felt inside and saying, "You are a good person, and I love you." Those intimate relationships became intimate because I was completely and totally honest and open with my feelings.

I was married to Dann for seven years. We were separated for almost three. While we were going through our back and forth do-we-stay-married-or-divorce-or-what-the-hell-do-we-do-now? stage, we were talking. I can't remember how the conversation started, but I felt angry with him. I wanted to leave and go back to my place, because I didn't want to tell him what I was feeling. He asked me to stay, and told me he wanted to know ME, which meant knowing my anger and my pain as well.

I cried. I can't remember if I used the words, but I definitely expressed anger and hatred towards him and the way he had treated me in the past. His reply is one of the reasons we are still friends today. He listened. Intently. And then he said, "It's really hard to listen to you say those things. It's really hard to see the anger in your eyes. Part of me really wants to lash back and tell you how wrong you are, but I'm not doing that, because I told you I wanted to know YOU, and I meant that. I also recognize that you are not wrong - I just wish you were," and then we talked. About all of the pain I felt, how worthless I had felt when he had done certain things, and all of the anger that I had been too scared to express to him for SEVEN years of marriage. I had thought it was my job to forgive him, love him, and tell him he was good... so I'd hold it in. (Lest you think I was saintlike, I wasn't. I felt like I should be super kind and quiet and loving, but I also didn't want to repeat the situation with my first husband, so I'd express anger rarely, but in explosive ways. Either inward at myself through self-harm or eating disorder, or at him indirectly. Or when he was already angry, and I'd push him to the edge to punish him. or... yeah, you get the picture. It was miserable for both of us.) For me, his willingness to listen changed everything. His reply was NOT, "You are a good person and I love you." He was both honest and calm, and that FELT safe and loving. It was a real, open, AWESOME conversation that started a really great friendship.

Intimacy, friendship, closeness all come from expressing emotions. They don't come from ignoring the emotions or pretending they aren't there. They don't come from saying one thing when you feel something else entirely.

I think it is important to be true to ourselves. Express love when you mean it. Express sorrow when you mean it. Say what you mean to say. Nothing more, and nothing less.
By being true and honest about who I am, I give other people the opportunity to be true and honest about who they are. It's a beautiful, wonderful, powerful thing.

"When we are liberated from our fears, our presence automatically liberates others."

Thought that didn't fit in anywhere else, but I still want to say #1:
There are moments when dealing with a spouse or a child that you can say, "You are a good person. I love you. I am (fill in the blank: tired, angry, frustrated, sad, exhausted, happy, busy) and I don't want to talk about this with you right now. Let's talk later." This is a way to defuse a situation and can be very helpful. It lets people know that your love for them is not contingent upon your emotional state. Children often believe that if you are angry at them, you don't love them. They internalize other people's emotions. This is a way to help counter that.



Thought that didn't fit in anywhere else, but I still want to say #2:There are also people I have no interest in having a close relationship with. To those people, I have no problem telling them they are a good person and that I have love for them. That is true - I don't believe anyone isn't a good person, and I have love for everyone. Still... going deeper requires going deeper.



Thought that didn't fit in anywhere else, but I still want to say #3: We all have a need to be loved... but no matter how many people tell us we are good and we are loved, until we find that within ourselves, it will never be enough. Other people will have to keep filling us up. That need to have others love us makes us dependent on others.

I was driven by fear that I might lose others' love. In order to keep the love of others, I allowed people to abuse and mistreat me. I ignored myself and my needs in the hopes that would make me good (and therefore loved). But, because I didn't love me, and because I KNEW they didn't know ME, their love felt hollow. No one else could fill the emptiness that hating myself created. No one.
Now instead of telling everyone else how much I love them, First and foremost, I tell myself that I love myself, and then trust that love to guide me. That makes me a more loving person.

Life is different today. It feels GOOD to be loved for who I am, and it feels good that there are people who don't like me. There are people who love me for me, and there are people who dislike me for me. The very same qualities that some people call "good", others call "bad". It's all about personal preference. Instead of living to please everyone by pretending to have only "good" qualities (which meant being a completely different person depending who I was with), I am just me. Always. I don't need everyone to love me. I just need me to love me. It also feels good to find other people who happen to love me too.

Really??

Last night, BJ got a text from his ex. He read it to me, and I'm not completely sure why this one was so triggering to me... But it was.

The text said, "I just wish that you would think about me and respect me and my needs sometimes."
(He took a pan. ONE PAN. No other dishes, plates, silverware from the house since he moved out, but he went to the house and got a PAN. Maybe he should have just lived without like he's done for SO long.)

Somehow, that was just too much...
I was raped almost everyday for two years, but that was not the worst part.

The worst part was that I BELIEVED it was okay that he did that. I BELIEVED it was MY job to let him. There were so many beliefs that kept me there, motionless on a bed, when I could have walked away. The worst part was believing I was nothing but a tool to be used, and also believing he loved me. He SAID he loved me. And then he'd say things like, "Don't be selfish. I have needs too." or "I just wish that you would think about me and my needs sometimes."

I believed that if I said no to him, or if I had any wants, desires, thoughts of my own, that somehow hurt him. THAT is the worst part about being in an abusive relationship.

I believed that love = sacrificing everything so that my spouse could be happy. Unfortunately, my spouse seemed to believe that love = his spouse sacrificing everything so that he could be happy. What a recipe for disaster!

I spent much of the evening angry, sad, hurting, facing the hurt, and trying to come to grips with what I had just seen and realized about myself. (This wasn't totally new, but still seemed very big and important to face.)

This morning, I got a message from his ex.

"Would it be okay with you if I ask you some personal questions about your sexual abuse before and during your marriages? Yesterday, I had an experience with a friend who started opening up to me about some stuff in her past and the first thought that popped in my mind was to talk to you. That might seem strange given what's going on, but I can't shake the feeling, so there must be a reason. Thanks, xxx"

My first reaction, "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Second reaction, "Oh. Hell. Yes. Lets talk. I'll TELL you what its like to be abused. I'll TELL you how it feels when your spouse is so controlling and demanding that you forget your own worth. I'll TELL YOU!"

And then I got on the phone with my mom. I shared that I had no desire to "talk" in order to be helpful. I wanted to yell, and scream and fight and beat her down. Once I got the swearing and the yelling out of the way, I heard myself say, "Even if I DID answer her questions, that won't help her understand her friend any better. If she wants to understand her friend, she needs to listen to her friend."

On the other end of the phone, I heard, "See. I knew you'd figure it out. That sounds like the perfect response."

So, this is what I sent:

If you really want to understand your friend, listen to her. You could ask me questions about my abuse, but it wouldn't help you understand your friend any better. What every abuse victim (every human) needs is for someone to really see, hear, and understand them personally.

There are a multitude of resources on the web. But again, the most healing thing you can do for anyone is to listen to them. REALLY listen. Your friend will tell  you everything you need to know about her.
I hope that helps.
Jen

I feel peaceful. I don't know if she'll be able to accept my answer. I hope so... for her friend's sake. But either way, I feel like I just went through one very intense process. And I came to a place where I am very comfortable. I also offered the most precious and honest advice I could give. She may not see it, but I gave more of me in those few sentences than if I had said all of the things I thought I wanted to say.

Who is the better friend?

I had a friend post this on facebook as her status:

"Let's hear some opinions- Do you think a friend is someone who lets you be your self or is a friend someone who helps you become better than yourself?"

I wanted to put an answer, but the only thing I could think of was, "Who the hell are YOU (or ME) to decide what makes someone better?" That didn't seem like an answer that would create the feeling I wanted.

I have literally spent the last two days obsessing and mulling over the question, as well as other people's answers. I've had discussions online, on the phone, and over dinner all about this same thing. I laid awake last night unable to sleep, because I couldn't turn my brain off.

Round about five o'clock this morning, this is what I came up with:

"The friend who accepts me and loves me for who I am is the truest friend. It feels amazing when someone sees ME, knows ME, and loves me. That kind of friendship feels hopeful, healing, and inspiring. That kind of friendship inspires me to be the best me. They don't love me, SO that I will change anything. There is no expectation to change... And ironically, that provides the best environment to change and grow and learn, and become better.

When a friendship is based on, "I love you and I hope you'll change," that feels confusing, lonely, sad, "dried up", and withered away... The opposite of inspired. It eats away at me. Until I have no desire to be around that person, because it is painful and empty.

I also used to get confused and think that I should accept everyone just as they are, which meant accepting things that really hurt me. (Like a friendship I described above.) Now, I can say, "That hurts me, so I won't be around you when you're doing that." That isn't about changing them to be better, its about creating an environment I like being in. I can't know what is "better" for someone else. Only they can know that. And only I know what is "better" for me.

I really like the saying, "Accept me as I am or watch me as I walk away." And I feel like that goes both ways, "I will accept you as you are, or I will let you walk away." That feels like love (true friendship) to me."

I posted it to her status. I feel terrified. At first, I wasn't going to... I didn't find this answer for her, it was for me. But, she did ask for opinions, and just because my opinion was pretty much the opposite of everyone else that posted doesn't make my opinion wrong... 


It might open me up to nasty messages. It IS her wall, so she can hate it, delete it, tell me not to post there, and I think that's fair. I'm still scared. Speaking my truth is new for me, and scary. I'm not used to voicing my opinions when they are different from others... yet.

Serenity

In the book Controlling People, it basically says that when a person thinks they know what I feel (without me telling them), that is controlling.When I think I know what someone else is thinking or feeling, or that I can change what they are thinking and feeling, that is controlling.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately.

A few years ago, after leaving CFC (eating disorder treatment), but still VERY new in this whole healing process, I had to make a decision. I knew what I needed to do to heal my life, but I knew other people would think I was crazy. I kept trying to find another way around it, but finally gave up. "I don't care what people think. I don't care what other people do. Here goes nothing."

For me, what happened next was terrifying. I stopped trying to control myself so that I could control what everyone else thought of me. I cried uncontrollably for hours at a time. I screamed and ran away when I was scared, even though there was a part of me that could have controlled myself, I didn't try. I left the church. I withdrew from my family.

Some people thought I was crazy. Some people thought I was a bitch. Some people thought I was incredibly selfish. I had to give up who I thought I was, and who I thought others wanted me to be, and I had to give up the idea that I could change what other people thought of me.

I was threatened with hospitalization. I was able to say, "I'll go if that is what you need me to do. I understand that this is MY journey, and you are not required to go with me. I trust you to take care of you."

I ended up not going, and I'm glad... But that is not the point. I finally trusted me enough to let go, and I trusted the people in my life enough to let go of them. I didn't know what the end product would look like. There was a lot I didn't know, and it really didn't matter.

I didn't feel the need to control anything. Not me. Not them. Whatever happened, happened.

Fast forward to now.
I got the email from my cousin. Sent me into a kind of crazy place. At the same time, I was getting emails from BJ's kids and ex. They were telling me how I ruined his life. The combination was a little more than I could handle, and I went back to old ways of thinking.

I started to believe I was responsible for his choices. I started to believe I was responsible for their choices. I started to believe I couldn't trust myself or them or him. I forgot to even THINK about what I needed, even though that is the only thing I could know. I was trying to control what everyone else thought, rather than take care of myself.

I was quickly becoming all that I hated.
Luckily, I have some amazing friends. I changed course. I stopped trying to control what others were thinking and instead decided to face the things I could face: the memories and the secrets from my cousin.

I'm not going to say this is easy, it is NOT. I'm hurting. I'm crying. I'm scared. I'm sad. At the same time, I'm trusting the people around me to take care of themselves, and trusting me to do what is best for me, and knowing that whatever happens next is okay.

I cannot control what other people think about me.
Believing that I can, only makes me (and everyone else) incredibly miserable.
Knowing that I can't, frees me to live.

God, grant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

Courage to change the things I can.

And wisdom to know the difference.

"the guilty taketh the truth to be hard"

I'm reading the book Controlling People.
The book says that ANY time a person believes they know what you think, feel, believe, etc., without you telling them, they are pretending. Pretending (in this way) is a sign of a controlling person.

I have believed that other people can tell me what I think. What I feel. Who I am. What I believe. What I do. What I don't do. I have accepted other people's definitions of me.

I used to believe that my defensive or angry feeling was a sign that I was wrong.

I cannot tell you how many times I have been told, "The guilty take the truth to be hard. The reason you're arguing is because you know I'm right. The reason you're upset is because you feel guilty." and I BELIEVED them. I tried to squelch my own thoughts and feelings, because someone else knew better than I did.

A recent example came from BJ's ex's stake president. JM told me the only reason I was upset at his breech of my confidentiality was because I felt so guilty for not living up to my covenants. He actually quoted the scripture, "The guilty taketh the truth to be hard." (1 Nephi 16:2)

First, How does Nephi know what Laman and Lemuel are feeling? Why they are upset? He is PRETENDING to know. That is controlling. And the LDS world sets Nephi up as an example to follow?!?

Second, How can JM, the Stake Pres, POSSIBLY know how I feel. He is also pretending. He can't know why I am doing things. He can't know what I think, what I feel, who I am, because I have never told him. He is also controlling.

Everything I was ever taught, was backwards. All of the men (and women) who pretended to know what I was thinking and feeling, DIDN'T know. I know. I know better than any bishop, husband, friend, stake president, waiter, stranger, boss, etc.

(Disclaimer: Asking a person if they are feeling (blank) is entirely different than telling a person they are feeling (blank).)

When I felt angry at Larry (Ex-Husband#1), it wasn't because I was feeling guilty, it was because I didn't like the way he was treating me!
When I felt angry at my dad, it wasn't because I was feeling guilty, it was because I saw something I didn't like. He hurt me. He hurt my brothers.
When I felt angry at Ex-Husband#2, it wasn't because I felt guilty, it was because he was violating my boundaries.
When I felt angry at JM, the Stake Pres, it wasn't because I was feeling guilty, it was because he shared my personal information.
And the list goes on...

Other people can't read my mind. They don't know, even if they think they do.
(And I can't read other people's minds. Even if I think I can.)

I find it fascinating to be able to see the world through these new eyes.
I finally SEE and understand what I have felt for a long time.