New Year's Eve, 2017-2018

            It is amazing how much can change in the span of a year, or even six months. This time last year, I thought the house I was in would be the house in which I would stay for at least two years, if not longer. By the time my birthday came around, I knew that would not be the case and I was not happy about it, but I remained hopeful and optimistic that everything would work out with the family I thought I was creating.    

            Now, 2018 looms on the morrow’s horizon and everything is different. Everything has changed.

            I entered 2017 as optimistically as I have entered the past few years—with hopes, telling myself that this would be my year. Nothing would stop me, nothing would come in my way, this would be my year to get my shit together, figure out my life, and move the fuck forward with real goals and real progress.

            When I made that resolution, I had no idea what it would take for it to come true. When they say, “Be careful what you wish for or you just might get it,” they are not kidding. I have come to the idea that when someone makes a wish—an earnest, true wish—it is released to the Universe and the Universe will grant that wish. The catch is that the wish will never be granted the way you imagine it to be. Never.

            As it turned out, 2017 was difficult, but ultimately I have met much of what I wanted to do. My blog has not remained as active as I had set out to make it, but given my limited audience, I’m not really hurt about that. I know that as I take my time getting all of my ducks in a row, blogging will fall into the pattern of routine. I have been journaling again, nearly every night, before bed. I write down my innermost thoughts and feelings, those intrusive things that come unbidden to my mind and would linger, festering, if not for the release of ink into paper.

            The year draws to a close and as the end, and a new beginning, draw nearer, I find myself reflecting on my own thoughts yet again. I did not imagine I would be in another apartment, nor did I think I would still be renting. I never dreamed that I would be alone with my beautiful daughter. I know a handful of people who have managed to purchase homes, moving forward with life in that typical way that our society deems normal and acceptable. People with whom I went to high school are getting married, having babies, and purchasing houses as if we still lived in the Golden Age of American Financing (also known as the years during which income taxes on the highest income bracket were over 90%). When I compare myself to them, I think I am somehow coming up short on my potential, that somehow I am not living in the timeline I was meant to and instead I am in many ways retarded—lacking in some crucial fashion that others are not.

“People with whom I went to high school are getting married, having babies, and purchasing houses as if we still lived in the Golden Age of American Financing.”

            As 2017 ends and 2018 begins, I find the futility in making such comparisons. It does not do to compare myself to my peers in this way, for my journey in life has been nothing like theirs. These people lived in nuclear households, having both parents and full siblings with whom they lived stable lives and learned how they belong in this world.

            While my peers had stability, love, support, and the sense of belonging no matter what, I had other issues to face. My parents were never together; they were never married and they never lived under the same roof. My mother had four children, each with a different father, and my own dad fathered his second child when I was 20 years old. My family is wrought with mental illnesses, including depression, anxiety, and dementia (in old age). Those who were my peers and suffered similarly became people I called friends, but even then, I felt as though I didn’t belong.

            Ultimately, realizing the differences between myself and my peers in terms of what has led each of us to this point in our lives helps me to realize that I cannot compare myself to them, nor can they do so to me. I have a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment at a lower monthly rental rate than any other apartment complex or house within 100 miles. I am located conveniently close to my school (I can ride my bicycle to class), with my daughter’s new preschool within walking distance of our new home. The mall is within walking distance of our new home, and my best friend lives a mere 5-minute drive away.

            So, I am in an apartment. I have less square footage to maintain than my peers with full-size houses of their own. I do not need to worry about paying for my own garbage disposal, water usage, or sewage service. I have no HOA fees to pay, nor property taxes. I may be a single mother now, but I have friends who come to see me and I have friends who invite me out to do things. My daughter is developing much better than she was, six months ago. Her speech has vastly improved, and it has become clearer even in the mere month during which we’ve lived in our new place.

Happy New Year!

Perception

Mindful practice leads to mindful expression,

yet my words bring on unwarranted projection

of a psychotic, horrible, toxic perception

of unfolded events; denial; rejection.

Boomerangs aren’t my style; I prefer seeds

to plant as thoughts that, like food, feed

some ideas that might just let you see,

if I explain it right, I’m a human with needs.

Reputations do not depend on one person’s thoughts;

actions explain themselves, reason is sought,

and when reason comes up naught,

then, only then, is the true villain caught.

Those without balance devise their own doom,

regardless of dark or light on their loom

of life; the organization of their living room

does nothing to stop the disastrous boom.

“Unacceptable,” the consensus does say;

the same word is uttered every day

as an assessment of the inexplicable way

he decided he no longer wanted to stay.

A tiny spirit, confused, heartbroken, trampled and torn

over sudden abandonment, sharp as a thorn;

I do what I can to ease her pain, while my scorn

comes out in writing; yet it’s seen as something worn.

Distance, closed by screens yet expanded by air,

I am here and you’re all the way over there;

you will never see the why and the where,

the what or how I soothe her when she’s scared.

A Letter to Self

Dear Ally,

This may be the longest letter I ever write. You are worth every word, every moment of effort put into this, just so you can see the words for yourself, from me. It's time to start seeing yourself as worthy of love, acceptance, and kindness.

It's okay not to be okay. It's okay to hurt and it's okay to be unsure and it's okay not to know what's going to happen next, how long a chapter in your life will last, or when something will transition into a better thing. It's okay to be kind and loving to everyone, even those who are abusive, and it is okay to tell the truth, even if others do not like it or agree.

"If I encounter evil and I am not ready, I can still win if I do not compete." (Unknown.)

Now that you've processed and released your feelings towards him for what happened, it's time to recognize yourself. You've caught your reflection as you've written letter after letter to various individuals and personalities in your life. Now it's time I spoke to you.

The Gut may be overrated, but it is also underused by many. Many people have subscribed to "Head over Heart" thinking and have lost touch with their intuition and natural guidance in life. Darkness is attracted to those who lose touch with reality, and I watched you lose touch with yourself and sight of what's important to you. I watched you compromise your core values for him. Don't do that again.

You cannot sit back and wait for another person to read your mind. You cannot expect someone to know what you want all of the time. You were born in the United States of America, one country of many in the Americas whose culture is that of the low-context variety, meaning the assumption is that the person next to you differs in thoughts, feelings, beliefs, and values. Yet, you operated as though you were brought up in a high-context culture, as though the people around you are supposed to share your thoughts, feelings, beliefs, and values, and you sat back as though in such a culture and expected people to read your mind. You're not in that kind of culture, and you don't have the power to change the culture in which you were raised, by yourself.

It takes action to change habits. Consistency is the only key and the only way to improve. Your emotions are powerful and you've allowed them to govern your actions. This is not acceptable; it never has been, nor will it ever be. There is merit to "Head over Heart" thinking, when used correctly. Keep improving your response, rather than trying to tailor your reaction. Forward thinking, planning, and prevention are the things that will get you the furthest in life. Lack of proper planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on part of another. Feel your emotions and allow them to course through you. Start using your head based on what you feel in your heart, and use your heart to know what's right when making forward-thinking decisions.

It's easier to see the ways you can improve now that you have a planner that outlines it for you. How convenient for you to have your journal right next to it in your bag. Every day has the most potential to be successful. Perhaps I don't need to point out your areas for improvement or tell you you're slacking. You've always been so quick to pick up your own shortcomings; this is something those around you seem to fail to notice, more often than not. You look at yourself more than others through this mirror I hold... and you know, although you are quite attentive to what really matters, you've been slacking here and there.

Bad habits die hard, especially when they've been reinforced. But it doesn't matter what you say or what anyone else says. Your expectations for the relationships you've had have been ridiculous, at times. You were certainly convinced he was "the one," that he was perfect for you. Although you've burned away the negativity and taken back the ill will in the form of guilt and shame, still you're hurt. What matters now is what you've done these past two months. You've been constructive, positive, and happy, and your daughter is picking it up. She's doing much better now, with you, than she was doing before.

It's okay to hurt. And it's okay to love yourself. You've given so much of yourself, you've forgotten who you are. You've compromised so much of yourself to change who you are to try pleasing someone else. What if he did that, too, to an extent? You believed in him wholeheartedly. You were on his team when everyone else told you things that put him in a bad light. You defended him against all of your friends. You believed he could be better, if only you could find the way to reach him and communicate effectively. Yes, he lied to you, but what if he truly believed he had good intentions? It's not about blame, at this point. It's about forgiveness and love. The love is still there, and it may always be. It's okay to still have love for him. Without that love, the relationship would not have begun in the first place. Without that love, your daughter wouldn't be here.

It does not do to let go of love. Instead, let go of the pain, the fear, the anger, the darkness. You've been so attracted to darkness for so long. Darkness can be beautiful and it can be useful, but think of your namesake, Ally. Think of the meaning behind your first name, derived from Alice: "Of a noble kind; noble; honorable." Next, think of your middle names' meanings; Virginia: "The maiden; virgin," and Marie: "Sea of bitterness/sorrow; rebellion; wished-for child; Mistress or Lady of the sea." Darkness is in your very name, preceded by light and innocence. There's a lot of light out there to be shared; we do not need others to feel our darkness. They are just as aware of it, through their own experiences.

I love you. Usually, I've said it to you more as a joke. I've sarcastically laughed and said, "I kill myself!" as a euphemism for laughing at your jokes for finding you hilarious. Briefly, in those moments, your confidence is greatly bolstered, and I shine for you. But then you retreat, almost as quickly as you came to surface. Back into whatever troubles you, whatever it is you've desperately been trying to make others see.

Do what you like to do, love. You enjoy cooking; you enjoy having a clean home. Even mundane chores are fun to you, when you've got the right groove going. Now, you've found people who help you into your groove. Hold on to them. Love them. Allow my daughter to love them. Love is never the problem, fear is. You have a lot of both, yet you've allowed fear to govern you for too long.

You're afraid of love. It's terrible, yet it's true. You're afraid to hear me tell you, earnestly, that I love you, yet here I am. I do. You're at your best when you accept me, and it's time. You can trust me. I will not lead you astray, and if I do, you already know I'll make it right immediately--or as immediately as possible.

If they dance with demons, let them have them. Those are not your demons; you needn't accept them into your life. Let others fall for the Glamour before their eyes; it is not your concern if you cannot enlighten them or open their eyes with kindness or good intentions. Go with love in all that you do and remember the Celtic blessing from the stranger on the street:

"Let those who love us, love us. For those who do not love us, may God turn their hearts so that they love us. For those who do not love us, whose hearts God cannot turn, then may God turn their ankles so we may know them by their limping." -Celtic Blessing (Unknown)

Love,
You