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Archive for February, 2016|Monthly archive page

My Big Fat Life – Walking Barefoot

In Uncategorized on February 22, 2016 at 11:01 pm

You know that fantastic feature on Facebook that lets you look back on your memories each day? Today mine reminded me that at one point I allowed the dog to snuggle with me, that I disliked weird dreams, I liked a song by Jesus Jackson, that Valentines Day was almost upon us, and true to history I had more than my share to say about it.

It’s been my historical belief that Valentines Day is a disappointment day used  used to make the big corporations to prey upon the insecurities of every woman to make more money. Legit beliefs in their own right, but really just a cover for the fact I didn’t have what I saw all those couples had in the ads. You know,  the clean happy and beautiful people who seem to never do anything but smile and spin each other in circles in fields of gold. Almost always they have perfect hair, perfect smiles, and look like they have lived lives untouched by the reality of life. My reality is I spin circles, just not usually in fields and often the ground under my feet is padded by laundry while I’m muttering a bunch of reminders to myself while in my pajamas.

This year though, I am actually a little excited. Not because I have plans to spin in fields, but because I am sharing the day with someone I like spending time with. Someoene who has me believing in love, relationships, and all that jazz.

I hate to sound like one of those people that blame all of their issues on their parents, but it does impact us when we are young to see the things the adults in our lives do. I like to think I survived my childhood unscathed, but reality is there are some things I have had to work through over the years. I used to think that the majority of my struggles surrounded the abuse I experienced as a child, but there is always some dust left behind when you pick up things that have been sitting around and throw them out. I was in my early 20s when I finally made peace (as much as you can possibly make) with the things that took place in my Mom’s house, but It wasn’t until I met someone special that I realized how much my Dad would affect me.

Recently I was conversing with the guy I am dating in a relationship with, and I had said something along the lines of how I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop because I am just not used to things going this well. When he asked me what the first shoe was, I couldn’t answer because honestly I had no idea.

Ever since I was a teen I remember my greatest fear dating was being cheated on and ultimately lied to. Both are actions that I know you are at risk of dealing with when you involve other people in your life, and both are things I have dealt with. While my ex would tell that she never cheated, it’s hard for me to believe based on her actions that shew was legit. While it’s true I didn’t love her the way someone in love is supposed to love another person, it honestly felt violating that she could make an ass out of me and expect me to believe everything she said when she behaved in really suspect ways. Who knows… maybe she never cheated, but the truth is that I caught her in so many lies that it would be a hard press to bring me to the belief that she didn’t. Once the lies start, it’s like trying to navigate through a maze of mirrors and never trusting what you are looking at. Once trust has been kicked around you realize anything is possible. I remember how crappy it made me feel to be made a fool of and lied to, and it’s one of those moments you remember more vividly than the moments that weren’t so bad. It’s just that powerful.

My father was a charismatic man. Handsome, funny, talented, and had a way with the women. His laid back demeanor, full head of glorious hair and ability to make you laugh was something that people were drawn to. The few times I was with him in public, I would see women respond to my father in ways that even I as a child knew married man shouldn’t be acknowledging so it really came as no surprise as I grew older and learned that my father cheated on every single wife he ever had, including my mom and with my mom. Confusing, I know, but there was one time when his second wife was gone when my mom dropped us off at his house for visitation. I thought it was weird she went to his room, but I didn’t really question what they were doing. I was probably preparing myself to deal with my step moms return and her dreaded Jell-O molds she would call dessert that I would liken as a way to torture us kids legally. Years later my mom would tell me that he slept with her that day and essentially broke her heart all over again.

My Dad didn’t change much as he got older. He was married to a woman when he got sick, and I always wondered if she knew he had a girlfriend on the side for months prior. He used to tell me about this other woman as though it was funny he could pull it off but I could never quite understand why he just didn’t walk away from his marriage instead of finding ways to hang out with his side piece without his wife finding out. Maybe it was a thrill for him, and as much as his last wife was such a bitch to everyone around I still felt a pang of sadness that she was being made such a fool of openly to those of us who knew he was cheating on her. Since his death I wondered if perhaps she did know, and that’s why she seems so uptight all of the time. It would explain a lot. Including that shitty coffin that looked more like a speaker box from the 1970s that he was buried in.

It wasn’t until I was in my 30s that I really started to have somewhat of a relationship with my father, but by then I was simply another person in his life that was left behind with more questions than answers. I wish I had asked him about all the cheating and why he did it. I hate that I am left with a lot of questions, but I guess at the end of the day his answers really don’t matter. It’s what I intend to do with the realization of where this shoe takes root, and what I plan to do about it that matters.

The idea that someone could lie to me either by way of omission or outright without regard to the integrity of a relationship scares me. At my age I’ve seen people around me lie to each other, cheat on their spouses, and fail to be careful with hearts. At times it has challenged me to question everything I thought I knew about myself, love and trust. It’s not an easy thing to come back from and probably why the bible, which was written so many years ago, left adultery as the only legit reason to divorce. Even then people realized the damage it can inflict and the war it leaves oneself with. Of all the things that have changed since that book was written, the consistent truth is how people make us feel when they hurt us. It’s a shitty truth to confess that I’ve allowed myself to keep a distance from every single person I have been with because I had two people set an example of how to treat others like crap, but that’s the case and it’s stupid. I don’t want to say that every single thing in my life has been ruined because of their choices over their own lives, because it’s a load when people say that. I’m quite well aware that I am, as an adult, responsible for my own actions. I just think having realized where everything roots itself makes it easier for me to have an ah-ha moment and move on.

So it turns out the crazy emotional first shoe that dropped belongs to my Dad. It contributed to the way I kept a distance between myself and reaching that finish line so many times with people. Between him and my Mom it’s any wonder I didn’t end up just deciding to keep doing the long distance relationships that allowed me the right to say I was in a relationship when I was really just in something that was more of a costume. I don’t regret not ending up with any of these people in the end because I really like the guy I am dating in a relationship with, but it sucks to realize It’s so much easier to just walk away before someone had the chance to hurt me because in the end I am sure I hurt them. Something I never really set out to do, and if by chance one of those people are reading this today, I am sorry.  Unless you were one of the crazy ones; in that case my apology doesn’t apply.

After realizing all of this stuff I decided to stop thinking about shoes and what they represent. It seems my parents crap has had enough space in my life, and I really don’t want to lend more. While I never will have the answers I long for that would probably help me find resolution in a way that makes sense, I have decided they can keep their ugly shoes because I plan on walking barefoot.

 

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