Getting Used To My Box

It’s been a couple of years now that I’ve been checking the box 35-44. And I am getting settled in here. It’s not as bad as it could be… or that I thought it might be. Especially as I creep oh so much closer to the middle range of that box. A little hesitation… no dread. I still love the ‘you’re kidding…’ after I tell people my age. I will always love that… ummmm as long as it keeps happening.

It is on this day, my birthday, that I can’t help to examine the timeline of successes and failures. What should have I accomplished? What do I want to accomplish? You know you beat yourself up a little that your how old?? And what are all your friends doing that are younger and prettier than you doing?? Having babies and married with happiness glowing from every pore. Maybe even launching careers that actually don’t get laid off in 8 to 10 yr. cycles. Ugh. Do I want babies yet? Do I want still want this career? Am I burning out? I’ve felt exhausted sometimes wondering what I could have done. So, I’ve decided not to waste any more time on it. Ever. Why you ask?

Two significant events happened in my life over the past 8 months that are responsible for this non-self loathing. One during June of 2009. And the other just as the year was ending. Both of those events turned what I thought was okay in the world inside out. Then they proceeded to smack me hard taking my breath away so that I would stop right in my tracks. I know it all sounds so dramatic. But it is my nature to assess, solve and move on. (Oh and be somewhat emotional about it, but you all know that.) These events were meant to change me in a big way.

In June of 2009, my Uncle took his own life. The gut retching reality to this fact is that nothing you say is comforting, nothing you do feels like it is enough and no questions can be answered. The tragic and simple acceptance of what has occurred is only that you must not be angry. You must love and understand more deeply than you’ve ever thought possible. My Aunt, then tried to take her life several times in her own grief. I was on the phone for weeks, days then by the hour even up to a few weeks ago while she was in intensive care after over-dosing. I just kept grasping for the words. I never found them. I only found myself sitting in silence on my sofa every night wondering what could possibly happen next.

You should never wonder what could happen next. No good can come of it. While I was trying to keep a cool calm demeanor at work and with friends the next layer was to present itself in a cruel way. In December of 2009, someone I trusted and admired took the all to cliché opportunity to make the move to hit on me during and after our company holiday party. Blaming it all on beer of course. Becoming the worse nightmare I had ever imagined as my personal and now career life both crumble together.

I’m not able to think of myself as well… attractive enough to warrant such advances. Well, it did happen and it made me sick, seriously. That night I actually threw up while retelling the story. I was angry. I was to give up what little I had?? walk out the door and not look back??

Oh hell no. I took the power back. I filed a formal complaint. I left the group he leads and I have my dignity and self intact. I made a clear statement that I do not and will not put up with toxic bullshit. It took me a week to build the courage. It’s taken me two months to feel like I did the right thing. I am the woman who looks him in the eye from time to time to let him know… not me, not ever you disgusting loathsome pig.

I am finally okay to acknowledge that some things are lost. Really lost. You get these huge EXIT signs from the universe and I have in the past ignored them and fought so hard to stay. Eventually I just got kicked out and it hurt so much. But this time… I SEE the exit sign, find the RIGHT way to exit and then proceed to my new destination with self intact. So…I’ve decided no more this is next… but just asking ‘what’s next?. Feeling the freedom to see what comes along. What makes me happy? And then going toward that happiness.

So guess what I figured out?? I am proud to be ME for the first time in my life. I mean REALLY happy for myself! I’ve realized I have dealt with some shit. And I actually sort of well came out… successful. Damn if that mid-west guilt won’t let me be happy for myself sometimes. But I am dusting myself off for the last time and saying it loudly. I DID THIS. I worked hard. I got to this place. And I got knocked down a lot. I got pushed around. I even got canned a couple of times. But I am still here doing what I wanted and hoping still to make a difference and going forward. I even helped on some significant stuff along the way. I am even ready to take credit for some of it! I’ve got some good attributes. I follow through. I’m kind to people. I also smile a lot and give hugs. I say I love you. I return as many calls as I can. I think of everyone often and I miss my friends more than they’ll know. I have a pile of Christmas cards that you’re all still getting when I buy some stamps. Because I mean it. I’m sincere. And I don’t give up easily. (smile)

Oh… and an update.

So my expectations for a Valentine didn’t pan out. Who cares right? Because most importantly my birthday has been awesome! I had an early birthday dinner date that was fun and even got along with all my friends. And today he’s been charming and wonderful and did I tell you he helped me get a Wii for my birthday?? YIPPEE!! He’s even making me dinner tonight. I guess that makes up for the amazing mussels I made him. We make food for each other all the time and I just got pissy because it was Valentine’s Day. Damn I need to get back into some perspective. Things are WAY better than they have been. Why did I pressure that damn day?? Stupid estrogen. Thanks Cupid you’re not so bad after all. (That is when you haven’t been drinking the hard alcohol.)

That V-Day or most appropriately called "Vampire Day"

So since it was Valentine’s Day I thought I should write something up. After all if you’re going to title a blog after such a hideous holiday I suppose one should say something.


Updates

Cupid is still crashing at my place. Eating my food and drinking my wine. He’s gotten really apathetic about finding a job. I left him on the sofa when I went up to Winter Park snowboarding for the weekend. I would have brought him, because he did deserve a little fun during his time off… but I figured he would just get me into trouble. Cupid tends to get overexcited when there is a lot of action going on, especially with all the uber cute snowboarders on the hill for the weekend. Actually, I think I should have brought him.

A few days before I left for the mountains I had a couple emails from the pit of of the eX-files. It wasn’t horrible. Nice notes from the depths of their bleeding hearts wondering why the hell they ever messed up and left such an amazing woman as myself. HA I jest… and cry a little.

No, the eX-file emails were actually more like, Email One from Puppy Love: “Hey, I saw on Linked In that your company got bought… Congratulations, how’s that going for you?” This was obviously a ploy to get in touch AGAIN like he seems to every three to four months. Then apologize for ‘losing touch’ every three to four months. Yes, I responded… eh. Cupid made me. Okay, I just responded because I honestly have nothing better to do. I told The Pup that I was good and that working with 44,000 people has its perks. He wanted to catch up but I told him that I was on my way up the mountain for a few days. He suggested we get together when I got back.

This guy I should actually name Confounded. Mostly because he doesn’t know what he wants. Hmmm. A pattern! UDA may have the market on architectural pattern books. Maybe I have a niche in behavioral patterns of dating men in their thirties?? No. Seriously, I realize that would be a book of mythology and conjecture paramount to the writings of brilliant Greek philosophers. Eh…

Email Two from My Lost Love: “I’m listening to Tangled Up in Blue”. Yes, the song has significant meaning between myself and that guy who brought down the house in the blog titled – Larger than Lifesize. *sigh*. I wish I could stop missing him.

So my weekend was okay. I wasn't expecting miracles. But then again... I was. I didn’t have a Valentine as the one I had hoped might be in a generous mood. Alas, he was not. And made it an extreme point to drill it into me that he had promised a friend who was sad about not having a Valentine that he would be hers for the day and that I should get over it immediately. So that’s that… I'll let you know when I get over it.

Yes, I love punishment so I made him dinner anyway (my delicious mussels... lucky jerk) and then I went home without so much as ‘thanks’. I watched 4 episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer picturing his face on every kill (cause that’s what made me feel better).

Last year, my friend Kelli and I saw Twilight so I think this is a good pattern too. Blood, heartache and soulless creatures. I can handle that so much easier than getting blown off.


Cupid held my hand cause he just knew better.