I'm on a path of discovery. I'm the kind of girl who has always been happy to live inside a bubble. I desperately feared change, abandonment, being alone. I spent much of my life defining myself by this group, or that group, morphing myself into what I thought my "friends" wanted me to be. What I failed to realize, most of the time, was that anyone who wanted me to change that drastically, probably wasn't truly my friend. I fluttered along the fringes, trying desperately to fit in, to be someone cool. For the most part, I never made it. And if I did, I never noticed, too focused on where I wanted to be to really feel secure in my place and friends. I spent hours, over analyzing every little detail of every conversation, every phone call not immediately returned. I lived in a constant state of fear. Fear of not being good enough, smart enough, daring enough, wild enough for the people I had chosen.
Along the way, I chanced upon a couple people who truly changed my life. The first was Jenni. My first true best friend, and the one person I was more terrified of losing than I was of dying. Jenni loved me, for myself. She encouraged me to find myself, to stand on my own, but I was young and afraid. Then came the day all that changed. I was only 16 when I lost her. She was in a near fatal car accident that left her in a coma for months. Three days after her accident, we over heard the doctors telling her mother there was no hope. Her closest friends sat down together, and made a suicide pact. If she died, so did we. I was the one who went in to tell her. I sat down with her, held her hand, and told her she wasn't allowed to die. Amazingly, it worked. Her next scans showed brain activity, and weeks later, she "woke" up. Only it wasn't the Jenni we knew. She was there, in her mind, but her body was so broken that to this day she still has not regained control. She lives in a hospital, unable to move, feed herself, or even speak. It's not the life I wished for her, and as time passed, I discovered a great guilt in telling her not to die.
Years went by, and my fear of abandonment grew. I clung to Jenni for a long time, trying to be the rock that would drag her back to herself. Eventually, even I saw that I was waiting and working for something that would never come. To preserve my own sanity, I walked away, back to the fringes of life. I wandered on the edge of many groups, wearing the pain of my loss like a badge of honor and a shield. I found myself unable to really trust anyone. I graduated high school, started college. I found a friend in college, but as much as I tried, never really felt the same closeness I craved. I dated a few guys, trying to find a connection that way. I failed, miserably, always wanting more than they could give me. I clutched too tight, was too possessive, too demanding. Then, Matthew found me.
We had traveled around similar circles for years. He was interested in me, but I never even knew of his existence. Then, some guys, friends of his, invited me over for a movie. Matt and I hooked up that night, exchanged names and phone numbers somewhere around dawn as I ran home to sneak in before my mom woke up. We dated for a while, then split. Life was way too complicated to hold a relationship. Somehow, I still found myself drawn to him as a friend. We grew closer, and closer until everyone could see it but us. I clung to the idea of being friends, not willing to risk losing the closeness we had by dating again. Eventually, he wore me down, and we've been together ever since. We were married 11 years ago. He's still my best friend.
Three years ago, I almost lost him. He developed a serious heart condition, and then almost died due to a severe allergic reaction to some medication. Our lives have been forever changed. We went from an income level of over 100k a year, down to 16k. We moved in with his parents as we waited for his Social Security to be approved. And then, we did something unthinkable to me when times were good. We made the decision to uproot our family, and move from Southern California 1000 miles away to small town Oregon. We wanted a chance at a better life for our kids. A place we could buy a house, and live comfortably in a place of our own.
Four months ago, my little bubble was stretched beyond belief. Since the decision was made to move, I've been systematically working to drive the fear from my life. I started taking kung fu classes before we moved, trying to find some confidence in myself. And last week, did something totally crazy. I bought a bike, to learn how to ride. Yup, I'm a 33 year old woman, who has never learned how to ride a bicycle. I've started dying my hair wild and crazy colors. And right before I moved, one of my very best friends introduced me to SG, and helped me on my journey of self discovery more than she could ever know. She's the third person I've ever found, who likes me just for myself. We click, on so many levels cause we've traveled similar, and yet drastically different roads. I only wish I'd found her sooner, had more time to spend before we left. With her I found something I thought I'd lost forever when I lost Jenni. The kindred spirit who could look into my soul and like what she saw. I adore her, and miss her. But I know, whenever I go to visit, she'll be there. And after surprising her shooting at the club this last visit, I know she's always happy to see me.
So I just wanted to say thank you danial. I miss you.
Along the way, I chanced upon a couple people who truly changed my life. The first was Jenni. My first true best friend, and the one person I was more terrified of losing than I was of dying. Jenni loved me, for myself. She encouraged me to find myself, to stand on my own, but I was young and afraid. Then came the day all that changed. I was only 16 when I lost her. She was in a near fatal car accident that left her in a coma for months. Three days after her accident, we over heard the doctors telling her mother there was no hope. Her closest friends sat down together, and made a suicide pact. If she died, so did we. I was the one who went in to tell her. I sat down with her, held her hand, and told her she wasn't allowed to die. Amazingly, it worked. Her next scans showed brain activity, and weeks later, she "woke" up. Only it wasn't the Jenni we knew. She was there, in her mind, but her body was so broken that to this day she still has not regained control. She lives in a hospital, unable to move, feed herself, or even speak. It's not the life I wished for her, and as time passed, I discovered a great guilt in telling her not to die.
Years went by, and my fear of abandonment grew. I clung to Jenni for a long time, trying to be the rock that would drag her back to herself. Eventually, even I saw that I was waiting and working for something that would never come. To preserve my own sanity, I walked away, back to the fringes of life. I wandered on the edge of many groups, wearing the pain of my loss like a badge of honor and a shield. I found myself unable to really trust anyone. I graduated high school, started college. I found a friend in college, but as much as I tried, never really felt the same closeness I craved. I dated a few guys, trying to find a connection that way. I failed, miserably, always wanting more than they could give me. I clutched too tight, was too possessive, too demanding. Then, Matthew found me.
We had traveled around similar circles for years. He was interested in me, but I never even knew of his existence. Then, some guys, friends of his, invited me over for a movie. Matt and I hooked up that night, exchanged names and phone numbers somewhere around dawn as I ran home to sneak in before my mom woke up. We dated for a while, then split. Life was way too complicated to hold a relationship. Somehow, I still found myself drawn to him as a friend. We grew closer, and closer until everyone could see it but us. I clung to the idea of being friends, not willing to risk losing the closeness we had by dating again. Eventually, he wore me down, and we've been together ever since. We were married 11 years ago. He's still my best friend.
Three years ago, I almost lost him. He developed a serious heart condition, and then almost died due to a severe allergic reaction to some medication. Our lives have been forever changed. We went from an income level of over 100k a year, down to 16k. We moved in with his parents as we waited for his Social Security to be approved. And then, we did something unthinkable to me when times were good. We made the decision to uproot our family, and move from Southern California 1000 miles away to small town Oregon. We wanted a chance at a better life for our kids. A place we could buy a house, and live comfortably in a place of our own.
Four months ago, my little bubble was stretched beyond belief. Since the decision was made to move, I've been systematically working to drive the fear from my life. I started taking kung fu classes before we moved, trying to find some confidence in myself. And last week, did something totally crazy. I bought a bike, to learn how to ride. Yup, I'm a 33 year old woman, who has never learned how to ride a bicycle. I've started dying my hair wild and crazy colors. And right before I moved, one of my very best friends introduced me to SG, and helped me on my journey of self discovery more than she could ever know. She's the third person I've ever found, who likes me just for myself. We click, on so many levels cause we've traveled similar, and yet drastically different roads. I only wish I'd found her sooner, had more time to spend before we left. With her I found something I thought I'd lost forever when I lost Jenni. The kindred spirit who could look into my soul and like what she saw. I adore her, and miss her. But I know, whenever I go to visit, she'll be there. And after surprising her shooting at the club this last visit, I know she's always happy to see me.
So I just wanted to say thank you danial. I miss you.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
Sounds like you are on a good path and in a good place.
Best of luck with your bicycle.