Detaching from my husband is proving to be nearly impossible.
You guys. SERIOUSLY.
I keep finding myself feeling comfortable, feeling love, feeling at ease.
FEELING is a dangerous thing, this I know. Feeling equates hurting. It's written somewhere in my Math: Addiction Edition textbook.
I teach a woman piano lessons every Thursday afternoon. She's old enough to be my mother, and she gives sound and gentle advice in a voice so quiet I have to lean in toward her to absorb her words.
"What are you doing for your birthday tomorrow?" she asked me.
"Oh, I don't know. Nothing... well, I don't want to even do NOTHING. I just don't want it to happen at all. I'm just too tired, I guess. Last year I worked so hard to make sure I enjoyed my own day. I gave myself a pedicure, I made my own fancy cake, I made my own dinner... It just seems like a lot to bother with. My husband wasn't able to be around, so I took matters into my own hands. Just thinking about it makes me tired."
She nodded. She paused.
"If you're feeling any degree of hurt because of your birthday, it won't be fun to face it. But you should. Because just pretending it's not happening is denial and denial is a very bad place, Alicia."
This woman is from Insightful City, USA. I ain't kiddin. Or maybe Perception City?
Yes! Yes, I am in denial that today is my special day. Last year, I MADE it special for myself because I wanted to prove to ME that I could make ME happy on my own! And I did! I was so proud and exhausted. This year, I don't want to think about it. I don't want to celebrate it. I want to pretend that it's just August 16th, 2013... the day after the 15th and the day before the 17th. Just a notch on the calendar of time.
"If you could go somewhere off by yourself and leave all means of contact behind and honor yourself without worrying about anything else except YOU, do you think that would be beneficial?" she asked.
Yes, yes, yes! I could let go of expectations from others. I could honor myself with some self-care. What a good idea!
Letting go of expectations is a wonderful, safe thing. It shields me from so much hurt. It helps keep me from some degree of FEELING.
As I sat in the car with my husband a few days ago, we were laughing and joking and I FELT safe and happy and love.
I immediately balked at FEELING and I edited his name in my phone. He was no longer known by the sweety-sweet nickname I gave him when we were dating. He was now simply just known by his first name.
When he found out, he was hurt. Not so hurt he moped or cried or resented me.
But he was hurt.
He kept his hurt to himself for a few days, but my husband wears his emotions on his sleeve. He always has. It didn't take long for him to confess he was feeling hurt and why.
It wasn't just the name-changing in the phone. It was a few other small things I'd said and done that were along the same lines.
"I get that you're feeling the need for independence, and I get that. I respect that. I understand. But when things happen like this, it feels like you're just grasping at straws to find your independence."
He wasn't being snide or mean.
But he was being right.
I am grasping at straws.
I am feeling fear and freaking out when I feel close to him, so I batten down the hatch and do something wild and crazy like... edit his contact info in my phone.
And it's okay for me to freak out and panic. I might even go so far as to say that it's NATURAL.
I don't understand why I'm so pulled in by him. He has caused me so much pain and hurt and and and... AND AND AND!!!
So I do something to wall me off a bit more.
Right now, it's okay. Right now, I'm in a limbo of watching, observing, waiting. And I am doing hurtful things not TO HURT HIM but to protect ME from FEELING.
I'm grasping at straws.
In so doing, I am hurting my husband.
That's also okay... because I'm not setting out with intention to hurt.
And hurt equates opportunity for proper healing... that's written in my Math: Atonement Edition textbook.
So I'll take some time to honor myself and allow myself to grasp at straws if I feel the need.
Which I very well might.
Because my husband did the dishes and had the kids make me birthday cards while I had a girl night last night AND delivered me a professional bouquet of my favorite flowers. It was spritzed with the wonderful glitter from the Flower Shop I love so much.
and scheduled me an appointment at a fancy salon for tomorrow.
None of this is actually out of character for him... in our early years, he used to go ALL out for my birthdays, something I'm not accustomed to at all. Birthdays were never a big deal at my house. EVER.
Guys. I want to slobber all over him AND tear his eyes out.
What is HAPPENING?!
Happy #28 to me?