Reminiscing About Life Lessons I Learned. Alternate title: This is SOOOOOOO Not a Wordless Wednesday Post

On their website, Apple suggests that one of the nifty features of an Ipod is "rediscovering your own music." I have found this to be true. I loaded up a bunch of cds that I had laying around, never having the time or inclination to listen to them individually, created some playlists, and viola! Practically instant time-travel.

I found myself particularly sentimental over this song by Rascal Flatts. (Yes, it's country, I'm sorry, I have a weakness for good country music. But please give it a listen anyway...humor me, people.)



I haven't heard that song in a long time. And it still makes me weepy, and hopeful at the same time. Here's the story.

People have told me that they respect me for being a confident and self-assured person. I was not always that way. Far from it. I was never very popular. I had self-esteem issues out the wazoo. As a teen and young adult I felt very unsure of my identity (yeah, who doesn't?) and it took me a long time and a lot of heart ache to find myself. Most of the angsty issues that plagued me revolved around wanting a specific future...husband, home, kids. But, I was at war with myself at the same time, discovering feminist ideology, trying to become independent and less needy. I was breaking free from the values and mores that I was raised with, looking to find some peace with having my own ideas but not sure how to remake myself and still make my family happy. Basically, I was a mess from 19-26. I will try to pare down those 7 years for you and hit the highlights.

I was raised in a very fundamentally Christian family. We went to church at least 3 times a week. Both of my parents, in fact, worked full-time at the church, so, really, we were there much more often. Needless to say, I was brought up with some pretty strict and "traditional" values and rules. Abstinence until marriage. No drinking, smoking, drugs, gambling, dancing. No swearing, no "worldly" music. Purity. Modesty, Salvation. Now I'm certainly not saying that there is anything inherently wrong with any of these values. But I probably don't need to tell you that they can be suffocating. Stifling. I was pretty devout as a teen. I was the definition of a "good girl." I had ONE boyfriend in high school, and we didn't even kiss. Oh, and I was pretty boy-crazy, too. I didn't know what to do with 'em, but I wanted a bunch of 'em (one at a time) and made myself heart-sick over it constantly. I went off to Bible College at 18. Way out in Minnesota. Very far away from home. I was studying music, but in BC you have to take bible classes as well (duh.) I had been struggling with bulimia since I was 15, a HUGE secret that I hid from everyone I knew. That I was absolutely TORTURED over because A): it was a sin, my body was not my own but God's and how could I hurt/damage/hate something that was God's? and B): I was a singer and throwing up is not exactly easy on the vocal chords. I vividly remember purging, drinking some water, and desperately doing vocal exercises to "test" my voice to make sure it was ok. Away at Bible College, my world fell apart. I was so far away from home, from my family and church friends. I went from a big fish at home (at church, I was pretty well known for my singing) to a tiny fish in a vast ocean. I didn't know ANYONE. I made one really good friend there, but, to say I was overwhelmed, scared, and lost is a huge understatement. My bulimia got worse. Much worse. I won't gross you out with the details, but I was purging A. Lot. Anywhere I could. Anyway I could. And I was terribly homesick. I ended up flaking out and decided to go home at Christmas break. I hit a wall 2 weeks before finals and ended up in a huge fight with my friend over my eating disorder. She tried to get me help, I got seriously pissed off...long story short I left the school at Christmas and never looked back. My parents had no idea the mess I was at this point. When I got home, I was still lost. I had not one clue what to do with myself. I think I basically wanted to go back to being who I was in high school, but I had already changed so much. I couldn't find a job. I wasn't in school. I was still dealing with this ED. I was in a bad place.

Eventually, I found a job. And I met a boy. And I enrolled at community college. I began turning farther and farther away from the person I was raised to be, and consequently, from my family. I stopped going to church. I had sex. I began drinking, listening to whatever I wanted to. It was liberating in a way, but also terrifying. I was highly conflicted over all of it, had no idea who I was anymore, or who I wanted to be. I had basically stopped spending time with my parents, even though I was living at home. I spent all of my time at my boyfriend's house and with his family. I built my world there. I allowed that to become my identity. We dated for 4 1/2 years, but it was on and off. He broke my heart on several occasions, but I continued to stick around. When we were "off," I would still be there, hanging out with his family. I really had no where else to go. And they were supportive of me, basically thought he was a jerk for hurting me. And then we would be "on" again, and I would convince myself that some day he would grow up and we would get married and everything would work out. We both applied to Arizona State University after graduating BCC and were accepted. We were going to move out there together and get an off-campus apartment. I made a big stand with my parents about it, as, of course, we would be "living in sin." Surprisingly, they said little about it. Two weeks before we were to move out to AZ, he broke up with me. Again. I was all packed and ready to go. I couldn't go out on my own, I didn't have the money. He went. I found an apartment in Endwell, got a cat and moved out. And tried to deal with my broken heart. And I still spent most of my time with his family. He didn't last long on his own in AZ and moved back home before the semester was over. The cycle between us resumed because I just could not let him go. And I was beginning to realize what that said about me. The bulimia came back in full force. I finally admitted that I needed to deal with that and went into counseling. It helped, but I still struggled. I enrolled at Binghamton University and worked full-time to afford my apartment and school. Eventually, finally, I was strong enough to actually break it off with him myself (it was pretty mutual by that point) and begin to move on. But, I still stuck with his family.

I began dating a guy from work. He was older, divorced with two kids. I was conflicted about the relationship from day one. I was never really sure that I wanted to date him. I broke up with him repeatedly, but he would always talk me back into trying again. And I felt so guilty for hurting him (not to mention his kids) that I went back. Again and again. He proposed to me after about 1 month of dating (in which time I had broken up with him at least 3 times). He was going on a cruise with friends and asked me as he was leaving. He told me not to answer till he got back. I knew I had to say "no". But the idea that I could actually say "yes" and get married, be married, have a house, have a family...it was enticing. But I did say "no" when he got back. He simply told me he would ask again someday. About a year later (and a few more breakup cycles), he did. And by that point, I was so worn down by him, I said "yes". Even though, I knew in my heart I didn't want to marry him. Even though I wasn't passionately in love with him, even though I KNEW I was SETTLING for ok. Not great, not even good, but ok. It would make him happy. Through all this, I was still spending a lot of time with my ex-boyfriend's family. I really hadn't created any other space for myself. They were my family. They knew me so well. They supported me. But they held me back in some ways, as well. And I still didn't have much of a relationship with my own family. I was continuing to deal with the disappointment of not being the person they hoped I would be. No one I knew thought it was a good idea for me to get married to this guy. But by then, I had told people to leave me alone and let me make my own decisions so many times, that they did. No one said anything. Not that it is in anyway their fault, and I wouldn't have listened anyway, but no one tried to stop me from making the biggest mistake of my life. So, I got married.

Four months later, I left. I had met a guy, but that wasn't the point. He and I spent a lot of time talking and he helped me realize that I was completely unhappy, miserable really. I had made a huge mistake. My husband found out about some emails between this other guy and I and accused me of having an affair. I wasn't. But it gave me the chance to get out. I went home from work one night, told him I had made a mistake, I was sorry, but I had to leave. I went to my ex-boyfriend's family that night, of course, and stayed there for a week while I looked for an apartment. I remember my mom called me that night...she found me, I hadn't called her. I was shocked, scared of what she would think of me. I just left my husband after being married only four months. He was accusing me of things I hadn't done, saying I was an awful person. And I felt like an awful person. But, to my surprise, my mom supported me. A few weeks later, she and I had a long talk, and she told me she agreed with my decision to get a divorce. She didn't want to see me miserable for the rest of my life because of a mistake. Even though it is very much against her beliefs to break that kind of commitment. She still supported me. That was the beginning of my ability to heal the relationship with her. I was 26 when I got married, and divorced. For my 27th birthday, I got a tattoo to symbolize the lessons that I learned that year. Be true to yourself. Don't live your life just to make someone else happy. Listen to your heart. Be your own person. Everyone (even me) deserves to be PASSIONATELY in love with the person they are with. Never settle for less than that. And I spent a lot of time listening to "I'm Moving On" by Rascal Flatts as it was pretty much EXACTLY where I was in life.

Two months after I left, I met John. He came in for an interview with me at the agency I worked for (I've met a lot of guys at work, what can I say?) and I hired him. We began hanging out casually with some other friends. I was dating someone else briefly, and had no idea that John was interested in me. But he waited, developed a friendship with me, and eventually, when the time was right, asked me out. I didn't even realize it was a date. He asked me to go out for coffee and hear a jazz band. I assumed it was a friendly thing...after all, John is HOT, he is waaaaaaay out of my league. There were many women I knew who all had crushes on him. About half way through the night, I thought to myself, "you know, this feels an awful lot like a date. This can't be a date. He's not interested in me. No way." But it WAS a date! Yay!! I fell in love with John, PASSIONATELY, fully, wholeheartedly in love with him. It was so different than any of my previous relationships. And I finally was able to pull away from my ex-boyfriend's family. They are good people. And I am grateful to them, always, for loving me and accepting me, and supporting me in many ways as I found myself. But it was really time to move on. I needed to spread my own wings (sorry for that tacky cliche) and create my own life. And I did. John and I have a beautiful, solid relationship, built on mutual respect, love, laughter. He really, truly is my soul mate. And when I think that I could have missed the window of opportunity to be with him because I was somewhere else, making someone else happy while making myself miserable, it makes me sad. But I didn't go down that path. I reversed, chose the other path. And to quote Robert Frost, "it has made all the difference." Life was waiting for me, and I finally found it. I found confidence, too, by learning (the hard way) to trust myself, to listen to and follow my heart.

That's my long story. But I wanted to share it, because I think there are some that can relate to it, can see where I'm coming from. I am so much more at peace with myself these days. It feels good to know who I am, to know I am not compromising myself for someone else. I have made peace with my regrets, too. Moving on...