Today, an opportunity fell into my lap, and I found myself taken aback by it…suspicious and wondering if I should accept. It’s a solid opportunity, but it depends largely on what I make of it…little risk, but huge potential…possibly the solution to many of the problems I’ve been facing lately.
But I still paused and fumbled it around in my head a bit. I talked to a friend and felt the answer come. He agreed, too. Of course, I should. Why not? What do I have to lose? Pretty much nothing.
I still haven’t accepted it, but I will. Tomorrow. I’m still letting it sit with me.
It’s apparently gonna be one of those weeks.
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Lately, I’ve been noticing the similarities between careers and love for me. I don’t know that most people can draw such conclusions, but there are lots of metaphorical opportunities found in these spaces for me. I’ve always been one to think of my career as my purpose. I’ve always taken it quite seriously…perhaps, too seriously. I’ve always worked harder than anyone I know to realize my career aspirations. This aspect of my personality comes from my immigrant grandparents and my own feeling of duty. It also comes from my competitive nature and my drive to do more. When I was younger, I was always underestimated. Everyone always called me smart, but they also understood the challenges I faced and figured these things were insurmountable. But all they saw was a shy, polite girl. They didn’t know how stubborn or feisty I could be. Now, I’m known for being independent and a perfectionist. People get out of my way when I set my sights on something. They know that I am a force to be reckoned with, and they should be afraid if they cross me.
I’ve always had high standards for myself. I’ve always been hard on myself — harder than anyone else on my own actions. I have always wanted to do everything, all at once, and not waste any time. I get really impatient with myself, and I always feel like someone is taking advantage of me. I feel like I have something to prove and an agenda to tick off.
The career thing has been such a challenge for me. I’ve always had lots of options, but options that felt like non-options…things that made me feel trapped…things that felt like failure. I’ve always felt unhappy. I’ve always felt like I was giving more than I was getting.
I take love seriously, too. I tend to date just one man at a time. Or if I am dating a few men, I tend to focus more on one. Or I won’t date at all, but I will flirt and consider people. While I am often the one to lighten things, most men I know think I’m quite intense and passionate. This is not to be mistaken with pushy, but when I set my sights on someone, I usually can get his attention. I have been told that I’m easy to love, but it seems like I am also quite challenging. I don’t roll over easily. I have strong opinions. I need many things, and I tend to be someone who instigates change. When I’m in love with someone, I put a lot of time into that relationship. I put a lot of myself into it. When I am in something, I am completely in it. And I am quite purposeful about what that means. I work hard at making things work, at the fine art of staying in love with someone.
I think men underestimate me or, perhaps, they misjudge me. I think they have a hard time believing that who I am is really who I am. When I tell them — show them — who I am, they sugarcoat it to some degree. And then, I end up disappointing them because they convinced themselves that I’m someone else. Or, perhaps, they are just seeing my potential. I dunno. All I know is that, eventually, they give up on me.
I’ve pondered, for a long time, what it is about me that makes people leave me. It’s not just men I’ve loved. It’s family. It’s friends. It’s everyone. I still don’t really know. I doubt I’ll ever find out. It probably has less to do with just me and more to do with the alchemy of an “us.” But I do know that I have my issues and my crap, like everyone else. And so, I keep working on my own life. I keep living for myself. And I keep bumping into someones who never really become anyone. Emotions often fall into laps. Love is often just something we get stuck doing because there’s no one else to challenge its comfort.
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Last night, something hit me. It was this feeling of sadness. No real reason for it…just an “I miss her” thing. It made me want to cry, so I did. People tried to say the things people say to make it better, and I felt like snarling back at them because such things sometimes make me angry. It’s why I usually don’t cry in front of people. I don’t need someone to hold me or tell me anything. I don’t need to be fixed. Sometimes, I just need to cry and say it sucks. Nothing will make this better. Nothing will fix this. And it’s okay if I say it and hear nothing at all in return. Sometimes, I need an empty abyss to throw myself at. But I didn’t snarl at them because I knew they meant well.
When I get sad like that, I tend to get nostalgic. I used to blog on MySpazz. I decided not to anymore, but could not close my account due to stupid reasons and ended up defriending everyone and going completely private. I still have hundreds of blog entries on that site that only I can read, and every so often, I try to move them to this site. It’s time consuming and means I have to read those blogs to categorize them properly.
I decided to do this yesterday…which is like the worst thing in the world for me to do when I’m sad. But I did…and I found myself knee-deep in the me that existed in-relationship.
I was struck by many things, but the biggest thing was that I seem to be a more boring, less alive version of myself. I feel a bit half-hearted, honestly. Dowdy. I used to be so interesting and funny. I used to say things that meant something. I don’t feel like I do anymore. It just reminded me of how much I miss the old me.
I found an old blog entry and was kind of struck by how similar things are. But the difference is that I feel a little less hopeful. I feel more laidback…more content to wait.
I’ve been thinking about whether something is better than nothing. It started with a conversation the other day about the healthcare bill, but it blitzed into a full-blown examination of everything.
In my career, I’ve learned the hard way that you have to pay your dues before you earn the everything that you want. And, even when you have paid those dues, it’s often the case that things don’t happen the way you want them to. So, often, we have to settle for some something in order to get our everything. But this year has also taught me that losing everything and having nothing can get you on the hard-sought path to everything.
I’ll admit, I’m still at a loss. But I kind of think that not having something and finding the way to your everything is the better road. Perhaps, that’s just the nun in me speaking.
A friend of mine recently noted that my blogs about love tend to end the same way — like, perhaps, I’m trying to convince myself that I’m on the right path…or that I’m doing the right thing. I dunno. Maybe.
All I do know is that, right now, I’m okay with waiting for the everything I deserve even if it means a big load of nothing. I am often stupid and sad and lonely. And I fill my cup when I can with those that I can. But I am not going to compromise anymore. Sometimes, the costs seem innocent enough. Maybe we just don’t know the whole story. Maybe, it’s worth sitting in for a bit longer.
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