reflections of a broken heart mending…
So, new realizations. I’ve realized I seem to have a thing for narcissists, not just my husband but a LOT of the guys I’ve dated, including my last boyfriend. I’m still pinpointing the issues that lead to this, but one major one I have managed to pin down is that I confuse “love bombing” with genuine love. And I know exactly why… I was raised in a (mild) cult where “love bombing” was the norm… not to mention I never picked up the social survival skills that most people pick up in childhood because I wasn’t allowed to associate with anyone but other cult members, so I was raised with the idea that as long as someone was another cult member I could be best friends with them if I wanted; they were automatically trustworthy. Figuring out who to trust in the “real world” isn’t quite that easy. And not only have I picked the wrong people to trust a lot of times, I’ve also trusted people too quickly and made trust an automatic given rather than an earned right.
The only thing is, even though I logically know my last boyfriend was more than likely a narcissist too and I dodged a major bullet by backing off as soon as I started getting the weird feeling that he had issues that no one could reasonably be expected to help or live with and be happy (well, blasting me for not supporting him before he ever even indicated he needed support to begin with and had refused it in the past when I offered, and giving me grief over putting more importance on my problems than his when my problems involved my four year old son and his problems only involved him alone… yeah, that kind of broke the “magic spell” I was under… you don’t blame me for YOUR actions, and you certainly don’t demand priority over my own son and/or complain when I indicate that his involvement makes my problems a lot more important to me than yours). And seeing my son’s heart broken by that guy while he bitched me out for having the balls to ask him to just go to a pancake breakfast at my son’s school as his role model because when asked my son said HE was his role model and the guy claimed he wanted to be close to my son and I didn’t want to crush that… yeah, that just sealed the deal on me NEVER wanting to get back with him again. Lesson one to single parent dating: when you’re a mom, any guy that wants you is going to act like he’s interested in being your kid’s best friend, even when he doesn’t give a crap about your kid or even you for that matter. As a mom, it’s my responsibility to protect my son from assholes like that so he doesn’t grow up thinking that’s the way men normally act. I’ll admit, I don’t really know *how* to protect him from assholes like that at this point, but I do know that I don’t really plan on carrying on any more relationships until I figure it out.
I’ve also been thinking about what happened with that neighbor. I definitely need to get out of this freaking neighborhood. I’ve already put in applications to be placed on the waiting list at several places. I really wish I could live in peace in a black community without this kind of drama always unfolding. If this was SC, it would be a different story entirely… in SC, I’m black. In FL, I’m white. Ugh.
Thankfully though, other than the occasional clash with the ex or random crap like what happened with that neighbor, my life is blissfully drama-free. It hasn’t been easy. I pretty much had to make up my mind that my happiness and no one else’s came first, and stick to that decision no matter what it meant doing to keep it in play… even if it meant ditching friends, family members…
In fact, I have ditched every single one of my family members on my mom’s side with the exception of an uncle, my own mom, and my grandma. Interestingly enough, my grandma told me she didn’t blame me for doing it. She said, “I’m sorry, Jonquil, but we have got a crazy, messed up family… that’s probably the only way you’re going to be able to have peace.” I don’t know why they think that I am supposed to care about their opinions on my life decisions and beliefs… with the exception of those three aforementioned people, none of them even know me, much less have ever actually been there for me when I needed them, and certainly none of them have accepted me as an almost 30 year old adult and respected my right to live my life as I see fit as such. How on earth is someone supposed to care about the opinions of people that are like that, even if they ARE related by blood? And in a way, I’ve been given an unfair hand… while my cousins are allowed to act like their daddy, I’ve always been expected to act like my mom’s family, even though no one in the family has ever been able to compare me in looks or in personality to anyone else in the family (because I look like my dad’s mom and I act like my dad).
I must admit, I’m pretty much digging the single status now, especially now that I’ve slimmed back down. There is some immense pleasure that comes from seeing some guy almost get in a car wreck from straining to check me out after he’s passed and being able to think to myself, “Ha! You can’t have this! :P” I’m starting to see the advantages of being 30 over being 20. One major one is having a much better sense of style & beauty. At 20, I was still experimenting and trying to figure out what looked good on me. At 30, I know exactly what I look best in and exactly how to create the effect I want. And of course, looking about 10 years younger than I actually am doesn’t hurt. 😉 Neither does having bigger boobs, wider hips, and a flatter stomach from having a child, LOL.
Since I quit smoking, my lungs have returned back to normal function, and I’m gaining my singing abilities back. I’m considering getting back in to acting, too. Not really as a pursuit of a career like when I was younger, but just as a fun hobby. I miss goofing off with improv games and being able to dress up and pretend I’m different characters. And I miss singing and dancing to Broadway-style music.
For some reason my photography skills have really taken flight all of a sudden, as well. I don’t know if it’s because I’m taking more care and putting more thought in to the shots I grab, or if it’s the fact I’ve started mixing about 4 different editing programs to gain the effects I want. Or maybe, finally, after 10+ years, I’m getting my creativity fully unblocked. If I start sketching and/or painting and/or sculpting and/or writing poetry/stories again, I’ll know for sure I’m back on track.
Meanwhile… I’m just enjoying life and rolling with the punches. Still got drama, still got problems, but “there’s always problems, and there’s always solutions.” (Weeds) I’m not sweating it any more… I’m a cat… I always land on my feet, and I always know even without knowing. <3
And now here’s a pic of the final results… 9 months of strict dieting/exercise and I have gone from a size 20 to a size 9, and almost an 8 now…