Six Things I've Learned in My Six-Month Relationship... So Far

My anniversary flowers!

It seems a little bit silly to be writing a post about the fact that my relationship has lasted as long as it has. In certain ways, it shouldn't really matter - if it isn't a year, or two, or six, it doesn't necessarily feel like a huge achievement. But it is definitely one of those milestone things... especially for a girl like me, who usually has a relationship timeline of around three or four months.

Things always happened and former relationships imploded on themselves in a matter of months. Once you start getting to know somebody, you naturally want to get more involve, and if the other person is not at the same place, you wind up at a standstill, and nothing good can come of it. You pick up, dust yourself off, and try again. Trial and error.

From day one, Mike has been incredibly patient. The week we started talking and decided to get into this whirlwind of a relationship was the week I found out about my melanoma... so needless to say, and not to take a page out of Fight Club, but he met me at a very strange time in my life... a la Marla Singer. He has taught me a lot of things, including that it really doesn't matter how much makeup I wear or how bad my breath smells in the morning.. he loves me the same either way. He has taught me that it is okay to just be me, unscripted and unrestrained... and he is okay with that. I love being able to love that way.

So, what I've learned, numbered for your convenience:

1. Love unconditionally. There are definitely some days when I want to punch a hole in Mike's face. I'm pretty sure that happens in every relationship. I just do the best that I can every day to show him how much I care. 
2. The past is the past. For the longest time, I felt myself being compared to all of his exes thanks to constant conversations about them. It made me feel bad about myself. Eventually, I realized that those issues aren't mine, and isn't my concern. 
3. Never go to bed angry. Getting back to my first point - getting in an argument is bad enough, but if you don't agree to disagree before going to bed, don't think for a second that it won't continue to haunt you. You won't sleep well, and the bad feelings will continue. It's better to apologize and get on with your life. 
4. Don't lose yourself in the relationship. I still fight with this one to this day. I am still learning how to be Liz, and do all of the things I loved to do before meeting Mike, like knitting, writing, and my other hobbies. 
5. Be best friends. If I don't hear from Mike throughout the day, it doesn't feel like it's going to be a good day. Each and every day, I hear from him several times, mostly to ask how my day is going. To ask what I want for dinner or tell me how he did on a test in school. It just makes me feel loved. 
6. Be patient. Everything else is tied to this one, for sure. Learning to love, and forget about the past, and stay together with an open mind is difficult. Every day, it gets easier and easier. 

Love is hard work. It's up to us to make the best of it. 

Conquering My Aversion to Blogging...

or: "Saying 'Fuck You' to Margaret White."

On a daily basis, I read the blogs and Tumblrs of people I've never met. I have always been interested in, and completely enthralled by, life stories, and reading blogs have been a great way for me to get my fix in that department. I've even gotten around to talking to a few bloggers in order to get myself some confidence, bloggers who I idolize in a way (the lovely Erin Dawn has been helpful in ways I can never put into words or thank her enough for).

You may ask why I haven't been able to do it myself. About seventy percent of me sees an ability to do the same, to share the story of my life, the things I love, and what I like to do. Ideas float through my head every day. The other thirty percent has held me back, and has been holding me back, for years. I call that thirty percent 'Margaret White'. You may know her as the mother of Sissy Spacek's "Carrie" in 1976. Hold please, an explanation is coming!

As a heavily tattooed woman, people see me and automatically think that I'm a fearless broad who'd punch you for looking at her sideways. Sometimes, I'm confident enough to feel that way, but most of the time I find myself keeping my feelings so deeply hidden that nobody gets in. Don't try it - it's a really shitty defense mechanism. I have been crippled by my own mind, my own 'what if's' for far too long. I'm ready to get back into life, get out of the dark, and lose the obnoxious fear that has been holding me back for the better part of the last four years, at least.

My fear has a name, and that name is 'Margaret White'. In the original film "Carrie", her mother was a super-Christian, abusive and atrocious woman. In one of the most memorable quotes of the film, she states - "They're all going to laugh at you." Instead of having a positive voice in my head pushing me to do things when I have an idea, or even just to get through the every day, I have had that. My own 'they're all going to laugh at you'. I have had nothing but misgivings about both people I know and strangers, thinking that if I write down what I feel, that I'll be chastised. I'll be made a fool of. That has put a stop to me writing on a more regular basis for at least the past three years.

Another part of it is that about ten years ago, a person I used to hold particularly close to me violated my trust and read very personal writings without permission. Since then, I have been crazy vigilant about being private with my feelings, especially with my writing. Nobody reads it unless I want them to, nobody knows about it unless I want them to, etc. I think it's about time to put that one to bed, too.

It's time for it all to stop. If I think about it, I have nothing to lose. I can't hold myself back or be dishonest about who I am and what I love anymore. It is no way to live, and my heart has been too heavy for too long because of it.

Breathing in, breathing out. I feel better already. Prepare for the entertainment to follow.

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