I am free.
I am not living by anyone’s standards except my own, and by just daily doing as I should by them.
I packed this suitcase two months ago so I could not go back. So I would not rely on anyone but myself. So I could go forward only with myself. I have done well given that one rule. Many unexpected things happened and unexpected people stepped forward and unexpected support came about. I have new friends. I have a new respect for myself. In doing this alone, I am not alone. I have never felt so strong before in my life as I do right now not relying on anyone. Of course you are never alone. A trail of love sent me to where I am right now. A friend letting me use her gallery for hair, led to me feeling like I had some power, led me to a hair client, led me to cleaning her house which led us to conversations which led me to her brother in law which led me to living here with him. Things happened and took place and I stayed open, open, open. To everything. It worked.
Everything on this planet is temporary.
The job could end, the roommate could move, there is always a succession of events good and bad. I just find a list of things to be grateful for every single day. Food. Shelter. Water. My car. Love. My kids. Work. Gloves. Great skin. Money I DO have. I paid a bill the other day my ex husband has been paying for me. It bit into my Christmas fund, but I paid it, it is mine, that felt good. Its been biting into his funds and it is my bill.
I have been loved.
Love is a strange word to me when it comes to men and my relationships with them. I easily love my kids, I know what love feels like. I think my ex husband loved me, I think many of these men have thought they loved me. I think one or two did love me. I think I fell in love a million times and thought it was real every time. It was not. I think what they think love is though, is just a dysfunctional thing that fills a hole in them that a human person can never fill. I know that sounds hopeless. It is. I think most people ‘love’ an ‘idea’ of love or an idea of a person, but that is not love. To deeply love the person standing before you, no matter what, that is love. I have never had that. There is always conditions. I have always CHOSEN these people however, as I keep choosing people who will make me feel like I can resolve my original parental relationship. And I keep choosing my rude, mean, asshole mother person to love me. They start out great, and think I’m great then I can’t pour water right, or carry a tray right, or load a fucking dishwasher and I cower to them thinking I can’t give up on EVERYONE. I am giving up on MYSELF though by staying with them and trying to pour water right and trying to set out the books next to the plant just right only to see it moved ten seconds later. Or to end up covered in bruises from head to toe.
I love myself now. Real love. Not childish love where I go out and distract myself every night. Love where I go to bed early, drink lots of water, take walks, save money, give to my kids, and keep rolling forward into the deep. (LOVE ADELE)
I am here. I am unleashed, running in the park, not chasing a ball or a stick for anyone, but just running to feel the ground and the air and smile.
This love has been peeking out, every time I left a douchebag, a bad job, an abusive relationship no matter who it was or how slight the abuse. (He’s such a good guy.) My ex husband never hurt me, he just never touched me EVER. Everyone loves him. I had to leave. I initially fell apart completely and waited for someone to kill me, but I kept going,
This spark has always been in there.
I’m totally igniting it now. TO THE MAX.
Do not chase me, I am running in the park, I belong to no one. I am home.