THE ALTERATION
Alteration - (n.) the action or process of altering or being altered.
Ah, 2020… I think everyone can agree that it has completely transformed the landscape of all aspects of life as we know it. It would take up an entire blog post to provide an accurate recap of everything that has happened this year as it relates to the impacts of a global pandemic. Or some portal opening in an alternate universe seeking to destroy the human race, which has caused all of the chaos of 2020 to materialize. But if we’re all being completely honest, we all know that bitch Carole Baskin is the one who is responsible for all of it.
Looking back, it has been FAR too long since I’ve written. And I certainly have so much to write about that it might be difficult to stay on task with this post, but I’m going to do my best. Sometimes the things we are most passionate about take a back seat to what’s happening in life. But the important thing is that we find our way back to the things we love. Thankfully, I found my way back after spending a week hiding out in a cabin in Georgia with my husband (yes, I got married). I also got to read an entire book without interruption or falling asleep with it on my face. I even journaled for the first time in over a year. (And it was as glorious as being able to drink a hot cup of coffee in its entirety without the assistance of the microwave to choke the rest of it down). On the morning before our departure, I grabbed Brené Brown’s Daring Greatly. It had been sitting on my bookshelf for a year after it was suggested to me by a friend that it might help me on my quest to achieve new heights in vulnerability. Since I knew we were going to be in complete silence for a week (thank God he’s an introvert, too), I thought it would be a good book to read for some reflective line of thinking that might cajole me back in to my passion project, and it sure as hell made me reflect…
So, I grab my coffee and cozy up in the squishy, worn in leather chair and begin my literary adventure. Brown takes the main tenets of life and applies how vulnerability effects all of them—for men and women—as it relates to relationships, cultures/leadership, and parenting. One of my favorite chapters is her debunking the “vulnerability myths”: that it represents weakness; that we can opt out of experiencing it; that it means putting everything out there for all the world to see; that we can make the journey with it alone. She states: “Vulnerability isn’t good or bad: It’s not what we call a dark emotion, nor is it always a light, positive experience. Vulnerability is the core of all emotions and feelings (33).” She goes on to define it as being “uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure (34)”.
Well, shit. I think I had this concept all wrong.
After finishing this particular chapter, I’m sitting there getting emotional thinking about what she is writing and comparing it to what I’ve learned.
She is writing about MY entire relationship with vulnerability over the past five years. This is the moment my mind rewinds to last year.
I thought I was doing a pretty damn good job of evolving up until 2019, in spite of a lot of painful circumstances and realizations. I took a few steps backward, however, as the universe has its way of doing, I was reminded (again) that we are always learning new things about ourselves if we are willing to pay attention. After painful breakups with a relationship and a job, the recognition I had to finally swallow was that I had to give up trying to control everything, that it was not my responsibility to fix everything, nor could I make everything perfect. It’s not as though these lessons were foreign to me at that point in time either—when my mom died in 2016 it finally made sense to me that I could plan for everything under the sun and drive results to perfect it, but the only true control we have in life is our response to “stimuli”. I knew this would be an invaluable lesson to put in to practice in my life if I really wanted to elevate myself on the path to nirvana.
I am still somewhat ashamed to admit this today(and we’ll talk about shame as Brown presents it in another blog, because I’ve got a lot more to say about it) but being in control to mitigate uncertainty is my specialty; and everything I do has to be perfect. These are aspects of who I am and are the areas where I have to constantly remain conscious. Unwinding 40 years of self-control and perfectionism is no easy feat. However, the key point here is that I am highly aware of my need to do things that give me the feeling that I am in control, and by doing so I can make everything work perfectly. The other important fact is that I also recognize the triggers behind the actions that rouse these behaviors. This takes a lot of discipline, and it is so hard sometimes—especially on those days when you just want to revert to old habits out of comfort. Hell, the foundation of everything I do as an adult—work, parent, love—has the ability to trigger my need to fix or perfect something by taking over and doing it myself when I feel uncertain or emotionally visible. But as human beings, we weren’t designed to do everything on our own (even Brown reiterates on that in Daring Greatly). Therefore, if we want what we have never had, we have to be willing to recognize the things holding us back then change. And once we elevate ourselves into living more vulnerably and authentically, the universe typically interjects better destinations. Nonetheless, I dared to be different for a change just to see where the road would lead.
So, the universe took my dare and said challenge accepted…by introducing me to my husband. It was then that everything finally started to make sense.
I don’t know how to adequately explain what happened to me when I met him, but I’m going to try. I have listened to people my whole life say that the day they met the person they were going to spend the rest of their life with they “just knew”. You know the people I’m talking about, too—they’ve been married since birth, or they behave like teenagers in love every single day—the couples who truly co-exist for all the right reasons. This was always something I wanted for myself, but I had pretty much let go of the idea it was going to happen for me. I was committed to just living my life with my son, my friends, my job, and being content. Clearly, the universe had other plans.
Meeting my husband was ecstasy and bedlam in 6’1” form with blue eyes so concentrated on me that I could feel him piercing my soul. The moment he arrived I “just knew”. And when you listen to people talk about it, you kind of have to giggle a little bit because it does sound crazy—how can you possibly know on a first date that you’re going to marry someone? There is supposed to be a process of learning and gaining trust with someone that is measured, and then you grow in to “just knowing” once you have established that foundation for whatever length of time it may be. Except…that’s not how it happened at all. He will probably give me shit for mentioning this (or take great pleasure in the fact that he said it before I did), but on our first date he told me that he was going to marry me. I laughed; but intuitively, I couldn’t deny that he was right.
The chemistry and connection were so palpable throughout the entire evening you could have cut them with a knife and served them with dinner. There was no second-guessing. No nit-picking. No intuitive “yield here” feelings. It was pure acceptance. I had never experienced that with anyone—there had always been something that warranted a “pause here and be careful” and “wait and see”. Curiously, I knew that we were truly identical in all the ways that mattered. It confused me and excited me all at once—and the strangest part of it all was that I knew he felt it, too. There was a moment during our first date that it occurred to me that I was completely out of control with the situation. There I was, feeling this way with this person I barely knew, and it didn’t bewilder me in the least that it was happening. All the rules were completely off the table and there was no way to regain control of situation and solidify my footing. And for once in my life I didn’t feel a need to. It was as though I had been transported back home to someone with whom I had already co-existed for a lifetime.
We enjoyed a short courtship before life would take a turn again to teach us both new lessons. Two months and three days to be precise. The universe has a funny way of leveling you up when you least expect it. The weekend following the introduction of our children, he was involved in a life-changing automobile accident with his son on their way to visit me and my son. There are instants that are forever etched in to memory that typically mark a before and after in our lives. The night of the accident will forever be the pivotal moment that would not only define who we would become as a couple, but also validate my desire to alter my internal struggle with self-control and perfectionism. I would become completely vulnerable with another human being. That night, I went all in with vulnerability, stripping myself of any fear of what could go wrong and turned the focus to what I could do for the benefit of someone I knew I loved, regardless of the outcome. A huge risk, but I knew I would never forgive myself if I didn’t do this. And after choosing that path because of him, I have never looked back.
There was never another option of what I was going to do to support him through that moment in his life. There was an unspoken sense of obligation I felt based upon unconditional love without expectation, something I had only felt as a daughter and as a mother until I met him. He needed me as much as I needed him. While the internal journey was different for each of us as individuals, I see the fundamental lesson as the same: for the first time we were both letting our guard down with another human being. We both began our relationship with a few walls and guarded conversation. But in this moment, there was no more hiding from the other. He had to depend upon me completely, giving up most of his independence until he healed. I had to be willing to do things for someone else when I had no way of knowing what the final outcome would yield. At a time in our relationship that should have been centered around courtship, we catapulted ourselves head first into some real-life shit.
I will never speak for him, nor will I disclose all he went through; he trusted me during an incredibly difficult time and I will always honor that. And I will always honor him. I only share this piece of our relationship because it relates to the lesson I learned last year around vulnerability. In realizing that in order to have the depth inside of a romantic relationship that I craved, I had to dare to be different. I knew when I met him I was going to marry him, but I couldn’t wholly explain why or how I knew; I just did. What I learned about true vulnerability in the three months that followed his accident will be something I will carry with me until I take my last breath. I could never go back to being who I was before him, nor would I want to. He embodies the very essence of everything I’ve ever desired and value in a romantic relationship and you don’t get do-over’s with people like that. We intuit one another effortlessly. And even though I still struggle with emotional exposure and uncertainty in other areas of my life, I know that because of him I can continue to evolve for the better. When the thing(s) I least like about myself ceased to exist because of him, I knew I would always be able to be completely vulnerable and authentically who I am with him. For the first time I am removed of judgment in love, and I offer him the same. The feeling I held on to from our first date continues to be validated as a result of the trust we have developed in spite of his accident. There is no better foundation than the one I experience with him, and I now understand what it means to feel this way.
In fairness, and to provide balance to my ramblings, I have to interject here that we are not without our faults, insecurities, and our struggles.
There is no such thing as perfect; it is impossible (as spoken by a recovering perfectionist). We are continuing to learn and grow, but we are doing those things together. He makes me a better human being, and I believe that I challenge him in the same ways he challenges me. And most importantly, we accept one another for who the other is, wholeheartedly—we aren’t trying to change the other or dictate what the other does. And while our relationship still takes work, it is easy to do when you meet the person with whom you will spend the rest of your life. He knows me intimately because he is me; and I am him. We are silly, vile, analytical, and emotional, and most of all committed for better or for worse. After everything we have been through together this year, there is no doubt in my mind that the devotion we share for one another will get us through any obstacle life will present us. In less than a year, I met my forever and married him. It’s hard to believe it all happened so quickly. But to quote my favorite book, Alice in Wonderland: “If you knew time as well as I do,” said the Hatter, “you wouldn’t talk about wasting it.”
And I’m sure not going to let the year 2020 or Carole Baskin take credit for any of it.
I encourage anyone who is on the fence about opening up to challenge yourself to live a life with more depth—embrace the uncertainty that will inevitably come…because it will. And you can’t avoid it either. The best thing you can do for yourself is have a couple of people in your corner who have earned the right to be there and who you trust wholeheartedly, removed of judgment. A sentiment shared by Brown in Daring Greatly, and one I adopted within the last year.
And I quite like the fact that my husband and I live life on our own terms, supporting one another.
- BWT
“Which way you ought to go depends on where you want to get to...”