But you know what? I don’t know that I would be telling you the whole truth. I think, yes, I will tell you the truth if your haircut sucks really bad, or if the dress you are wearing is just awful (if you ask, of course. I am NOT in the habit of getting my face punched out.). If I were to, say, see your boyfriend at the gas station sucking face with another girl when I knew for a fact that he told you he was out of town on business- you can bet your sweet ass I would let you know. I would also make sure that he saw me, and that whoever the other girl was knew what a pig he was. I would hope that you would do the same thing for me.
And when I am in the wrong and I know it, I will almost always come to my senses, swallow my pride, and admit it, apologizing for any name calling that may have happened along the way. I try to stay aware of my shortcomings and take them into account when I am getting into it with someone.
The truth of the matter is, I think I treat others with a measure of honesty and fairness that I don’t always show myself. The problem is, I can’t always see the big picture in my own life because I am too busy LIVING it, being right in the thick of it, you know?
I didn’t see a lot of the stuff that was going on with my older daughter because I am her mom, and I can only see her through my own, flawed, mommy-goggles. I brushed off some things that were important because I thought I knew her well enough that I could safely dismiss real feelings for attempts at getting attention. I refused to believe some crappy things about her because she is my daughter, my baby, and I KNOW her, how DARE you try to say that about MY daughter…you know?
And then there is this relationship I have. Sometimes I think it is a lot better than it is ( not often) and sometimes I think it is just a whole hell of a lot worse than it is. I blow stuff out of proportion. I convince myself, every other day, that it is OVER, that that was the last straw, that I cannot do it anymore…and here we are, five years later, stumbling along. I am kind of starting to think that we are normal.
I don’t think anyone gets a free pass to happy-land when it comes to love. To be honest with you, I don’t even think that love is the thing we grow up thinking and expecting that it is, or that it will be. The truth is, it’s a lot of f*****g work. It’s work I don’t always feel willing or able to do. I think that fairy tale malarkey we grow up hearing and dreaming about is poison to real life love. Because that little tingle you may be lucky enough to feel for the first two years is there for a reason- to keep you sufficiently tolerant of one another for long enough so that you may sign a lease, exchange a set of rings, or have a baby. After that stuff happens, you are in it, WAY in it, and the point becomes about keeping yourself in it without drowning or killing someone else. Or, the point CAN be about making the best of what you have and trying to find a way to stay in it that works for everyone. Sometimes you can. Sometimes you can’t, but you have to be able to throw the towel in knowing you really did everything you could to make it work.
Sometimes that means recognizing that you aren’t so damned great, after all. That maybe you are a pain in the ass to live with, a slob, and a teensy bit self centered most of the time. Whatever the truth may be, I think it’s important to tell it, even to yourself, about yourself.
My truth today is that I am not leaving. Not today, or next week or anytime in the foreseeable future. So I may as well stop complaining and start looking for the solution.
Things aren’t always great, but they could be a whole stinking lot worse- and perhaps, if we weren’t wasting so much time complaining about what is wrong, we could spend a little more time trying to work it out.
That’s where I am today. Hope that made some sense because I am not even going to read it back to myself before I post it.