We celebrated Scarlet’s birthday over the weekend. If there is one place in Missouri that makes me thankful to be here, it’s the winery (in the Fall). The trees’ cornucopia of colors, the faint scent of winter approaching…the cute, albeit unnecessary, accessories attached to my wardrobe…all combined with a little Vignoles and I’m a happy girl.
While we were there, we ran into Ed’s best friend and his wife. I love them. While I was truly excited to see them and share a few laughs about life, it was a bit difficult. In a way, I’m very proud of where I am…but sometimes doubt creeps into my mind far more than I’d like to allow. Our conversation can only go so far when I have very little to contribute that they don’t already know. I’m teaching again. I’m loving life. Oh…yes…I’m still single. Yes, I swear I’m happy. So after about 10 minutes, the awkward silence creeps into our atmosphere and brings the joy of reuniting to a screeching halt. While they have no clue that their presence caused this, I started to feel uncertainty in my ability to contribute quality conversation points. Which, in turn, ignites sparks of self-doubt. Am I living the life that I want to live?
Truth be told, I’ve always dreamed of being a wife and a mother. The problem with this? I’m not even dating anyone right now. I’ve hit my mark with every other goal in my life. My career is fantastic, my writing is being read (and getting better), and I’m taking care of myself in ways that most people don’t. This, however, isn’t enough for me.
A dear friend of mine mentioned that she broke up with a boy today. My heart goes out to her. I told her that she’s a survivor…and that I knew she’d be fine. Her response to my remark lit a fire in my belly, and I’m beginning to realize that I’ve been telling myself I’m happy when, in actuality, I’m forcing myself to believe I am, when I know that I could be happier. That’s why I adore this friendship.
The catalyst? “But I really don’t want to be strong anymore. I’m tired of just surviving. I want to live.”
Me too, Becky. Me too.
While I couldn’t put words on it last night, I was feeling this exact thing too. With a few too many insecurities and a few drinks, I decided to try to ‘live’ last night.
I text Michael.
He’s coming in town for the holiday season.
I’ve been thinking about him lately. Maybe because my recent dates and/or potential partners have been lacking in some area that he’s not. The biggest? Their interest in me.
When I spoke of him before, I mentioned that he’d waited quite a long time to pour his heart out to me (both times). I also said that there is absolutely nothing wrong with him…and I wasn’t quite sure why I was reluctant, except for the fact that James was tap-dancing on my heart.
Well, James is no longer allowed to perform choreography on vital organs. Others are restricted from such games too. And while this is a bit of a premature declaration, I’m not one to hold anything back.
If Michael is still willing to try, I’m ready to give him a chance. I’m willing to open my heart again…to REAL possibilities. That might mean it’s Michael…and that might mean it’s someone else.
Because, ladies and gentlemen, I’ve been lying to myself for a while now. I’ve convinced myself that I was completely satisfied with being single. And I’ve also said that when love is supposed to happen, it’ll happen. Unfortunately, when you lock yourself up like a bomb shelter, it’s impossible for love to ‘just happen’. Hi, my name is Fina and I’ve provided myself with one hell of a chastity belt.
We talked a little bit last night (we’ve talking on-and-off again for the last year). He doesn’t know that I’m interested in seeing if something could happen between us. I’m totally okay with that.
Step one? Keep open the lines of communication. Find the damn key to my heart. Unlock it. Immediately.
Step two? Live.
Step three? See how opening my heart and living life changes my perspective.
While nothing may happen between Michael and I, my friends’ remark made my throw off the blinders today.
I’ve been single for a year and a half. I don’t think I’ve really allowed myself to explore opportunities during that time.
James was safe…because I knew (even when I ignored it) that he was unavailable. The last guy was safe…because I knew (even when I ignored it) that he’d probably bail on me too.
I haven’t been open to the possibility of succeeding, because success is scarier than failure right now. Success means that my goals could be reached…and then what would I live for?
Fear isn’t holding me back any longer.
Enter a new, intense soul-searching chapter of my story.
My future? A brave one.