Death/Rebirth

“Sometimes you have to kind of die inside in order to rise from your own ashes and believe in yourself and love yourself to become a new person.”
― Gerard Way
 
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So, I experienced a break-up recently and we had the typical conversation about remaining friends where we said we'd both like to but neither of us were sure it was possible. When I got the final e-mail telling me that no, he's not capable of being friends with me, I cried, of course. The death of a relationship always brings with it a level of mourning. The first thought that occurred to my brain when I woke up the next morning was a quote from Louis C.K.

"No happy marriage ever ended in divorce."

The same is true for any level of relationship. If the relationship were happy, truly happy, it wouldn't end. Except in death (of a person). Any other kind of death of a relationship only occurs when it is not a happy relationship. It could have been happy at one point in time, but it no longer is when it dies.

And what I realized next was my OMG moment:

Every time one of my relationships has ended, I've been propelled forward into the next stage of my life. So it's not even the death of a relationship, it's the death of a life cycle. Perhaps this is why we mourn so hard. We know we're moving from a place where we will never return in our lives and most of the time, we're not quite prepared.

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Several months ago, I was explaining to one of my partners about how hurt I get when people leave me and he asked me a simple question, "Why?" I responded, "Why, what?" He asked, "Why do you get hurt?" My initial gut reaction was "WTF? Why would I not be hurt?

For me, almost every relationship I've ever had ended was ended by the other person. People are constantly leaving me. Each time I question, "Why? What did I do? What's wrong with me?" Fortunately, this time, I'm sure it had nothing to do with me. I was clear with this person start to finish and not a single person who knows me can say, "Well, Andrea....there's this one thing you did..."

This situation and having lots of honest folks around who'd call me on my b.s. if I was mucking the stuff has caused me to realize that ALL of the people who've walked out of my life have done so because of something going on with THEM. Whether their issues had something to do with me or not, none of them have been issues with ME. What I mean by that is, there's nothing wrong with me. And there's nothing I could have done differently to prevent any of those people from choosing what they chose.

And now I realize exactly why I wouldn't be hurt. Hurt comes from the thinking there's something wrong. Hurt comes from the mourning and the lack of acceptance of the death, that the death is good and right and natural.

Now instead, I find acceptance. I find acceptance and willingness for this death of a life cycle. I have grown into a new person. This new person is tired of having relationships with people who can't stand on their own two feet or see the world clearly. Tired of fighting people's perceptions of myself and the rest of the world. These relationships cause me emotional turmoil and cause me to question my sanity. Gone are the days where this girl cries when someone leaves her. I have realized that everyone who has ever left me has abused me in one way or another. Why would I mourn the loss of that? Having that leave my life is not sad.

I also find awareness. Awareness that I am transitioning into a new being. This relationship death came while I was on vacation with my family. I was driving, as I always do on vacations and I observed after this death that I had not sped egregiously the entire trip. I made liberal use of the cruise control set at exactly 10mph over the speed limit--at the most! Anyone who knows me, knows this is an extreme change for me, ordinarily I am a speed demon. But that is not ordinary for me anymore.

Who I was as a person was lit on fire and razed to the ground. Like a phoenix, I rise from the ashes, a new bird, ready to take on the next stage of my life.

On Receiving Flowers

Everyone knows that women love to receive flowers, except this woman, well, sometimes, maybe...

Perhaps it started in childhood, with my mother not having a good man around, she never got flowers. I know she loved them, though.

I think more likely that it started in my teens. I was living with my father and it was around Valentine's Day, we were commenting on all the flowers that were purchased for the day and he said, "I ought to get you flowers and have them sent to school, so you know I love you." My heart began to swell with the feeling of being loved when he said, "No. Wait. That's your boyfriend's job." "But I don't have a boyfriend, Dad." "That's my point, Andrea, you need to get one."

I had explained to him many times my feelings on dating in high school. I thought the whole enterprise was stupid and pointless. I watched other girls get into relationships, swear they were in love, break up a few months later and be heartbroken, then fall in love again with some other boy. I had heard time and time again that kids were foolish and couldn't possibly fall in love. Recognizing that I was a kid, I decided I would wait until I was an adult and then date.

Fast forward a year or two, I'm now 18 and at society's prescribed adulthood age. So I start dating. I decide (because I'm still a kid) I'm in love with the second guy I date and the issue of flowers comes up one day. We've already combined finances and so I tell him to not ever buy me flowers because I think they're a waste of money...they just die within a few days. A couple days later, he gives me a rose he drew (he knew they were my favorite) as a kind of "Ha! I can still give you flowers!" And that was the end of the subject between he and I.

Fast forward another 13 years and he and I have divorced. I find myself a single adult and in the position to date again. I've realized that I *would* like to receive flowers sometimes as I see them as an expression of love. My dear, sweet daughter buys me flowers for Mother's Day. I thank her and tell her it's not the same, but I very much appreciate it (knock my parenting later). At a random later juncture, she gets me flowers again and I cry and thank her. I then tell her that I wish I had a boy who would do the same.

Fast forward another year or so. I have 3 boyfriends and not a single one has gotten me flowers. I'm not upset at any one of them, but I do sometimes wish they would think to do it.

Now we're up to last night. I'm telling Boyfriend 1 about a stalker I had and how this guy had presented me with a single long-stem rose on our second date and how I'm still irritated that the only guy who's ever gotten me flowers turned out to be a creep. BF1 says, "I'm sorry honey, I don't do flowers." I said, "Eh, whatever I don't need them, it's okay."

So then, as I'm getting ready for bed, I'm mulling this over, "Shit, chick, make up your mind! Which the fuck is it?" And then it dawns on me...I'm staring at my dresser where sits a little Darth Vader that BF1 presented to me on Valentine's Day just before he headed out of town for two weeks. And I swelled with that feeling of being loved and I realized exactly what it is that I want.

Seeing women presented with flowers is seeing them being loved. I don't actually need to receive any thing to feel loved. In fact, I make it quite clear to my men and to my family that I don't like being given things. BUT I do like being thought of. When BF1 brought me the Darth Vader he said it was to keep me company while he was out of town. It's not the thing he gave me, it's that realization that he thought of me and would miss me while he was away. And I realized he has given me flowers. Because he's done for me exactly what flowers mean to me. And then, in thinking on it, all of my boyfriends have given me flowers. Those random little texts in the middle of the day, to tell me they miss me or they're thinking of me...I get flowers ALL THE TIME.

So, to my men and to my family: I love you and thank you for all the flowers you've given me. I realize now that what I wanted so desperately I already had and just had to pull my head outta my ass to see it.