A decision every day

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Dear Ruth,

How dare you avoid me?

(This is a real question, really, how did you do it? Sometimes I want to avoid myself)

I do not want to talk about my trip to Colombia on this letter because that is going to be a really long story and it has a sad ending. I rather rant to you about marriage today and leave the immigrant rant for another letter (it’s coming though, I got so much bitching to do)

I want to respond to your question of getting ownership of your feelings and thoughts. I absolutely think you can, but it is not going to be fun. First of all, I am polyamorous. I cannot really relate to the idea of jealousy in romantic relationships. What are you jealous of? What are you worried about? That they’d leave you? That someone prettier would come around? I don’t get it man. I do know about trust in relationships. Relationships are based in decisions. People wake up every day and choose to stay with YOU. You don’t own Elise, she can look at whom she pleases and talk to whom she pleases. She can wake up tomorrow and say: FUCK THE LEASE! I AM OUT! But she has not. And she may never do that. You just have to accept that she chooses you every day and will continue to do so until she wants to. You cannot win her over, you cannot earn love. This is not a competition: you vs all other gayz. This is a partnership.

Whenever you feel jealous, count the days that Elise has chosen you. The times she has gone out of her way to please you, say thank you to the universe for ten things she has done that make you happy. By the time you are done, you won’t remember what you were jealous about.

Trust is not never being jealous. Trust is getting past those fears and insecurities and knowing they’d choose you again.

We are just so different Ruth. Like I cannot comprehend the way you think about marriage as security. My parents are married to this day and it has brought nothing but unhappiness to each other and their children. A lease, a marriage contract, paper and more paper. I can relate to the thought of “I choose this person to be my closest of kin” , this makes sense to me. The way you list an emergency contact on forms and applications. You have someone. In this sense, I get your idea of marriage. You have someone, undoubtedly. It is the certainty that they have your best interest and your happiness in mind.

But this statement I have a problem with “This person is my anchor. This person is my home”

It mostly has to do with my growing up without a family or an anchor or a “home”; feeling still like home is a foreign concept that may never make sense to me. When I broke up with my ex, I went through a whole process of re-accepting this “homelessness”. And I came across this poem:

you can’t make homes out of human beings

home warsan shire3_900someone should have already told you that

and if he wants to leave

then let him leave

you are terrifying

and strange and beautiful

something not everyone knows how to love.

By Warsan Shire (here’s the whole poem)

So what happens if the anchor lifts? You drift. What happens if you want to navigate away from port? The anchor holds you back. I am not okay with this. I am the captain of my soul (also a poem).  I have had too many “homes” to believe that they would last more than five years. I promise, I am not cynical. I am actually very romantic. But as a friend, I want you to go into this thinking:

a new contract every day, a decision every day.

Trace and I are coming onto a one year anniversary of our very first date. I have never been with anyone so different to myself. Half the time, I am almost certain they would leave. And I am surprisingly okay with it. They have been consistently around for the last five months and have made me very happy. We have had conversations about moving in together and marriage and such. We agreed to seriously revisit the concept when we have been together for a year.

I am doing better in terms of stress (or trying) the game plan was to reduce the number of commitments I currently have and make alone time to recharge and1461865314292 recover. It has worked well so far. I had a very abusive roommate (he’s a little psycho though, like not all there) who harassed me on text every day and yelled at my guests and threatened to have me evicted (after I gave moving notice). It was making me feel very unsafe, called 911 several times. This was definitely not helping my stress levels. But now I have moved and I am pleased
with my apartment, I have more space and more privacy and no harassment whatsoever. My biggest problem is Toby pooping in the house, but currently working on that. 

I am also making a fairy garden in the small yard we have in the back. Its going to be so beautiful. I will send pictures when it’s done.

I cut my hair recently, what do you think?

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Thank you for putting up with my weirdness. I will write to you again about Colombia, and privilege and goals and being an immigrant. It’s on my mind right now but too stormy to make a decent post out of it.

Love,

Nora

PS. Yorkies are perfect. Great for allergies, small and well behaved. I approve.

Choosing one another

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Dear Nora,

I have to confess.. I’ve been avoiding you a little bit. Not really deliberately, but if I’m being totally honest it’s because as I’ve been thinking about the question “why marriage” I am having trouble coming up with a good answer for you.

So instead of waiting to reply until I can offer a nicely packaged response, instead I will offer you just my scattered thoughts on the subject. First, a few quotes:

“that’s the most beautiful thing in the world: when two people become fluent in choosing one another.” -HB

“Why do we choose partners so different from ourselves? It’s not fate, chance or clichés like ‘the heart wants what it wants’. We choose our partners because they represent the unfinished business from our childhood. And we choose them because they manifest the qualities we wish we had. In doing so, in choosing such a challenging partner and working to give them what they need, we chart a course for our own growth.” – Modern Family

That I can tell you—if I know anything about Elise and I, it’s that she helps me chart my course for growth. But somehow, simultaneously accepting me, 100% as I am in this moment. I just think marriage offers you “security” (I know divorce…  people break promises and are human and fail… all that crap…)—but it is someone saying to the world, I choose this person to be my closest of kin. I choose to work through the hard parts of life with them. I choose to share the best parts with them. This person is my anchor. This person is my home.

spring

Spring <3

Elise signed her first ever lease with me. She had previously just rented rooms, or lived with someone who owned a house, or somehow just got by with out ever having to make that legal commitment. So it was a big step for her to enter into a binding contract with me. NOT that she couldn’t get out of it, there is always a way out if you really want out. But by her taking that step with me, it demonstrated that she was “in this” with me. That’s what marriage is, x1000. Not a one year lease. But looking around at this crazy world and crazy life, and saying “I’m in this with you”. You could do it and mean it just the same without the paperwork, and there is always a way out, contract or not. But the act of publicly and legally binding to that person, it’s a demonstration of that commitment. It’s the act of doing that that adds the meaning, not the paper itself.

I know what it’s not. It’s not someone responsible for your happiness. It’s not your “everything” (no one person will ever be able to fulfill all your needs, nor are they supposed to). It’s not a fairy tale.

One more quote for you. Actually, this one is a poem:

What love isn’t

It is not a five star stay. It is not compliments and it is ever ever flattery.
It is solid. Not sweet but always nutritious
Always herb, always salt. Sometimes grit.
It is now till the end. It is never a slither, never a little
it is a full serving
it is much
too much and real never pretty or clean. It stinks – you can smell it coming
it is weight
it is weight and it is too heavy to feel good sometimes. It is discomfort – is is not what the films say. Only songs
get it right
it is irregular
it is difficult
and always, always
surprising.

– Yrsa Daley-Ward

I’ve been fighting some of my more infuriating and possessive demons this past week or so. God, how I long to be free of them. Jealousy is like a puppeteer that laughs at me fighting my strings and makes me look like fool. I’m tired of the game, and I want out. I want ownership of my thoughts and feelings again Nora. Do you think I can get that back? I am determined to.

Your panic attacks sound terrifying. How do you handle that? Those moments of losing control, and knowing you’re not crazy, but also knowing something is sweeping over you that is bigger than you—something that can’t be reasoned with?

Have you come up with a new game plan to help with stress?

Trace sounds like a lovely person, and I’m glad you have them as a support, as well as some good and growing friendships. I think owning the identity of agender seems brave and beautiful and freeing. But also probably really hard, in practice, because our world is so binary with gender—even our languages! People get so uncomfortable with things they can’t categorize in a clearly labeled file folder.

I have people that feel permanent in my life, namely my family, especially my siblings who are my favorite humans in the world and get me and accept me in a way that I could never replace. I know permanency is an illusion and no one is truly permanent in life. People come and go and change and grow together and apart. Or sometimes a friend moves away and falls off the face of the earth (I’m so sorry that happened to you, friend), or gets married and has kids and everything changes. With friendships, I’ve had people revolve in and out over long timespans, and I think that is ok. A few have really stuck in my heart, and I think will be around “for good” in one way or another, but I guess time will tell. That is one of the bigger things I am learning to accept.

My dear, your story is anything but boring! I can literally not even imagine my 16-year-old self handling everything you went through. Sixteen-year-old Ruth was just going to youth group, swim team, and obsessing over The Lord of the Rings and Princess Diaries. My greatest challenge that year was AP U.S. History. So, if that tells you anything…

I want to hear about your trip back to Colombia! Details please.

Your friend, Ruth

P.S. Seeing pics of Toby makes me miss the little fur babies who’ve been part of my life. I am currently petless, but I know Elise & I will remedy that hopefully sooner rather than later. She wants a yorkie. So… that probably means we’ll be getting a yorkie (the girl gets what the girl wants).

Of why I came to America

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Dear Ruth,

The pictures of the tree house are EPIC. They’re the most reblogged post in our tumblr page.

Thank you for taking my craziness into consideration and writing such a lengthy Echo Park, Los Angeles and educational reply to my ranting. Things got worse before they got better. I had a panic attack at work and the boyfriend had to come pick me up. Well, they did not have to. They chose to pick me up because I mentioned I did not feel safe going home,I did not want to be unsupervised. When I get panic attacks I get kind of paranoid and I think everything is out to get me. Oh, and I cannot stop crying. It’s not fun and it’s not pretty. I am also not crazy.

I am gratefully doing better and sat with myself in the park the other day to write some things down and prioritize. I have way too much in my plate right now. The stress level is escalating and it will only get higher if I want to apply to school this summer. I really need to come up with a game plan.

When it comes to mental health, it is very important to have the right support and the right strategy. “Winging it” is a really really really bad plan.

I am glad Elise has you as support and if you ever not know how to deal with it, feel free to ask away.

In the love life, I am looking to date but have not met anyone that catches my eye lately. I am very in love with Trace and I am enjoying it. Did I mention Trace is agender? They recently changed their pronouns to they/them/theirs and I am adjusting to it. We settled for the title “boyfriend” or partner because they are the home depot type.

Ruth, I am glad you asked about my move to the states. It’s a really boring story but it’s a big part who I am since moving here shaped me so much.

My mom is a minister. Her dream job is to preach the gospel and get paid for it. She’s also an educator, that’s her day job. My mother has two sister who emigrated to the states when she was very young. One those sisters, also named Nora, is a devout christian. My aunt Nora’s church used to have a pastors conference every year during the month of April. In 2003, my mom received an invitation to attend the conference and my other aunt had the idea to include me on the letter. I was very involved in my church and was a minor so it was very likely I would get a visa.

Alas, the American embassy gave us an interview for a visa the week after the conference and it would not make any sense to even attend the interview. But my aunts in New York were very invested in seeing my mom in the states. They had not seen her for like 30 years so they talked to the church and they issued my mom an invitation for a different event in June that year. Our visas were approved and we came in June 2003. My mom stayed for a few months and went back to Colombia in August. I did not see her for a few years after that.

I lived with my aunt Nora for about a year and a half but we did not get along and it was hell. Then I lived with another aunt Mary for another year-ish. I moved out the winter after I turned 18 and never looked back.

It’s a pretty lame story but that’s the gist. The only interesting part is how I made this decision. In December 2002, my mom asked me if given the opportunity would I live in the United States with my aunt. I said yes instantly. I was in my last year of High School and I was aware there was no money for higher education. My father is completely useless and my mom was struggling to carry my sisters community college. My future after school did not look bright or promising so i was given a way out and took it. I also hated my parents, so everyone wins.

This remains to date the most important decision of my life and I made it as a child. I am not sure why this was left up to me

or who thought it was a good idea to send a teenager into the wild alone. Yes I lived with relatives but I had never met them. They did not feel like family, still don’t. Being alone in this country has made me the strong independent invincible woman that I am today. But I was not always this person. I had to survive the loneliness and the abandonment. Had to figure out life, adulting, education, health, basically EVERYTHING. Alone and in a different country. I do not recommend it. I would not send my children away to have a better future.

This is getting long but to answer the rest of your questions:

Do you still keep in touch with them?

Yes, through whatsapp mostly I don’t like talking on the phone so internet is better

Have you ever gone back?

I have been back once and it was interesting. (Would you like details?)

Are your closest friends with you in California? or still back in NY?

My closest friends are in NY. I am starting to make friends in California. I have made a really strong bond with one friend named Pixie. There’s a friend Stephanie who I dated a while back in NYC who now lives here. She’s great to have. I hope to keep growing a circle. Even though I am not sure if I am staying here.

Do you have people in your life who feel “permanent”?

No. I had one friend named Sofia who felt permanent but she decided to dump me in 2014, after six years of friendship. Bitch moved to California last December and STILL did not hit me up. That has made it really hard to trust friendships. My Best friend Iris who is in NYC is healing most of that wound and she is starting to feel permanent even though we are apart.

I hope this answers your questions Ruth. Feel free to keep asking.

I still want to hear about the “m” word though. Trace and I have discussed moving in together and agreed to revisit the idea seriously when we have been together for about a year. I saw this article in Autostraddle about the pace of relationships and how it is different for everyone and not an indicator of ANYTHING. Made me think of you and Elise who went from dating to wife-ing in less than a year.

I hope the ice has melted completely by now in Portland, and that you are finding fresh vegetables in the hipster markets you are always visiting.

Toby desperately needs a haircut, buSnapchat-7584283940234007677t he says hi.

Thank you for being a good friend.

Love, 

Nora 

Loved as a whole

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Dear Nora,

I’ve been marinating in two pools of thought ever since I read your letter. 1) thinking about that “m” word…and your question “WHY?” and 2) thinking about relationships in combination with mental health issues.

Thank you for sharing about your depression with me. I’ve known people in the past who try to hide their struggle with that. But that just piles shame on top of depression, and adds another log on that fire of perceived failures.

I also appreciate you addressing the importance of a partner (or really, any close person in your life) learning how to best help you during a bout of depression. Mental health has been a recurring theme in my life without me being able to say I’ve personally struggled with it. Some of the most important people I hold dear struggle with mental health issues. I am certain I’ve been guilty of not handling it well at times, just trying to douse out depression with a big bucket of positivity. I’ve definitely learned over time that it’s more beneficial and comforting to them when I step into their pain with them instead of trying to pull them out of it.

There is so much shame and easy dismissal of those with mental health struggles.

I cannot tell you how many times I’ve head a comment like: “I dated her, but she was crazy–seriously, she was bi-polar or something and needed to be on meds.”

I am disturbed by that statement on many levels. Mostly it’s just an ignorant and shaming thing to say–who are you to diagnose and prescribe treatment?

My sister is bi-polar, it’s something she wakes up every morning and tackles–the weather systems of moods sweeping through her days and nights. But there is almost no one I love as much as her. Not only is she incredibly lovable and unique and generous and brilliant, she is a kind and loving partner to the man she is dating. And has been completely open with him about her challenges.

Mental health is a very real thing. In fact, a very common thing (1 in 5 adults in the U.S. struggle with mental health). It can have a huge, crippling impact on a life, or it can hover in the background like a buzzing fly, or come and go in waves. But no matter what it’s presence is like, the person who has to deal with it is still 100% worthy of love and empathy and acceptance. And they may choose to seek medication and therapy, and they may not. Or they might find other ways to handle it (fried chicken and lavender are nice). But your job, as someone who loves them, is not to shame them, or tell them they’re “crazy”, or dictate what their treatment should be. It’s to support them. It does bring a unique set of challenges to romantic partnerships, but who doesn’t come with their own variety of challenges, insecurities, and struggles? I think the best way to “deal” is to just be as open and honest with communication as possible. You aren’t there to save or fix someone, your job is to love them, and love yourself.

*whew* Sorry that was just a bit longwinded. Obviously this is an important topic to me. Elise deals with some mental health issues as well, and has been upfront with me from the beginning about it. I have so much to learn still, but I know these challenges have already stretched me to grow in so many ways. You don’t love someone in spite of their issues, you love them as a whole—all the parts of them make up who they are.

Ok, since this has gotten quite lengthy, I’m going to save my response about marriage for the next letter. In the meantime, some questions for you, my dear. This is highly personal, but can I ask why you left your family in Colombia at age 16? That is such a brave and terrifying thought to me. Do you still keep in touch with them? Have you ever gone back? Are your closest friends with you in California? or still back in NY? Do you have people in your life who feel “permanent”?

P.S. Thoughts of marriage coming soon. Also, massages do sound nice as well.

Love, Ruth

P.P.S. Elise and I celebrated our one year anniversary on Vancouver Island, B.C. by staying at this amazing spherical floating treehouse! It was unforgettable and quite special. Pictures below, because I can’t help myself…

IMG_1845 IMG_2008

 

Endings and beginnings.

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Dear Ruth,

Happy International Women’s Day!!!! Being a woman it’s the biggest of blessings. I have followed the poet you recommended and it was the best idea. Thank you.

Happy Leap day!!! I am late af and no, I did not do anything interesting.

I am sorry I did not get back to you sooner. I have been in a weird mental space. Depression returns like a debt collector with a list of my failures and reads them out loud for me to enjoy. I cannot do much internally to fight it other than being grateful for what I have and sending love memos to myself. Externally I play music as loud as possible, listen to podcasts and knit to the sound of Netflix. Anything that is louder than my internal demons helps, temporarily.

And lavender, lavender helps.

I thought it was interesting you mentioned casual dating when I was talking about my Baes. Polyamory is so much more than that. I get bored of casual dating because I do not like hook ups. I rather invest myself in people and create meaningful bonds. Kind of like you, but with one more than one person.  I don’t ever want to feel responsible for fulfilling ALL of one person’s needs. That was so draining for me. Knowing than my partners have other partners that can provide things I lack lowers the pressure to be everything they need.

Although not all is well in poly-paradise. I recently broke up with Jayne due to some irreconcilable incompatibilities. I am a sarcastic smart-ass and she’s a Hippie. We could not see eye to eye in things that were actually important. Like depression. She tried to provide support for me in a way that I did not respond well to. At times she would just sit with me and bring me fried chicken. Those are the good days, that is the support I need. I need fried chicken in my life. On other occasions I would try to talk to her, like comment on what I was feeling and her response is always positive and optimistic which is the WORST thing to offer to someone in depression.

You cannot present happy alternatives to someone who is in pain. You must wait for the pain to pass and keep them IMG-20160209-WA0009comfortable, like an emotional hospice patient. Seeing others provide love and allow you to sulk (for short periods of time) is the best kind of support. A depressed person is negative and miserable and unpleasant and not by choice. In my case, it really helps to have a loved one sit  in the hole with me, it gives me strength to rise up. But if someone stays on top and throws me a rope, instead of going down the misery road with me for a bit, I feel judged.

Fortunately I have wonderful friends and one other partner who are being supportive. I threw a pity party with $5 wine and some take out and watched Mockingjay for the umpteenth time. It helped and thanks to that I am now able to reply to you.

Romantic dates with my ex, NO!!!! They are not romantic at all. They are fun though. And we try to stay in each other’s lives although it is hard. We know each other too much and tend to pick up fights rather often. I would say the thing that allows us to stay friends is humor. Not taking things too seriously. I make fun of her obsession with drums and the gym, she makes fun of my “bae collecting” and lack of exercising. She sends me snaps of her working out at gym, I send her one back of me knitting with the hashtag #workout. We realize that we were growing apart in general and we are better humans apart. She has more time to invest in things she loves and I have more time to NOT hang with her friends and actually make my own, which was really hard here in California.

I am happy about you and Elise’s year. What is the plan for the anniversary?

I hope that this “m” word you speak of is “massage”. I hope that you are giving each other deep tissue aromatherapy massages to deal with the relationship things. I hope this “m” word does not require a trip to the courthouse and a ring, because OMG that a scary thought.

As a person who was separated from her family at the age of 16, I have a hard time gathering the idea of permanence. The concept that someone stays forever, like your family is supposed to, has been broken for me and it no longer exists. When I think of long term relationships I think of stability and companionship for a long time (like ten years). When someone says things like FOREVER I tend to slowly turn around and then run as fast as my dog runs to steal the cat food from the neighbor.

So let me ask you this, what is it that you envision yourself getting from this union? What is it that marriage has to offer than a partnership (minus legal contract) cannot?

You talked in your letter about the both of you recently getting off the infatuation cloud and landing “here”. What is here? What’s in that place? Does it smell good? Is it comfortable? Is it sustainable?

I am full of questions today.   

I am going to buy some paint and a few lamps to re-decorate some rooms of my inner house that have not been used in a while. This transition is going to be rough but I am always ready for a challenge that promises a happy ending.

The West Hollywood Public Library is closing soon and I must send this letter.

Being in a library is such a wonderful feeling. Just look at this heart of books, reminds me of mine and yours. 

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Love,
Nora

International Women’s Day

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Dear Nora,

In honor of International Women’s Day, I wanted to share this beautiful poem with you. (Also, speaking of poetry… if you are not following Nayyirah Waheed on instagram, do so immediately.)

THE JOURNEY

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice –
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do –
determined to save
the only life you could save.

-Mary Oliver, in “Dream Work”

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hiking in the Columbia River Gorge

Your friend, Ruth

Value and Vulnerability

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Dear Nora,

Happy Leap Day! Did you do anything special to celebrate the extra day?

All of your Valentine’s dates sound incredibly romantic (including the one with your ex…*ehem*). I don’t know how you do it! I can barely keep feelings straight and manage one relationship at a time. Then again, being openly polyamorous maybe takes off some of the pressure of monogamy to be ALL for the other person, and perhaps you don’t waste so much energy worrying about it being long-term/permanent, being “the one”, all of that. I’ve done so very little casual dating, so that’s really a foreign concept to me, in terms of personal experience. I feel I am naturally inclined to competition and jealousy, and I’m guessing that mixes with dating multiple people like oil mixes with water.

So romantic dates with the ex, eh? That can’t be easy. Do you two work to maintain a friendship? How is that? I always thought that would be me. That I would be someone who was friends with my ex if I ever had one. And then, when that became a reality, I realized that our friendship had very little to build on—yes we had years of love and nostalgia and growth together, but it had become so watered down with her guilt and my mistrust of her in the end. Maybe someday we will regain some of what we lost. But for now I think it’s for the best this way.

I envy your voice of instinct and your ability to listen to it. That is something that often comes out garbled for me, due to my compulsion to people-please—I allow the voices of others to drown out my own. But the voice is there, and it’s my job to listen to it. “People will lie to you, you will lie to yourself. But in the depths of consciousness there’s still that compass of self protection that will continue to point to the north. Follow the arrow.” I really like that, Nora.

I found comfort and support in friends and family after the breakup. Making trips to visit good friends and lots of long phone calls and letters and tears. But everyone was as stunned as I was, and hadn’t really ever seen me like this before. I think they weren’t quite sure what to do with me. After thinking “it will be fine, I’m fine, I’m fine…” I realized I was not fine after all, and there was a big ‘ole crash and burn. Within three months of the breakup my plans to move to Portland were set and I couldn’t get away from Indiana fast enough.

Elise and I are approaching one year together. I wish I could say it was smooth sailing and the perfect light of a sunrise coming up on the horizon of our lives. But it is not that. It is hard. It is work. So in other words, it’s real life. We are living together, and throwing the “m” word around more and more frequently. Timing landed us in the same place at the same time, and in the same general stage of life—looking for someone to walk side-by-side with, someone to “adult” with, be ourselves with, grow with, enjoy both the mundane and the exciting with. Someone to hold onto through the pain. We had a very instant and deep connection and it sucked us both in—and now it’s almost a year later. And as the dust of this whirlwind has settled, I think we’re both taking a deep breath and looking around at where we’ve landed and really evaluating where this is going. Not just moving forward to move forward. But doing so only if we are both 100% in it, and committed to the not just the joy, but the hard work of a long-term partnership.

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It’s made me really think about why we “do” relationships. Sure, the initial part is easy to explain. The attraction, the excitement, the intrigue and mystery and the game. But what does the long term offer? A lot of that initial stuff fades, and in the end you just have this very real, imperfect person next to you every day. And you choose, daily, whether to let them in. And you choose daily to love them and what to give and take. Finding the balance of what to compromise on and what to fight for. And sometimes it’s extremely rewarding. And sometimes it requires much of you. And this person is like your best friend, and your lover, and your family all rolled into one. Someone who knows your best and your worst and daily ups and downs, from all sides. There is a deep value in that, and also a terrifying vulnerability.

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I found a really lovely quote the other day, written by Edith Wharton (one of my all-time favorite authors) to a good friend in a letter. It’s about how to be happy & fulfilled, whether alone or with someone else:

“I believe I know the only cure, which is to make one’s center of life inside of one’s self, not selfishly or excludingly, but with a kind of unassailable serenity—to decorate one’s inner house so richly that one is content there, glad to welcome anyone who wants to come and stay, but happy all the same when one is inevitably alone.”

Here’s to decorating your inner house,

Ruth

On Trusting Your Instincts

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Dear Ruth

I have so many updates for you in terms of romance.

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San Diego, CA February 2016

Valentine’s Day was Amazing this year. On Saturday I had a Mariachi Dinner with Jayne*, she loved it. On Sunday, I had Palentine’s dinner with a friend. Friendship is the best of the loves. Then Monday and Tuesday I was in San Diego with Trace*. I have been seeing Jayne since September. We are both in our first polyamorous relationship and it has been such a learning experience. I have a longer history of on-and-offs with Trace. We are currently in a situationship. She is monogamous though, which complicates things. How can a monogamous person date a polyamorous person? I do not know, as of right now, we are making it work.

 

I also saw my ex this week for a salsa concert. Which made me a little melancholic because 1. Gilberto Santa Rosa has the most romantic salsa on earth and 2. We went to so many of these events together throughout our relationship. It makes the guilt come back to remind me that I had someone that I was extremely compatible with and that I ruined it. Guilt is lying though, I did not single handedly ruin it. It takes two to tango. Plus even though we seemed so compatible, I was very unhappy throughout our time in California. I was a lot happier when we were together in Brooklyn. That being said,

guilt will come to chase you and you just have to run faster.

It is interesting that we had the same but opposite experience and we had the same but opposite response. If there’s something that I came out with from my last breakup was trusting my instincts. This requires me to give up my hopes and daydreams. Understanding that the small voice inside of me is thinking ahead, it’s seen this before, it knows where this road leads.

I knew when my ex left New York City that I was extremely hurt by her abandonment. I was hooping to get over it. I supported her decision, and encouraged her, to apply for jobs here in LA. She was having a hard time in New York. But I did not know was how this would affect me, and the relationship.

By the time I got to LA, six months later, the whole thing was broken. I could not trust her with my heart since she had no problem picking up and leaving me behind in a span of about a week. It all happened so fast. I had to give away her clothes, move apartments, put our furniture on craigslist. The dog would roam the house looking for her, waiting for her to come home. She left me alone with a pile of shit to deal with and came to live the life in California.

I thought I could move on once we were back together. I thought the distance was the root of all the evil and that once we were near each other again, the feelings and the trust would return. (They did not). I ignored the parts of me heart that could no longer believe in someone who so easily just LEFT ME. From then on, I have a rule:

When in doubt, go with your gut.

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People will lie to you, you will lie to yourself. But in the depths of consciousness there’s still that compass of self protection that will continue to point to the north. Follow the arrow.

It is hard to trust yourself when your instincts have failed you before. When you were convinced that you had something that may or may not have existed. But go back to that time, to the moment, really. I bet it seemed like a good idea at the time to let go of yourself, to alleviate the pain of betrayal by denying it. It is a lot easier to sit and think that you were unworthy and “not enough” and make poor decisions, than it is to accept that this precious thing you handed to someone so carefully, YOUR HEART, was dropped. For some bizarre reason, and I have seen people do this a lot, we tend to justify the shortcomings of our loved-ones at our own expense. We make excuses for their behaviors and exonerate them.

Forgiving yourself means giving yourself permission to make mistakes, understanding that most of life is playing trial and error until something works. It also recognizing our faults and taking responsibility. It requires us to separate what we did from what they did and being able to let go of both. Not an easy task but once it’s done, the voice that has been saying “I told you so” will stop pointing fingers. And you will have you back. 

I am curious as to where you found support after the crisis. How did your friends and family react? What reasons did you give them for the break up? How long did it take you to move to Portland?

I hope this week brings you lots of blessings.

Love,

Nora
*Jayne and Trace are not their real names. But they both approved these aliases.

Pretty Lies and Ugly Truths

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Dear Nora,
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I knew we came into each other’s virtual lives for a reason. It is funny to me that we’ve never met in “real” life. But I am sure we will remedy that some day. In the meantime, thank you for your letter.

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We took a road trip to beautiful Montana for Valentine’s Day.

I finished The Book of Unknown Americans (Cristina Henríquez) this week, and there was a line that reminded me of what you said, that everything sounds better in Spanish: “English was such a dense, tight language. So many hard letters, like miniature walls. Not open with vowels the way Spanish was. Our throats open, our hearts open.” The book was moving, about Latinos moving to the US from all over South and Central America, pursuing the “American Dream”. It’s fiction, but I suspect there was a lot of truth in the stories it told.

In all of this worrying about being cheated on and trusting others, I’ve been distracted from the part I’m most ashamed of–as a result of all of this, I stopped trusting myself. That is the biggest piece I must sew back together in my new canvas–it is the heart of it all.

After she cheated and I was hurt, I should have been my own greatest advocate–first and foremost protecting and defending myself. Have the self-respect to stand up and fight for myself. But I am ashamed to say that isn’t what I did. Instead I limped out slowly, with my head hung and cowered, mumbling something about how that was all I was worth. I made poor decisions in the aftermath that there are no excuses for. Even now it makes me cringe. My ex is long gone, so who cares if I can trust her anymore. But ME? I see her daily, face-to-face in the mirror, and I am still pissed at her. I expected more of myself. I deserved more from myself. I let myself down when it really counted and as a result lost a considerable amount of self-respect and the much of my ability to trust myself.

Now that I have the perspective I lacked when I was in it–it is all so clear to me, and I am ready to put in the work. I will regain the trust, I will forgive myself for not acknowledging my own worth, and I will not soak in the guilt.

No one is above it. No one. No one is above being a coward, and taking the easy way, and lying and cheating and covering up their lies and skulking around and betraying their own beliefs and hurting others. Not you, not me, not my ex, not the girl I’m dating now. I guess all we can ask of ourselves, and others, but especially ourselves, is to be as honest as we can be. That sounds so obvious, but my god it is hard. Lies try to protect our pride and our ideals of who we are and who we’re trying to be, and are dressed up as qualifications and justifications and reasonings. In fact, lies are quite often much more pleasant and pretty than the ugly, raw, vulnerable truth. It’s hard to be honest with ourselves, let alone with a partner.

Being honest doesn’t mean beating yourself up and making a big show of it. It means owning what you’ve done, humbling yourself, making amends and then learning from it and moving forward when you’ve made a mistake.

It sounds like that’s what you’ve done, Nora. I know that can’t have been easy. But I’m proud of you for taking positive steps in accepting yourself, learning from what happened, and figuring out what you really need. I like what you said about forming relationships that are real and not ideal–more on that later. I am lucky to have found someone who is a very brave and honest soul. She makes an effort daily to self-examine, and offers up the truth, even when it paints herself in an un-flattering light. It is refreshing, to say the least. It might not be easier, but that’s how I’d like to go through life.

Only two things are certain in life: one day, you will die. And in the meantime, you have to live with yourself.

Here’s to forgiving our own cowardice, accepting ourselves, and telling the ugly truths.

Your friend, Ruth

Readying to Bloom

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Dear Ruth,

If it rains there it won’t stop here. I realize that is a terrible way to start this letter but I promise it sounds beautiful in Spanish (Si por alla llueve, por aqui no escampa).

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The oatmeal in your breakfast reminds me I bought a huge pack of oats and I have to make some cookies because they are a lot tastier than oatmeal. I am happy to hear than you are singing in the Lesbian Choir (you are growing as a gay), and that this past year brought so many positive changes.

It has been an eventful year for me as well, this time last year I was also going through a breakup, alas on the opposite side of the coin. My ex-girlfriend of 3 years went through my cell phone and found very inappropriate messages between me and a girl from school. I am not sure how long I cheated on her for, I don’t even know what counts as cheating at this point since the girl in question was on the opposite coast. I had a sexual encounter with this person once while I was with my ex. So “technically” I only cheated on her one time?, one day?. I could try and justify the cheating and say it was the alcohol, a moment of weakness, that I was in heat, anything. But really, that is not how it works.

With cheating, comes an incredible amount of lying and omitting, violating your partner’s trust and the terms of the relationship. My ex did not deserve that. You did not deserve that. Once your needs are not being met in a relationship the adult thing to do is to address it, to have the open honest, painful conversation that the end is approaching. Denial has never served anyone well. I was alone in a foreign city, where I moved to be with my ex, depressed, lonely. and feeling unsupported. I developed feelings for someone else, I struggled with those feelings and I listened to my heart, not decency or common sense, and allowed myself to engage with someone else.

I have since renounced monogamy. Today, a year after being found out, (and having to move out, she kicked me out naturally) I am with two people who care for me, value me, don’t make me feel restricted and, best of all, know each other and about each other. I am being a lot more honest these days. Primarily with myself, accepting that I am not made for the stereotypical relationship that I may never have the white picket fence and the 2.2 kids. But sacrificing this fantastical notion of what a relationship should look like has allowed me to build strong REAL (not ideal) bonds with people.

You and Elise seemed to have formed a very strong bond in such a short time (You met her on Valentine’s? How romantic). I am not sure how she’s coping with your lack of trust and on-going healing process, but really it is not her job to clean up after the last mess. It’s yours. You get the broom and pick up the pieces of your soul that were scattered. You must wash them by hand and hang them out to dry. You then have to sew them back together, I warn you though, it won’t look the same. Even after ironing the last wrinkles of resentment you will be a whole new canvas.
I was tempted to tell you that you should have taken more time before committing to a new person, but I know that this is not how it works for everyone.

In actuality, it is love and not time what heals wounds.

When I think of healing, I like to think that we were born perfect. We are just trying to re-discover our heart and what it looked like before it was broken. I am just here to remind you that it is not your fault that you were hurt, that you ex’s decisions were hers to make and she selfishly sacrificed your well being for her wishes, that her lying is NOT A COMMENT ON YOUR WORTH, that you are wonderful and you are loved.

I welcome the spring with you, ready for the warmth, the flowers and the next adventure. I can sense changes coming the way flowers know it’s time to bloom. I am ready to flourish.

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Love,
Nora