And so it is, with anyone in our lives that stay awhile and go, take something- even if so minuscule. And sometimes when we love them- or even if we don’t- we can hope they took the good. And even if they took the bad, that they will somehow do good with it- if even it is only to understand it. To be better, having stayed awhile in our life.
I was always able to have girlfriends if I wanted them.
I just remember them being meaner. Pickier. Gossiped a lot.
I was shy and didn’t care for that.
I kind of was a tom boy. Up until 8 years ago.
I disliked the colour pink and cried when my Mom made me wear frilly dresses to church.
Over the years I could tell I related better to the boys.
Yeah, it had the extra bonus of attention of the opposite sex, but I didn’t even think like that at the time. It really did make more sense for me to be around the ones that were more like me.
I’m not like the woman on the tv show ‘ The Bachelor’ who all the other ladies hate. No, no, no. By far not the case. I’m likable. I will say that girls have felt jealousy towards me- even my own two best friends ( who are still my best friends ( not jealous anymore though ) ) and that most of the time, I didn’t realize this was so until after the fact.
I feel more comfortable and at ease with a male.
But Not so much today. In fact, I am trying to branch out and get my feet better suited for female grounds. For I know in my next relationship I will only have female companions. That’s what I want.
So this swings back around to my desire to birth and raise a boy.
I feel like I understand them better. I’m more familiar and attuned to them.
They make more sense to me.
Having a girl actually scared me. I feel that I wouldn’t have been as good of a Mother, had I had a girl. Truly. I feel like I would have had less patience and been more mean.
Now I’ll be okay with having a girl.
I feel very very fortunate to have had the boy I so very much desired.
Thank you egg and sperm and timing and whatever else the heck makes up the sex of a child.
He probably half meant to and half didn’t.
Make me pick up bags of guilt when I thought of my past, and carry them around with me in my days of present.
Half meant to and half not.
I have two large tote boxes-well, the regular size used for storage- full of journals,diaries,binders, notebooks— my past writings.
Going through them the other day I pulled out recognition and familiraity.
I write of insignificant happenings in my life then, that at the time were all that I could see or think about. They were the hugest particles that I made my life about.
It clicks into place as my eyes skim over words I wrote 15 years ago.
10 years ago.
Not only did I survive those stories that are in my binders, notebooks, and journals, but I created more meaningful relationships after they were over. They DID end and I was able to carry out more in depth friendships because of the individual I had become based on those trials.
Who says past has to make one feel guilty when it can be the very thing that makes the present make sense and bearable and understandable.
There is tension and pressure in the household. Mom can’t handle us being here. Probably because of my decisions. I’ve always had guy friends-a lot more than I have had girls. But I think it’s weird for her to know I’m hanging out with them now, or when I have them over. Specially ones she has not met before. We’ve been avoiding one another for three days.
She told me she can see that my brother and I have lives and that she should get one too. Guess what. She’s been saying that for four years.
On another side of things. I have to go about my friendships differently. To trod carefully. I don’t usually. I don’t think I am managing them well. They are managng me. Because I’m floundering.
Two ‘friends’ have already dropped off because I didn’t want to be with them. There is fear in that. If I tell everyone I don’t want to be with them, do they all drop off?
I am terrified of being alone even though I know I should feel it.
But my best friends marriage two and a half years after her divorce, has never made more sense.