Thursday, June 2, 2011
Save Me, San Francisco!
Don’t you just hate it when you think you have things somewhat figured out just to realized that you still don’t know shit?
That seems to be the story of my life.
I posted that last blog and almost immediately afterwards, had a day full of anger, frustration and miscommunication. And I was feeling so positive when I hit publish...
Steven and I finally decided to have the hate-mail exchange where he basically informed me of my need to be right all the time, the fact that I put a wall up whenever things get difficult and that I take pleasure out of making other people feel like garbage. Throw in a couple of “lol”s in there and it was one of the most cynical, condescending and self-righteous emails I have received. And then he un-friended me on Facebook. I’m still trying to decide between feeling really bad about this or celebrating the loss of some incredibly negative energy.
Additionally, I’m still having miscommunication issues with my family. I really just feel like there’s not much I can do that will fulfill their expectations of the kind of daughter I should be. Sometimes, it seems like my efforts are not good enough. Maybe it’s because they aren’t. I’m the first to admit that sometimes, I make plans to hang out with my family because I know it’s been a while and it’s “just time”. Plus, I feel like if I don’t make the effort, I won’t get it in return and the unspoken animosity will simply grow bigger and bigger.
I wish they could understand that I feel this way towards almost everybody.
Whether it’s Steven, my family or my friends who are currently sitting at a separate table from me in a restaurant that we used to go together all the time, I simply feel like people just don’t “get” me. I feel like when I talk, they are trying to find out what it is I’m actually trying to say. Or when I respond to a question in an email, I get kickbacks of “what did you really mean by that?”
Just for the record, my communication style consists of the following: A) I say exactly what I feel without making anyone guess what I actually mean or B) I don’t talk about it at all.
Option A is what I use with my friends and, most of the time, my dad. I worry less about being judged from these two groups. I mean, my friends judge me all the time, but it doesn’t really bother me as long as I don’t have to hear about it. I know that when I speak and share my opinion, it’s in complete honesty. I think I do a pretty good job of pointing out my shortcomings and taking responsibility for things that I find myself complaining about. Sure, I am fully aware that I can come off as righteous. But, come on... that’s a hard thing to overcome when people look at me while I’m speaking as if I’m using a different language.
I’m not right. I’m just different. Get over it (that goes for me just as much as it does for you).
With my dad, I mostly just don’t feel judged, which is why I’m comfortable enough saying exactly what’s on my mind. Plus, he doesn’t get defensive or offended if I say something out of frustration, anger or simply just with a strong opinion. At least, he doesn’t let on to me that any of that takes place.
Option B is what I find myself using the most often with my mom, brother and friends of mine that I do easily offend. I seem to have a harder time saying what I feel without creating ill feelings. And then I get defensive because I have to change who I am in order to be around them comfortably. This displeases me and creates a sort of vicious cycle that I find myself jumping out of for periods of time so I can gather my thoughts and energy before diving back in.
I’m often left asking myself the question: “Is all this effort really worth it? Wouldn’t it be easier to just be myself and let everything and everyone else take what they want from it, even if it makes them mad?”
I guess I haven’t come as far as I want when it comes to communication. And here I am, hiding behind my laptop again, taking aim at those that have frustrated me this week.
Who’s a tough guy?
With the exception of my standard go-to comrades who do seem to speak at least the majority of my dialect, I am also finding an unbelievable amount of solace in my latest connection, Tim.
Tim. Timmay. Timothy. Brandon. Whatever his name is, one month ago, this man walked into my world and decided to change the game on me.
It’s not just about liking the same movies, relating on song lyrics and finishing each other’s sentences. This is a whole ‘nother kind of connection. It’s 100% engagement when I speak, making note of all I think and believe in and conversing with me in such a way that any holes in communication I may have experienced with others are nonexistent. In fact, they are filled with the way he listens, responds and shows genuine interest in where my head is at all times.
We have this awesome word that we use when something gets lost between us - we call it a “misfire”. Instead of bowling over it and moving on to a subject less touchy, we go back, dissect what the miscommunication was and identify where the misfire took place. I love this. Mostly, because by doing so, we ensure that we won’t have the same misstep, but also because it shows me the high regards in which he holds our conversation and connection.
When he looks at me, I am the only person in the room. When he talks to me, I am the only one who is listening.
And he is so goddamn polite and nice to others, it makes me want to cry sometimes out of sheer relief.
So, when he found out he was going to be in San Francisco visiting family during my birthday, he was devastated. Luckily, I had planned on going out of town for my birthday weekend anyway. I was actually considering going back to San Diego to do a sort of “full circle” kind of trip to wrap up my blogging adventure. However, I was having concerns about this because I wasn’t really in the most comfortable place emotionally last July when I spent that weekend in San Diego. I had so many thoughts racing through my head and felt so lonely. I was afraid that going back to that same hotel and sitting on those same rocks looking out across the same beach would just remind me of how I felt last year. Instead, I wanted to feel accomplished and proud for what I have done over the last 365 days.
What better way to do this than to spend a long weekend in San Francisco with the one person that knows how to make me feel anything BUT lonely.
I made a joke with my manager and friend, Beau, when asking for the time off at work that Hawaii had gone so well, why not book another vacation with a new boyfriend? Yes, kind of a cheap shot... but most definitely a joke. Already, there is so much more going on with this relationship than I could have imagined possibly in such a short time. It really seems like I have been getting closer and closer to finding my perfect match and this time is no different.
Except... this time... he fucking GETS me.
One month. One month ago, he came into my life. One month from now, I’ll be turning 31 and something tells me that I have a brand new journey waiting for me.
As far as all of the other relationships causing me grief at the moment, I don’t know... I’m sure I’ll just keep plugging along like usual and do my best to make the most of each interaction. I’m happy to drop some dead weight and will see what other changes I can make to encourage better communication with those that I don’t want to disconnect from.
The work never ends... but it is nice to know that I’m not alone right now. Could it be that I’ve found him? Perhaps I’ll find the answer up north...
Posted by Tina V at 1:59 PM