Sometimes I look at old photos and wonder: ‘What happened to that life?’
I spend so much time looking forward that I lose track of the past. Sometimes that is a good thing. We all have traumas we long to forget. We all have blessed memories we wish to keep. We just don’t always get to choose the ones we are stuck with.
I was looking through some photos earlier that were hiding in the depths of the digital ocean. It left me with so many things to think about.
I’ve come a long way in the past year and some change. So much so that I wonder if I lost myself or I evolved into something better that I won’t truly see until I look at more pictures years from now.
In the past year and some change:
I left an abusive relationship that I was held hostage in for five years. I moved into my best friend’s mom’s house. It was such a blessing. I love that woman to the end of the earth and back. She loves me as well. So much that she has my name tattooed on her along with her other kids. When I saw that, I cried.
I don’t have a biological mother in my life. I haven’t since I was fifteen years old. When she did exist in my life, I wished she didn’t. Not in a snobby teenage girl way. My biological mother was (maybe still is) an alcoholic. An abusive alcoholic to say the least.
I have mental scars as well as physical scars from those days. Every time I think I am healed it is pointed out to me that some memory or mannerism I carry along with me is flawed. You never truly realize how messed up you were raised until you recall happy childhood memories and those who are listening give you a cockeyed stare and say “That’s fucked up. That should have never happened.”
….Anyway, I moved in with my ‘adopted mom’. It was pretty okay for a while. Having a mom figure felt amazing. It made me realize a lot of things I have missed out on in life. An example of this is, my first month there I came down with a stomach bug. I called into work, which is something I rarely do. When Mama came home from her job she saw me sick on the couch and left. Minutes later she came home with ice cream and clear soda from the corner store and sat a prepared bowl next to me.
THAT MEANT THE WORLD. I never had that before. We just sat and watched sickie time movies together (my sickie time movie is Finding Nemo and the Little Mermaid… Pretty much anything that involves fish makes me feel better).
Not too long after living with Mama I met my current SO. We met by accident at the Renaissance Faire. I was there for my first time ever with Mama and my best friend. It was the end of the faire day and every one was getting shooed out of the faire grounds. My SO was (and still is) a VIP pass member and didn’t really give a crap that he was supposed to be leaving. Mainly it is because he likes to talk to everyone… and not stop.
My tribe was headed to the main gate. I had two mini hoops that I purchased at a shop and my BFF had a giant beginner’s hula hoop. I have been a hooper for years. I first started in 2008. I love to be a show off and I love to play.
My future SO was hanging around and commented on something unknown. We thought he was talking to us, so we started talking back. Turned out he wasn’t talking to us, whoops. He was now, though.
He had a didgeridoo with him. A gigantic one. If you are not familiar with what a didgeridoo is, it is an Australian aboriginal music instrument which is basically a hollow stick. You blow into the stick and it makes vibration noises like a low wowwwwoowwoowoww, if you are good at it. If not, either it won’t make a noise or it will sound like a lengthy fart.
He seemed fascinated by the giant hoop so I showed him some tricks and asked him if he wanted to try. He tried and failed. He tried though, which is better than most. He then played the didge and tried to get me to play it. I couldn’t play the thing to save my life. He kept saying “You gotta create a seal on the mouth piece. You can’t smile!” then without thinking I blurted out “I can’t stop smiling! You’re pretty!” and it went on from there.
After a few dates and getting to know each other we decided to commit to a two year agreement. What this means is before we decided to date we laid down the law on what our wants and expectations for a relationship were. Neither one of us were in the mood for surprises. We had both had previous long term relationships that we thought we could never recover from.
Getting used to dating him was weird. He was (and still is) so sweet and thoughtful and not controlling. I assumed this was all an act and it would change soon enough. After spending five years as another man’s property, it really messes up a person’s sense of what is going on in regards to dating fresh meat.
Prior to our commitment, I was a poly. Poly-amorous. Having two boyfriends and a ‘wife’ was normal to me. It was not to my SO. It was hard to let go of that lifestyle and sometimes it is today. The other unofficial boyfriend was hard to let go of. To this day he still sends me texts or e-mails saying he loves me and is thinking about me, etc.
I wouldn’t change my decision. So far only good has come from being with my SO. He’s a brilliant man. Military veteran. Has three degrees. Used to be a nuclear engineer. Mind blowing brain capacity. He’s the one who tends to give me the swift kick in the ass when I need it.
I am smart. Very smart, actually. I just have no confidence and no direction. Also, I am easily discouraged. I spent the first fifteen years of my life being told I was ugly, stupid, useless, never going to amount to anything, etc.
I know all of that is wrong, I was a 4.0 honor student in school (and so far still am in college), I used to do modeling, and i’m trying damn hard (I hope) to make something of myself now… It’s just taking a while. Those voices never go away permanently. Sure, they will go into remission but they always seem to sneak up at the worst moments. Usually when it is time for some solid decision making.
My SO is good at booting those voices to the moon and that is a good quality to have in a partner. Thanks to that I have been able to change jobs, keep up with school, get a sweet car, get my own apartment (I’ve always had some sort of room mate or significant other living with me), and he also taught me the value of raising my standards. He took notice that I constantly sell myself short and he does his best to remind me that I am capable of more and that I deserve better things.
Prior to him, I would have to admit that my lifestyle was pretty ghetto. I just didn’t think I deserved nice things or to be treated well. I know better now.
As I was looking at my old pictures, I was reminded of a few pieces of me that were either lost or forgotten.
First, I’ve lost my religion. I am Pagan. Particularly more so aimed towards Wiccan traditions, but I don’t claim that title. I practiced rituals just the same as other cultures would practice their prayers. I worked hard at keeping in contact with psychic abilities and the spirit realm. I had prophetic dreams (I still get those, but I don’t piece all the pieces together until after the fact). I took vacation days on the sabbats and had small celebrations on the esbats. I had a few acquaintances I would celebrate with on occasion.
Somehow, after I switched jobs that started to fade away. After I moved cities, I lost it all together. I have the supplies, the books, the cards, the stones, the crystals, the altars, the know how. I just lost my drive some how.
Another thing I lost my drive for was my yoga practice. I keep telling myself I will get back into my daily rituals. I really want to. I just don’t for some reason. It feels so good when I do, but yet I don’t do it often.
The same thing goes with my hooping. I used to hoop everyday. Hours a day. I had a pretty killer six pack (obviously I didn’t realize I did at the time, I always thought I was fat and ucky, but now I see the pictures and wish I could kick my past self in the crotch for thinking that) and was constantly practicing new tricks and stunts. I broke a couple light bulbs in the ceiling, a ceiling fan, and two pairs of glasses perfecting my tricks, but it was worth it.
I also miss being remotely social. Not that I was too much before, but I worked in an environment where all my co workers were like my best friends. Spending 40 hours a week in a cement room with people can really bond you in ways you couldn’t imagine.
Now I work alone. The only contact I have besides my personal trainer and my SO is that of my clients. Bless their hearts, but they are developmentally disabled so they can’t quite stimulate my social craving in the way I need.
They were right when they said “A picture is worth 1000 words”.
I just unintentionally gave myself a lot to think about.
I hope every one has a great day,