The strangest thought came to me today.
I was walking down the corridor at work, thinking about my finances in my new place (and how they'll be a little tighter than expected thanks to the new pay schedule), and considering how I can get a roomie if I need the spare cash.
The idea of living with a stranger just doesn't appeal to me. I've always known that. I mean, I've been living on my own pretty much since I left home. I figured that I'm just a private person. Or, how I describe it sometimes: I like to be able to walk around naked if I want to, ha ha ha!
But then, it suddenly occurred to me.
I'm terrified of intimacy.
WELL! No WONDER I've had such a hard time making new friends! No WONDER I haven't had a boyfriend in 5 years!
It all makes sense.
Now, some of you may be shaking your head and saying, "Leah, The Queen of TMI, afraid of intimacy? I call bullshit."
And you would be half-right. The relationships that I've forged over years and years (ie. the vast majority of my current circle of friends), I'm okay with. It's the new people that scare the bejeezus out of me. Especially men. Men are the scariest. The idea of letting people get close to me (who haven't already been shown to be "trustworhy") just gives me the willies.
And that goes for physical and emotional closeness. For some reason, I have no problem with purely intellectual closeness. Which would account for my large number of long-distance friends.
I could rationalize this state of being by telling myself that it's okay to be as timid as I am. I was bullied all through elementary school and junior high, ostracised from my major program in uni (the folk in my minor program were awesome, though), and have spent the last 5 years having my heart torn to shreds by man after man after man. In fact, the only success I've had with men (apart from one or two notable exceptions) have been on the short term. As in one-night term.
SO yeah, I have plenty of reasons to justify my fear. But it seems that's all I've been doing in last years: justifying my fear.
I just have to figure out how to get over my fear without sending myself spiralling back in...
For now, though, I'm not going to think about it. I'm not going to plan or process or analyse. No schemes. No research. No more labels. I'm just going to move into my new house with Fezzik and Pandora, and let it be my clean slate. :)
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Friday, January 18, 2013
A Quote-Post
Today's post is brought to you by a passage from Tom Robbins' "Still Life With Woodpecker" which I'm currently reading.
I think that it's just a great quote and worth sharing.
I know it's long...but seriously. Read it. :)
"There is lovemaking that is bad for a person, just as there is eating that is bad. That boysenberry cream pie from Thrift-E Mart may appear inviting, may, in fact, cause all nine hundred taste buds to carol from the tongue, but in the end, the sugars, the additives, the empty calories clog arteries, disrupt cells, generate fat, and rot teeth. Even potentially nourishing foods can be improperly prepared. There are wrong combinations and improper preparations in sex as well. Yes, one must prepare for a fuck-the way an enlightened priest prepares to celebrate mass, the way a great matador prepares for the ring: with intensification, with purification, with a conscious summoning of sacred power. And even that won't work if the ingredients are poorly matched: oysters are delectable, so are strawberries, but mashed together...(?!) Every nutritious sexual recipe calls for at least a pinch of love, and the fucks that rate four-star rankings from both gourmets and health-food nuts use cupfuls. Not that sex should be regarded as therapeutic or to be taken for medicinal purposes-only a dullard would hang such a millstone around the nibbled neck of a lay-but to approach sex without warmth is to dine night after night in erotic greasy spoons. In time, one's palate will become insensitive, one will suffer (without knowing it) emotional malnutrition, the skin of the soul will fester with scurvy, the teeth of the heart will decay. Neither duration nor proclamation of commitment is necessarily the measure-there are ephemeral explosions of passion between strangers that are more erotic sense than many lengthy marriages, there are one-night stands in Jersey City more glorious than six-month affairs in Paris-but finally there is a commitment, however brief; a purity, however threatened; a vulnerability, however concealed;; a generosity of spirit, however marbled with need; and honest caring, however singed with lust, that must be present if couplings are to be salubrious and not slow poison"
Damn, I love this guy. You all need to read his stuff. I promise you will find at least ONE of his novels that speaks to you.
I think that it's just a great quote and worth sharing.
I know it's long...but seriously. Read it. :)
"There is lovemaking that is bad for a person, just as there is eating that is bad. That boysenberry cream pie from Thrift-E Mart may appear inviting, may, in fact, cause all nine hundred taste buds to carol from the tongue, but in the end, the sugars, the additives, the empty calories clog arteries, disrupt cells, generate fat, and rot teeth. Even potentially nourishing foods can be improperly prepared. There are wrong combinations and improper preparations in sex as well. Yes, one must prepare for a fuck-the way an enlightened priest prepares to celebrate mass, the way a great matador prepares for the ring: with intensification, with purification, with a conscious summoning of sacred power. And even that won't work if the ingredients are poorly matched: oysters are delectable, so are strawberries, but mashed together...(?!) Every nutritious sexual recipe calls for at least a pinch of love, and the fucks that rate four-star rankings from both gourmets and health-food nuts use cupfuls. Not that sex should be regarded as therapeutic or to be taken for medicinal purposes-only a dullard would hang such a millstone around the nibbled neck of a lay-but to approach sex without warmth is to dine night after night in erotic greasy spoons. In time, one's palate will become insensitive, one will suffer (without knowing it) emotional malnutrition, the skin of the soul will fester with scurvy, the teeth of the heart will decay. Neither duration nor proclamation of commitment is necessarily the measure-there are ephemeral explosions of passion between strangers that are more erotic sense than many lengthy marriages, there are one-night stands in Jersey City more glorious than six-month affairs in Paris-but finally there is a commitment, however brief; a purity, however threatened; a vulnerability, however concealed;; a generosity of spirit, however marbled with need; and honest caring, however singed with lust, that must be present if couplings are to be salubrious and not slow poison"
Damn, I love this guy. You all need to read his stuff. I promise you will find at least ONE of his novels that speaks to you.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
On Heartlands
This is something that I've wondered about for a long while.
I've been to a handful of countries in my short life. Some of them really made a lasting impression on me, some didn't. Also, there are some countries that I feel instinctively drawn to, whether I've been there or not.
It all started with Scotland. Maybe it was because I was told I had "royal Scottish blood" when I was little that first raised my interest in the land of my forebears. I now know that my royal lineage goes back to 700 years ago, ,and not much use to me now, ha ha! I'm not entirely convinced that there is such a thing as "royal Scottish blood" anyhow, as I think the real rulers of Scotland were the ancient chieftains, not the English aristocracy that moved in later :P
But I digress.
From when I was little, I wanted to go to Scotland. And when I got there, I felt like I was where I belonged. I felt a kinship with the island where my great-great-great grandmother had lived before her family emigrated to Upper Canada in 1845 (I even visited what was left of her home on the Isle of Skye!). Also The Isle of Lewis, where various other ancestors were clan chiefs. I fell in love with the people, the culture, and with the land itself.
I figured it made sense, as it was in my blood.
But if that's so, should I also feel a connection of some kind with a country that runs even stronger in my veins: Finland. My paternal grandmother was born there, making my ancestry a quarter Finnish.
But I don't. Oh, I'd like to visit someday, so see the country my grandmother was from...but I don't feel that invisible draw to go there as I did for Scotland.
Another example: I lived in Korea for a year. I really enjoyed it, but I never felt like I belonged. I visited Wales for a day, and decided that I'd happily move there.
It was a feeling, something deep inside. A tiny voice that whispered "You're home, you're meant to be here."
And for the strangest reason, one of the countries that I'm drawn to, for no good reason, it Hawaii. Not tropical resort, 10-day vacation with hotel and airfare Hawaii. Native, Ōlelo Hawaiʻi, country in it's own right Hawaii.
But why?
Was I there in a past life? Is it a sign that I should go there at some point in my current one? Is it just a matter of cultural appeal? Genetic throwback?
It seems that every time I visit a place that I connect with, I shortly discover another through book or film that seems to resonate with me .
I've accumulated such a list of countries that I have fallen in love with (as well as friends in all of them) that I don't know HOW I'm going to keep up with visitation rights! Ha ha ha!
I've been to a handful of countries in my short life. Some of them really made a lasting impression on me, some didn't. Also, there are some countries that I feel instinctively drawn to, whether I've been there or not.
It all started with Scotland. Maybe it was because I was told I had "royal Scottish blood" when I was little that first raised my interest in the land of my forebears. I now know that my royal lineage goes back to 700 years ago, ,and not much use to me now, ha ha! I'm not entirely convinced that there is such a thing as "royal Scottish blood" anyhow, as I think the real rulers of Scotland were the ancient chieftains, not the English aristocracy that moved in later :P
But I digress.
From when I was little, I wanted to go to Scotland. And when I got there, I felt like I was where I belonged. I felt a kinship with the island where my great-great-great grandmother had lived before her family emigrated to Upper Canada in 1845 (I even visited what was left of her home on the Isle of Skye!). Also The Isle of Lewis, where various other ancestors were clan chiefs. I fell in love with the people, the culture, and with the land itself.
I figured it made sense, as it was in my blood.
But if that's so, should I also feel a connection of some kind with a country that runs even stronger in my veins: Finland. My paternal grandmother was born there, making my ancestry a quarter Finnish.
But I don't. Oh, I'd like to visit someday, so see the country my grandmother was from...but I don't feel that invisible draw to go there as I did for Scotland.
Another example: I lived in Korea for a year. I really enjoyed it, but I never felt like I belonged. I visited Wales for a day, and decided that I'd happily move there.
It was a feeling, something deep inside. A tiny voice that whispered "You're home, you're meant to be here."
And for the strangest reason, one of the countries that I'm drawn to, for no good reason, it Hawaii. Not tropical resort, 10-day vacation with hotel and airfare Hawaii. Native, Ōlelo Hawaiʻi, country in it's own right Hawaii.
But why?
Was I there in a past life? Is it a sign that I should go there at some point in my current one? Is it just a matter of cultural appeal? Genetic throwback?
It seems that every time I visit a place that I connect with, I shortly discover another through book or film that seems to resonate with me .
I've accumulated such a list of countries that I have fallen in love with (as well as friends in all of them) that I don't know HOW I'm going to keep up with visitation rights! Ha ha ha!
Sunday, January 6, 2013
On New Starts and New Years
Well, it's a new year, and with the new year has come some pretty big changes in my life.
First of all is my newest companion. I adopted a retired racing greyhound from Greyhound Supporters of the National Capital Region, and brought him home on December 20. I named him Fezzik. This is a double reference: "The Princess Bride" obviously, but also Doctor Who, because fezzes are cool! Ha ha ha! Aside from some housebreaking issues, things are going really well. He's a pretty great dog and as soon as he's housebroken, I think we're going to be the best of buddies!
The second big deal is the start of the egg donation process. I'm donating eggs to a friend who can't conceive himself. So I'm starting off the year with the first step: the psychological assessment, followed by the medical assessment in March, and legal proceedings in between. If all goes according to plans, the surrogate will conceive at the end of summer this year, and nine months later, there will be a mini Leah running around somewhere. :P
Another big change of the year is that I had my last session with Dr. Kaiserman today. I've been seeing him since March of 2012, when I started having anxiety attacks. Even though it was realized fairly early on that I didn't need therapy as such, it did me a great deal of good to have someone to talk to and discuss my fears and frustrations with. It's not that I don't have friends to talk to, but I've always felt that it wasn't my business to unload my problems on friends. I'm hoping that I've learned better now!
I think the biggest change of the year, though, is the BIG MOVE! at the end of January, I'm moving out of my little bachelorette pad into a two-bedroom townhome. It's in the same neighbourhood as I'm in now, which is nice, and I'll even have a little fenced backyard for Fezzik.
So with a new dog and bigger digs, along with a new, healthier attitude to life (cutting the therapist strings!), I'm hoping that the 2013 will be a year for many new new starts and happy times.
A funny side note: I've complained many times in this blog about how long I went without sex. It made me really, really miserable to be so long without physical contact. Well, now that this is no longer the case, I'm suddenly feeling SO much better. It's amazing how something as simple as one single night of intimacy can change one's outlook so much. In the few weeks that have followed, I'm suddenly feeling lighter, less burdened by the weight of my life.
I don't sit and cry about the fact that I'm single, or about why my heart was broken by the last guy I liked, of why the one I currently like doesn't like me back. For the first time since I don't know when, I'm happy to just let life happen, and to trust that it will all work out eventually. I feel like even though I still have things in my life that I'm not completely happy about, that they don't seem so hopeless.
I guess what I'm meaning to say is that 2013 has a lot of promise. I feel good for the first time in a long while. I have a new man in my life (albeit the four-legged furry kind, ha ha!), I'm learning to stand on my own two feet, and be the mistress of my own domain (both physical and emotional).
So here's to 2013! The potential is there, all I have to do is keep the momentum going to make sure that it's a spectacular year! :)
First of all is my newest companion. I adopted a retired racing greyhound from Greyhound Supporters of the National Capital Region, and brought him home on December 20. I named him Fezzik. This is a double reference: "The Princess Bride" obviously, but also Doctor Who, because fezzes are cool! Ha ha ha! Aside from some housebreaking issues, things are going really well. He's a pretty great dog and as soon as he's housebroken, I think we're going to be the best of buddies!
The second big deal is the start of the egg donation process. I'm donating eggs to a friend who can't conceive himself. So I'm starting off the year with the first step: the psychological assessment, followed by the medical assessment in March, and legal proceedings in between. If all goes according to plans, the surrogate will conceive at the end of summer this year, and nine months later, there will be a mini Leah running around somewhere. :P
Another big change of the year is that I had my last session with Dr. Kaiserman today. I've been seeing him since March of 2012, when I started having anxiety attacks. Even though it was realized fairly early on that I didn't need therapy as such, it did me a great deal of good to have someone to talk to and discuss my fears and frustrations with. It's not that I don't have friends to talk to, but I've always felt that it wasn't my business to unload my problems on friends. I'm hoping that I've learned better now!
I think the biggest change of the year, though, is the BIG MOVE! at the end of January, I'm moving out of my little bachelorette pad into a two-bedroom townhome. It's in the same neighbourhood as I'm in now, which is nice, and I'll even have a little fenced backyard for Fezzik.
So with a new dog and bigger digs, along with a new, healthier attitude to life (cutting the therapist strings!), I'm hoping that the 2013 will be a year for many new new starts and happy times.
A funny side note: I've complained many times in this blog about how long I went without sex. It made me really, really miserable to be so long without physical contact. Well, now that this is no longer the case, I'm suddenly feeling SO much better. It's amazing how something as simple as one single night of intimacy can change one's outlook so much. In the few weeks that have followed, I'm suddenly feeling lighter, less burdened by the weight of my life.
I don't sit and cry about the fact that I'm single, or about why my heart was broken by the last guy I liked, of why the one I currently like doesn't like me back. For the first time since I don't know when, I'm happy to just let life happen, and to trust that it will all work out eventually. I feel like even though I still have things in my life that I'm not completely happy about, that they don't seem so hopeless.
I guess what I'm meaning to say is that 2013 has a lot of promise. I feel good for the first time in a long while. I have a new man in my life (albeit the four-legged furry kind, ha ha!), I'm learning to stand on my own two feet, and be the mistress of my own domain (both physical and emotional).
So here's to 2013! The potential is there, all I have to do is keep the momentum going to make sure that it's a spectacular year! :)
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