Wednesday, April 30, 2008

For the day you stood up

How friggin’ appropriate is this? Especially now. The day I stood up for me, for my needs, wants, and desires. I stood up and am becoming myself again. I stood up and said, “No, this is unacceptable. This is not okay.”

It’s a tough road ahead, that’s for damn sure. But I’m strong. I can handle it. (Granted, I still need those moments to go sit in the corner, rock back and forth and cry, but who doesn’t?)

Matt and Frannie have always been in my life. I haven’t heard from Matt in over a year – since Auntie Fran died. This morning I see a Houston area code pop up on my phone, and since I don’t recognize the number I let it go to voice mail. After the phone vibrates, letting me know I have a message, I check it. Lo and behold, it’s Matt asking me to call him. He had been going through some of Frannie’s things shortly before Passover and came across a ring my mom had given to her on her graduation day.

The past few weeks he’s been going back and forth over what to do with this ring: keep it? Give it to Mara, his daughter? When we were on the phone he told me, “You know, I think the best place for this ring is with you. I think it would be appropriate.” Cue the waterworks. After taking a semi-deep breath (can’t show emotion! Must not show feeling!) I said, “Thank you. That would mean a lot to me.” And it does. Much more than I can ever put into words.

The kicker? She had it inscribed – “For the day you stood up.”


Mom was just a few years older than Frannie when they met. How did they meet? Oddly enough, through a help wanted ad. Auntie Fran’s mother had recently passed away and her father couldn’t keep up with working, maintaining the house, and raising two children on his own. Even though Frannie was capable of doing the housework and minding her younger brother, I think her father wanted her to concentrate on her school. So, he placed an ad in the paper looking for someone to help around the house.

From what I’ve been told, Mom read the ad and thought that it sounded like a fun job to have. So she responded. When they opened the door to my mom, aged 18 or 19, they saw a semi-hippie standing in penny-loafers (no socks), Levi’s, and a peasant blouse. It was the wearing of no socks that started their friendship.

From that point forward, they were always together. If they weren’t together, or were separated by school and life, they spoke weekly. Their relationship reminds me of some of the relationships I have with my friends, and for that I am thankful.

I haven’t fully stood up yet. But I’m getting there and I know that if I waiver or wobble on my way up, “my girls” will be there to lend a steadying hand. And behind them? The ghosts of friendships past will be sending their own brand of silent support.

Friday, April 18, 2008

A rant

So, this is something I posted on Craigslist, and someone picked it up to post on his blog ( The universe seems to tell me to write more often, so I'm going to dust off this blog and post more often. Here is the aforementioned post:

How dare you. You lied to me, bald-faced, and I bought it.


I almost believed you when you said, "I have never ONCE cheated on you when we were together." That isn't a complete lie if you use the definition of together as being physically in the same place at the same time. Using that, yes, it's true that we weren't together when she was riding your purple pony. Nor was it just once, it was numerous times. Bravo – you never once cheated when we were together.

A while ago we had a conversation in which you stated that you finally understood what it felt like to be hurt - when your ex's would say, "I loved you, you hurt me", and you said you FINALLY got it. You were thinking about her.

Thank you – thank you for making me feel like an ass. All those years of self-work I did so that I can be happy with who I am? I took a major step back. All those struggles to overcome the need to slit my wrists because I felt I never measured up to "other girls", or just wasn't the person everyone wanted me to be? You proved me right.

I truly was happy with the 'me' that you married. I am very happy with the 'me' that I turned into, and am continuing to become, after the divorce. However, your actions have set me back a few emotional steps. Once again I'm comparing myself to others, once again I'm feeling like I have nothing of importance to contribute, once again I am feeling unwanted, and feeling "less".

Thank you – thank you for picking off the scabs to my (once thought healed) self-esteem. You have shown me that I AM strong and that I WILL move forward: emotionally strong, with pride in myself, strength of character, and still with the capability to love. It was painful, but great for growth, and once these wounds heal, I'll have some nifty scars.

I hear men dig scars.

You know, it's the hypocrisy that kills me – you've always said, on cheating, that everyone BUT the partner will die. So that they will live with the pain and knowledge that THEIR actions brought about so much pain and hurt to others. Tell me … why is it okay for YOU to go and f00k around WHILE WE WERE MARRIED and yet it is not okay for me to date, now that we are over? Hmmm.

Thank you – thank you for teaching me to trust my gut. When I hear that niggling voice deep down saying something is wrong, or that something feels right, I will now pay credence to it. No longer will I brush it off as doubt or second guessing. My inner-voice, my gut, is no longer silenced and is allowed uncensored speech.

I don't feel our hearts are designed to love just one person. Yes, I am pissed off that you had (at least one) affair (that I can prove beyond all reasonable doubt). Yes, I am pissed that you fell in love with her. That apparently you're still in love with her, whilst hinting to me that maybe things could work out between us. And denying the affair the entire time. Tell me – is that fair to her? She loved you, she cried over you, you ripped out her heart. You loved her, you cried over her, your heart is torn. By lying to me to save your ass, you are belittling those feelings that you two had/have. In order for all involved in this to move forward, you need to be honest. Openly, harshly honest. Honest with her, honest with me, but most of all, honest with yourself. Tear down those macho walls you've built and finally admit that you're human. During our relationship I would like to think that I allowed you a safe place to do so, but apparently I wasn't safe enough.

Want to know what else really hurts? I mean punch in the solar plexus hurt? Everyone knew, and yet nobody said a word. THAT makes me feel like a fool. And an ass. So again, thank you – thank you for teaching me that I CAN get egg on my face and live to realize that it's not the end of the world, but the beginning of a new one.