Say Something

I heard this song for the first time today in my car, and it made me reflect on where I am today and where I've been.

When my (then) boyfriend was getting ready to leave last summer, I told him how much I loved him, how much I believed in him, and I told him that if he ever felt he was able to offer what I was asking him for, to please let me know:

Say something, I'm giving up on you.
I'll be the one, if you want me to.
Anywhere, I would've followed you.
Say something, I'm giving up on you.

He agreed, and then he left. And I began the long grieving process that included grappling with the really difficult feeling that everything I thought I knew to be true might not be true after all:

And I am feeling so small.
It was over my head
I know nothing at all.

I definitely felt small. And over my head:

And I will stumble and fall.
I'm still learning to love
Just starting to crawl.

I chalked it up to the fact that it was the first time I really loved somebody with every part of my being. Maybe I just didn't understand that it was possible to do that and not have it work out, even if you tried everything in your power to make it work:

Say something, I'm giving up on you.
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.
Anywhere, I would've followed you.
Say something, I'm giving up on you.

For a while I tried being in touch with him, but then I reached a point where I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep actively wanting something so much that I couldn't have, even if it seemed like the most unnatural thing in the world to give it up:

And I will swallow my pride.
You're the one that I love
And I'm saying goodbye.

I did say goodbye, and in doing so, I gained access to some deeply held grief about being abandoned and a whole lot of anger about not getting the love I needed -- in my childhood, in my marriage -- and even, as hard as it was to fathom, from the person who allowed me to fully love for the first time:

Say something, I'm giving up on you.
And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.
And anywhere, I would have followed you.
Oh-oh-oh-oh say something, I'm giving up on you.

I was sorry I couldn't get to him, but I didn't give up on him. I gave up on needing to tie myself in knots in order to make us work. I gave up on the concept that he was the only person I ever wanted to or could ever love or be loved by in that way.

It sucked, but I did it.

Say something...

And then he did. Say something. He said missed me, loved me, wants to be with me. He said he was willing to work on the things that I'd realized weren't working for me when we were together.

And I felt, well, a lot of things, but most of all, relief: that I can trust myself, my feelings, my body, my intuition. That I know what's up, and I have, the whole time...

Beautiful

Tonight my son and I had dinner together, and he was talking about what you can learn from TV, even from shows that at first glance may not seem educational, like his fave: South Park. I had to agree with him, and though both my kids think it's goofy that I am into Glee, that show does an amazing job of tackling tough topics such as teen pregnancy and body image.

I've been thinking about the body image issue a lot lately. As my daughter gets older, I want to be sure I am a good role model for her of both healthy diet and exercise and healthy self image. There's really no more powerful messenger on this topic than Mercedes from the Glee cast singing Christina Aguilera's Beautiful:

Don't look at me

Every day is so wonderful
Then suddenly it's hard to breathe
Now and then I get insecure
From all the pain, I'm so ashamed

I am beautiful no matter what they say
Words can't bring me down
I am beautiful in every single way
Yes, words can't bring me down... Oh no
So don't you bring me down today

To all your friends you're delirious
So consumed in all your doom
Trying hard to fill the emptiness
The pieces gone, left the puzzle undone
is that the way it is?

You are beautiful no matter what they say
Words can't bring you down....oh no
You are beautiful in every single way
Yes, words can't bring you down, oh, no
So don't you bring me down today...

No matter what we do
(no matter what we do)
No matter what we say
(no matter what we say)
We're the song inside the tune
Full of beautiful mistakes

Now I'm not saying it was a mistake to chop my hair off -- I did it because I really needed a dramatic change, and it delivered. But I will say that with winter approaching, I am missing my hair. I miss the way it both looked and felt under my hat. I don't like the feeling of being exposed -- either literally, to the elements -- or more figuratively -- by no longer having the masculine ideal of long hair. And it's not just that. I prefer it that way, both in terms of how it looks and in the convenience of being able to put it up.

It's ok. I know it'll grow back. And as it does, I know that I have an opportunity to embrace a beauty that is much deeper than the kind associated with the length of one's hair:

And everywhere we go
(and everywhere we go)
The sun will always shine
(the sun will always, always shine)
And tomorrow we might wake on the other side

Loving the body we're in by being kind to it -- both by not bringing it down with harsh words and by eating well and exercising -- is one of our main missions on this planet -- because it helps us be all we can be in the world.

It would be great if it were simpler, but it just isn't. Not for many of us, anyway. At the hotel gym in Milwaukee I got to talking to a woman who oversees 6 companies now -- by one measure super successful -- but her yo-yoing weight is a never-ending struggle. I reckon the answer to such struggles is to spend more time looking inward, which is a big reason I both practice and teach yoga.

I stumbled on this video a while back online, and along with Christina and Glee, it feels apropos to post it here. It's all about how women see themselves compared to how they look to others, and it's good motivation to connect with the light within so that we can both see and feel it shining, regardless of the length of our hair or our weight on the scale...

Hurt

I've been hearing "I'm sorry for blaming you" on repeat for the past few weeks, on and off. I wasn't even sure what song the lyrics were from, but the powerful female voice just kept returning. A little you tube detective work, and I found this:

I'm sorry for blaming you for everything I just couldn't do

And I've hurt myself by hurting you

As I sit here listening to her velvety voice and watching the video, tears rolling down my face, I'm struck again (as I was yesterday) at the comingling of feelings about exes and feelings about parents. I thought this song was coming up as a result of residual feelings about my marriage, and I think it was, in part. But that seems to be directly related to feelings about my father. From both the looks of the video and these lyrics, Christina feels the same way:

Would you tell me I was wrong?

Would you help me understand?

Are you looking down upon me?

Are you proud of who I am?

I think there's a part of me that would like the answers to those questions from both my ex and my father, and rather than judging that, I'm just going to try to be with it. I know full well that it may never happen, and if it did, it wouldn't necessarily make me feel differently about myself. Or at least, it wouldn't have to...