An important letter

My Dearest Ron,

First of all, let me explain why I'm reading a prepared letter rather than articulating what I need to say directly. I need a little help. I have had a lifelong fear to ask for what I need or want. It's not rational, even if the person I'm asking loves me deeply and desires my happiness. I freeze with panic at the thought of speaking up for myself. You've witnessed my tendency to underestimate my assets and worth; it's frustrating for you and, even more so, for me. Without over-analyzing it, my reticence comes from how I coped with my father. It felt safer for me to be silent, stuffing my feelings and needs, rather than risking arousing his anger, disapproval or punishment. Obviously, you are not Dad and there is so reasonable or just cause for me to be afraid to express my concerns, desires and needs with you. I hope you understand why this time, I am reading this letter.  I hope to conquer my fear so that the next time I have something important to share with you, I'll be looking directly into your deep, sea-blue eyes while saying it.

What I want is my own car. (There, it's that simple.) Bottom, line, I want the autonomy, empowerment and sense of ownership that my own vehicle will give me. You have been loving, kind and generous to let me use your Yaris whenever I needed it. The arrangement has worked out for us and has been practical. But, this is an important matter for me. If I were able, I would go out and purchase the car I want and need. Presently, I don't have the means to do that, especially since retiring a year ago... with your encouragement, blessing and approval. Therefore, I am asking you to buy it for me. If you strongly feel you can't, I will have to put more time and energy into taking care of myself by returning to work so I will have the means to fulfill this need.

Ron, you know that since we met I haven't asked you for much. I intend this to be the beginning of better communication on our part. I've been anxious about how you will receive this, but my need for my own car is no small thing for me. Now that I've said what's been on my mind, I'm taking a big, deep breath, knowing that you want our relationship to grow stronger and deeper, and that you love me and care about me very much. These are feelings I return to you with all my heart. 

After you reflect upon this, we will talk.

I love you truly and deeply,

It's complicated

Yes, indeed. My relationship is complicated. Do I stay? Do I move on? Is it him? Is it me? Are there any more chances for me? Do I have to be happy or is happiness over-rated? Is unhappiness a red flag  or yellow flag? I am not in love with him. I am quite annoyed by him, in fact. Yet again, the man in my life embarrasses me. Did I chose him because I was desperate;  because I don't feel worthy of generosity; because I refuse to let go of my father's emotional abuse and control; because I am a doormat? I am returning to my old pattern of passive aggression and craving freedom. I am also still afraid to make demands or even just consideration. I feel unworthy of anything, anyone, better. We clash. I too often mute my feelings and thoughts, keeping them inside where they fester and swell. Why am I doing this again? I have relinquished my independence again as I fall into the expectation that "daddy" would always take care of me... but at a high cost to my personal happiness. Do I weigh the pros and cons and tally the data to see where the scale tilts? Not much in life comes without a price in some form. I feel disconnected from him, both platonically and romantically. I am withdrawing. I am not sure I can make this work. He is not a bad person and he means well. But, so was my father and he deeply injured me. I am not sure about what I should do; I am paralyzed.

I can be a lemon, too.

I was finally struck with the realization that at times I am the lemon souring my life. More specifically, it's my poor attitude, juicy with self-pity,  that needs to be transformed into lemonade. The other night I was watching an old Werner Herzog documentary about the Mezquitos in Nicaragua during the war in the 1980's. Immediately I saw through the lens of the real suffering of real victims by the injustice of a bad war that I am so, so fortunate. My address is Easy Street and I am not lacking for the necessities of life. But, I also have the luxury of a worry-free life and the blessing of excellent health. I feel like "the 1%" when I compare myself to the victims of the Sandinistas and to the peoples who are suffering today from injustice, violence, hunger, poverty, addictions, and pestilence. It's so easy to lose sight of what I have in our "land of plenty" and "land of opportunity", imperfect as it is for there are many who suffer here, too. But, taking it all into account, the Universe is taking excellent care of me. But... without lemons there's be no lemonade. Think about that...

Rocky Roads and Lemonade

I underwent a colonoscopy yesterday and I feel lousy. I have no desire to eat or drink. I slept and slept and slept and still just want to sleep, 24 hours later. My head is athrob in a vise-like pain across my forehead. My spiritual peace is not in balance, either. My heart feels uncertain about my love life. Unfortunately, my sad financial picture plays into this… but it shouldn’t. I have murmuring thoughts of coming out of retirement to be independent once more. I am not always happy at home with Ron. I am the one to blame. He is just who he is. He is earnest, authentic and loyal but my lifestyle expectations clash with his. Beggars can’t be choosers, so I go along with.  My wish is to be independently living and still have adventures with Ron. Oh, I don’t know but yes I do. My weakness gets me into these unhappy relationships. I’m at a low point, physically and spiritually and it will pass. This stretch of road is rocky but it will surely even out. It always does, and I will always know that I can make lemonade from the lemons in my life.