Bars and Tattoos

This weekend was one of the best I’ve had in years.  It should be noted, though, that I’m incredibly easy to please.  It doesn’t take a lot to amuse me or make me happy.  Which is what makes it even more amazing that it took this long for me to follow my happiness.

On Saturday, I slept till noon.  That’s always a nice thing.  When I finally dragged my ass out of bed, I headed straight to the tattoo shop.  I have several that I want, but there was one in particular I’d been thinking of for a long while.  I’d worked a couple extra hours the last week, and decided to use those few extra bucks to treat myself.

 

 

Those words are lyrics from my favorite song, “A Murder of One”, by my favorite band, Counting Crows.  For me, they have a personal meaning.  I don’t want to waste my life.  I’ve wasted a lot of time. I don’t usually look at it as a waste, necessarily; I spent a lot of time and energy working on something that ultimately failed.  I learned lessons, gained some wisdom and insight, and got The Most Awesome Kid Ever out of it.  But all that time, nothing was about me.  My wants, my needs…they all got pushed aside.  And I was ignorant enough to believe that that was just what happened when a woman becomes a wife and mother.  It IS NOT.  I figured that out much too late.  But I’m making up for it now.

And I’m changing.  Growing.  When I was in high school, I had the typical teenage girl self-esteem issues.  I never thought I was pretty and hated my body.  Other than that, though, I was comfortable with everything else about me.  I loved myself, my brain, my heart, who I was as a person.  I knew what I wanted and I went after it.  I was strong for my friends, for myself.  Years later I was even told that my self-possession intimidated some people, which I found odd.  But I guess, in reality, I was odd.  It would explain why a lot of the people who signed my senior yearbook described me as “unique”.  That’s just a polite way of calling me a weirdo.

But at some point, I became this cowering, simpering, terrified-of-everything woman with absolutely zero self-confidence.  There were times I wasn’t even sure of what I was feeling and why.  If you had looked up the definition of co-dependent, my picture would have been right next to it.  But once the ex went to rehab, I started getting help for my own issues.  I started to remember who I was and what I wanted and that I was my own person.    He was in rehab for 3 months.  The kid was 1 ½, and I’d been a stay at home mom.  But for those 3 months, I made it work.  I had help, of course.  I’m incredibly blessed to have some of the best friends and family on the planet.  But I got a job, and Sarah and I got by.  I’ll never forget what I told him the first night he was home:  “I love you, and I want to work it out.  I want to be with you.  But I don’t need you anymore.”  And I didn’t.  I could live without him, and it took me having to do it to realize I could.  Of course, it was another 3 years before it ended, but still.  All those steps brought me here.

Some of this is just remembering who I was before marriage.  Another part is exploring who I want to be now.  So I try new things, talk to new people.  My BFF convinced me to go to a bar alone Saturday night.  I don’t mind doing things alone; I go to the movies by myself, take myself out to dinner, that sort of thing.  But going to a bar alone seemed a little scary.  The Bestie gave me a few tips, though, and I did it. 

I sat at the bar, ordered a drink, and listened to the band. I watched people be drunk and crazy.  I sat and drank a little, and thought.  One of The Bestie’s tips was to set a time limit.  Not to give me a curfew, but more so that I’d sit there for a while without giving up on myself and leaving.  I found myself staying past my time limit because the band was good and I was enjoying just sitting there and listening.  The Bestie had said it would be empowering.  I had my doubts while I was there; some things are just more fun with friends.  And while I don’t know that I’d necessarily do it again, it did end up being kind of empowering.  I know I can do it, if I so choose. I learned something new about myself.

I’m changing.  I’m growing.  I’m not gonna waste my life.  MY life.  And on days that I’m struggling, on days where I get a little negative, now I have a reminder.