Friday, January 22, 2010

After the second glass of wine...

..and no dinner..well, I really enjoyed the movie He's Just Not That Into You.
I had this guy leave me a voicemail at work, so I called him at home, and then he emailed me to my BlackBerry, and so I texted to his cell, and now you just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies. It's exhausting.

I play the technology run around a lot. But not the rejection one!

Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up. If a guy punches you he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, Every story we're told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy ending we don't learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don't, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe... it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is... just... moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope.

We are told a lot of stuff growing up. Little messages that stick in our brain; haunt us, almost surreptiously, at odd moments.

Like Beth ( or was it Janine?) in the movie, whose husband cheats on her and who automatically thinks it is her fault he cheated, that if she had been more loving/fun/whatever then he wouldn't have cheated, never mind that he was a first class jerk...well, like Beth (or Janine) I was programmed to think that, when things go awry, it is my fault. Programmed for automatic blame and apology.

I may dissect each little thing and put myself out there so much but at least that means that I still care. ... You may not get hurt or make an ass of yourself that way but you don't fall in love that way either. You have not won. You're alone. I may do a lot of stupid shit but I'm still a lot closer to love than you are.

I do a lot of stupid shit. (Excuse the language but it is just so descriptive. Or, perhaps, that is the wine talking?Anyway...) I over think, over analyze, over dissect. But at least I do care. I try. I move on.

That striving has to make a difference.

We can only learn to know ourselves and do what we can / namely, surrender our will and fulfill God's will in us. St Teresa of Avila. My current reading.

St Teresa of Avila. The Way of Perfection. He's Just Not That Into You. Family time.

And another quote. From The Survivor's Guide to Homeschooling.

My time is something I can give my children now in a way that I won't be able to give them later. It is time that I can be with them....I WILL NEVER HAVE THIS TIME AGAIN. MANY THINGS CAN WAIT BUT KIDS GROW UP.

Many of mine are grown. But the family time, the movies and texts, they are important.

All part of that striving. Part of my vocation as wife, mother, teacher. Part of my dissecting. Part of who I am.


Anonymous said...

love it Leonie. I am longing for time with you! Some wine and lots of chatting.
Life usually doesn't go like we think it will. And as we get older, we realize, this is the rest of my life, better do something about it! I think that's where we are. At least, that's where I am!

Hugs, Lois

Chris said...

What stood out to me in your writing is the influences girls have about boy/girl relationships. The idea that your life begins when you find Mr. Right or that you will be happy when he comes along is so wrong. I want my girls to live "in the now". I hope they are happy knowing their lives are valid and have already begun.

Leonie said...

Yes, Lois, we need to chat! Can't wait1 And, Chris, what you speak of is def9initely an unschooling concept - making kids lives great now, not just as preparation for adulthood.