Danielle Hines's Blog, page 5
January 31, 2023
How Life Feels
It's five minutes before I have to wake the kids, and I don't want to move too quickly because the dog will wake up, and I want those five minutes desperately. I even tell my bladder to get lost so I can have them. I can hear my son singing in the bathroom as he brushes his teeth, and I pray that he finishes before my daughter wants the shower so that the day doesn't begin with an argument. My boyfriend would usually be downstairs right now making coffee. But he's not anymore.
The tension in our home has been building steadily for the past eight months. It's no one's fault, but it's also not good for anyone. And while he and I are joined at the hip, content and in love, it's not just us here. I am a mother of two, stepmom of one, girlfriend and human. When all the kids are with us, the first two take precedence. When it's just us and my kids, it's the first. And when it's just us (good God, it's almost never just us), I can focus on the latter two. Our lives are busy and complicated and not always easy to navigate. Throw in some big emotions, anxiety, trauma and very different personalities and BAM!
And so, for now, my boyfriend will live apart from us some of the time.
Here's what I can safely say (though still with a bit of grief in my throat): I care more about how my life feels than how it looks.
There is so much noise out there that will tell me I'm not doing ANY of this right. I can't listen to it. I am keenly aware that, optically, this is not a recipe for a happily-ever-after. And right now, I don't have a response to that. All I know is that I love these four people with everything in me, and this is the right thing for now. So we've got to get back to basics. We've got to focus on love, empathy, and what does work. So we've got to heal.
So as I get out of bed, I pet my dog and assure him I will let him out in just a minute. I knock on the bathroom door and remind my son that his sister will need the shower soon. I gently open the door to the girls' room and stroke my daughter's cheek as I whisper: "Time to get up, baby." Silently, I give thanks for this home and the people who live, love, fight, laugh and throw tantrums within it. And as I descend the stairs, knowing my boyfriend won't be waiting for me with a coffee, I let myself be sad. One day at a time, I whisper. One day at a time.
January 24, 2023
The Ex and the Re-Hash
Jenna's raven-black hair bobbed up and down on my screen as she attempted to adjust the angle of her camera. Video calling was the way of the world these days. She was a two-hour drive away and was caring for her ageing father during our province-wide confinement. Her days were spent dressing, feeding, bathing, and walking. But her nights were filled with anxiety and missing the person she'd left three short months ago before this whole pandemic had hit us hard. Jenna was lonely. Her heart was still tethered to her ex-girlfriend, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to recall why she had left the relationship in the first place.
"You're here to remind me, Danielle," she said and then took a long sip of her tea. "I texted Taryn last night after one-too-many glasses of wine. She has not replied."
"I see," I replied. "So, I suppose that somewhat answers the question I was going to ask: 'How are you?'"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not great. Dad is becoming more and more despondent. The nurse comes at noon every day to help me, but it's not going to be soon enough. He's going to have to go into a home."
My heart sank. "I'm so sorry, Jenna. Truly. That's not an easy decision to make."
She shook her head. "Nope. And I'm an only child so there's no one else to help me make it."
"I know," I said.
She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "Anyway, I'd rather not talk about that today," she said in an attempt to pull herself together. "I wanted to talk about the other thing that is constantly running through my mind these days. I want to talk about Taryn."
I sat back in my chair and took a sip of water. "Of course, honey. Let's talk about Taryn," I said. "So, you texted her last night. Is that the first communication since February?"
Jenna sighed. "From me, yes. She had texted and called a few times back in March when she heard I was moving in with Dad to take care of him. I didn't answer her."
"OK, that's what I thought. I recall you saying you needed space."
She nodded. "Yeah, everything was still too fresh. Now, though... I'm finding myself remembering all the good things. She was so funny and spontaneous. I miss that. I miss the joy she'd bring."
I smiled, recalling Taryn's outrageous sense of humour. It was one thing to be at a bar or a party with someone like her, perhaps another to be in a relationship. "Totally understandable. No one is black and white, honey. She had plenty of good traits."
Jenna looked straight at me. "And plenty of not-so-good."
I cleared my throat. "OK, I'm just a friend here. I am not a therapist..."
"I know!" she exclaimed.
"OK, just so we're clear," I reminded her sternly. This was a dangerous game. My own personal feelings about Taryn were not important. Jenna wanted to remember what her feelings were.
"We're clear, Danielle. Don't worry."
I sat forward and lowered my shoulders. "You left her because you could no longer be the tiny planet to her blazing sun, honey. She was exhausting for you. She needed constant attention, affirmation, and entertainment."
Jenna nodded wordlessly.
"She was a cycle of neediness, but she hid it behind this fabulous exterior—it was a total mindfuck. She seemed like she had it all together, but her veneer was thin and required continuous propping up by you and, at times, her employees." Taryn owned a small candle shop downtown with two part-time people—both college students—who helped her run it.
I continued. "And what would please her or make her happy would constantly change. Sometimes she'd love so-and-so at the shop down the way, but then he'd do something she didn't like and so she hated him again. And you had to agree! You were not entitled to your own view of things, not really—not if you were going to be let into her world."
Jenna was tearing up, but prompted me to continue.
"She was rarely overt in her disapproval. It was always more subtle. If you displeased her by not agreeing or seeing things her way, she would look away. Or give you the silent treatment. She'd withhold love and affection, all the while claiming nothing was wrong. It was maddening! You constantly questioned yourself and your actions. This went on and on, Jenna. Your world was Taryn."
"I know," she said slowly.
"What you told me back in February, honey, confirmed what I had been witnessing on the outside for years. You said Taryn had no depth. You said she was too afraid to go deep because there was only shame beneath her surface, and she was too afraid to face it. So, she developed this shell of a personality to keep her from having to experience anything true."
"I said all that?" she asked in earnest.
"Yes," I replied, nodding. "I re-read the texts you sent me before we hopped on this call. You said all of that."
"Whew," she said, letting out a long-held breath.
"Jenna, I have no doubt that Taryn can be absolutely lovely at times. In fact, I know she can. I have seen it. But this other side of her casts such a huge shadow. And the main issue with it is not only how it affected you as a partner but how she refuses to acknowledge it. How can you work with that?"
Jenna rubbed her forehead. "Sometimes she'd get close, but then it would just get manipulative again. It was the getting close to honesty that kept me hooked for so long."
I wanted to reach through the screen and hug her. "I bet. It's so hard not to see potential in the ones we love and rest our hopes there when things are hard. But without any real attempt at change or even a sense of accountability, she is spinning her wheels. This means you are, too, as long as you are tied to her."
My friend took another deep breath. "Thank you. OK. This is what I needed."
I smiled. "I get it. Listen, you're going through a lot. Give yourself a break. It's so normal to miss the good stuff."
Jenna wiped at her eyes again and waved to me. "I need to go have a good cry," she said. "And possibly pour myself something stronger than this tea."
"Whatever you need, love," I said. "I'm here."
She sighed. "And if she texts me back?"
"One day at a time," I said.
January 17, 2023
Follow
She moved through the trees with ease as if it was where she came from—as if she had been rooted and born here. Her long black hair draped gracefully over her dark green cape, and her worn brown boots made the barest of thuds against the mossy floor of the forest.
He watched her patiently, wondering where she was going. She held herself tall, with confidence. He knew if he attempted to follow her, she would hear. Her very being told him she knew herself as well as she knew these woods.
So this was it. This was the moment to decide. He had seen her three times before, and each time she seemed to appear out of nowhere. She was spectre-like in her presence, but his body did not lie. He felt her even more than he saw her.
She was headed toward the hill, perhaps to get water from the stream. So now he had to ask himself: was he her witness or her man?
Her ebony hair shone blue beneath the dewy canopy of firs. Her hair was his North Star, his lighthouse. He was drawn to her by something beyond himself—something dense, yet light. There was a voice in his gut that told him knowing her would mean meeting himself—would mean facing a love so fierce it would break him open before putting him back together: whole and free.
He followed. Staying thirty paces behind, he risked losing her but never did. They kept a rhythm that united them in spite of the space between them. And as she began to scale the hill, he swore he saw her give the scantest of glances over her shoulder, but she did not waver.
Any doubt he had previously held lay in pieces at the foot of the hill. He was now taking each step fully present and aware that it was exactly where he was meant to be. He was being breathed by something pure and perfect. This was what moved him. This was what finally brought him to her side.
“I’ve seen you before,” she said softly without turning to him. She was kneeling by the stream, washing her face and hands. He wondered if she could see his reflection in the waters below. Hers was blurred by the ripples.
His voice was hidden beneath layers of wonder, nerves and lust. It took him a moment to find it. “And I you,” he uttered finally.
“I knew you would follow me eventually. I’m glad it was today.” She dried her hands on her cape and stood.
Realizing at that moment he had never seen her face, his breath caught in his throat, waiting for her to turn. As she did, he was met with eyes that had haunted his dreams these ten years at least, but he never recalled them until this very second. A decade of dreams swelled up and landed in his chest as he tried to take her in.
“I know you…” was all he could say.
She laughed at that. “You do not,” she said lightly. “But I take your meaning. I understand.”
To be seen and heard by her was almost too much. He had to find his bearings before he muddled this up forever. That fear struck him and existed beside a quiet knowing that he would take her hand and never let go. And that, remarkably, she would let him.
“May I lead you back down?” he offered, taking a step closer to her.
She smiled and coloured slightly. “You may,” she said.
He offered his arm, and she took it. Searching his mind for something witty to say, he was only coming up short. Even if she was his destiny, even if their being together was written in the stars, he had to have the words to match the moment. Anything less was pathetic, surely. His heart raced, and he stifled a frustrated growl. She noticed.
Squeezing his arm lightly, she looked up at him. “All is well,” she said. “I feel it too.”
Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger
**originally written December 2016
