T.L. Gray's Blog, page 33

Drill Sergeants Hard at Work

Post by Awesome Shit My Drill Sergeant Said.

The Flight

Power of the Birthday Wish

My mind is all over the place today.  I feel like crawling back beneath the soft sheets of my bed and slipping off into an amazing and creative adventure, or perhaps return to the romantic dream of a witty smartass (I know, I know… I’m a weirdo – I’m more impressed with clever sarcasm than superfluous and flowery words).  However, I have responsibilities and duties to perform, so I push forward.  I drag myself through the routine of exercise and work. I think I’m starting to feel a little burnout – and need to re-energize.  It’s been a while since I’ve been in the woods to recharge myself.  Between moving, getting acclimated to my new place, catching up on work interrupted, adjusting to my new life,  and surviving the summer heat.  I’ve missed the woods. Everything in my life is changing… and it just feels like it’s happening way too fast. I turn around and some very important people are missing… they’re not there anymore – replaced by empty space. And then there are new people, some whom I’m afraid to open my heart for fear they too will someday vanish.  But it isn’t about me today.

Today is my best friend’s birthday, and as much as I’m happy for him and want to celebrate this day with him, I feel disconnected – lost, useless.  Not only has my location recently changed, but so has everything else, including my relationships.  As I take off flying, so many of the people I care about most in this world are left standing on the ground or flying in a different direction.  I miss them, but I can’t let them hold me back or keep me grounded.  I wish they were flying with me, but it seems our journeys are all headed in varying paths.

I couldn’t have made it these last couple of years without my best friend and the many times he’s listened to me pour my heart out in texts, messages, phone calls, and Skypes.  He was a voice of reason when I was lost in unreasonableness.  He was a calming wind in a turbulent storm.  Sometimes he was the storm that stirred stagnant waters.  He’s been a shoulder and a sounding block.  He’s dried my tears and caused many of them too. We fight with each other about as much as we encourage one another because we’re so different and offer a different view of the world. He’s arrogant and opinionated, loving and understanding, rude and respectful.   I love him with a love that surpasses and is deeper than some shallow relationship – a true friendship of respect and admiration, but I don’t often like him very much.  I think his tastes in music, culture and movies are awful and outdated, but I love and admire that he dances to his own beat and doesn’t follow the crowd.  He’s a unique character, a bitter pill to swallow sometimes, but has the radiance of a beautiful sun – he’s been a bright spot in my darkened world. He’s one of the most talented writers I’ve ever had the privilege to read.  He’d hate that I’m writing about him right now because he’s so introverted and paranoid about his privacy.  So I won’t say his name and  pray that he doesn’t read this.  If he does, I’m sure I’ll get his long, argumentative email about keeping his shit private.

What now? I needed him when my world was falling apart.  He jumped into the waters without hesitation and threw me a lifeline, and then pulled me to safety.  What now that I’m standing securely on the shore, on my own two feet and don’t need saving anymore? He faces his own storms and raging seas, but won’t accept my help.  He’s the consummate soldier – willing to risk himself to save others, but won’t allow anyone to save him.  He’s searching for answers but doesn’t even know the questions.

So, what kind of friend does he need?  The kind that will never give up and smash through those walls of his no matter how thick they are or how long it takes?  Or the kind that lets him go and hopes he never forgets, and will someday return knowing that he’ll always be welcomed and loved just as he is – no matter what?

If I could grant him a birthday wish today it would be that he finds true happiness, love, and peace – in himself, perhaps in the arms of a beautiful woman – one that will touch his mind, body, and soul, and in the surpassing fulfillment of his dreams.  None of that is in my power to give him – but I’m hoping there’s some power in the birthday wish that will set him on the right path.

Happy birthday, my friend.  May all your dreams come true.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

The Beautiful, Wonderful Mess

Every morning, just as my dreams begin to fade and reality takes over, a choice presents itself – a choice on how I’m going to face the day.  Regardless of the dream, whether it was good, bad, erotic, scary, hurtful, funny… no matter – I have a choice of how I’m going to set my pace for the day.

So many mornings over the past couple of years have been met with trembling hands, lumps in my throat, tears running down my cheeks, fear of the unknown, pain of the past, yet mixed with hope for a better day, for a better tomorrow, for love, for joy, for happiness.  Some days are met with those good moments, other days I face more trials and more heartache.  Every day I face me and the woman I was, the woman I choose to be, the woman I want to become.

I wish I could make everything perfect.  I wish I could always make the right choice. I wish I could always find happiness, always pick the right circumstances, and always find the right person.  I’m human and I make mistakes.  I get things wrong… a lot.  Sometimes …sometimes I get it right.

The world is in chaos, yet we’re expected to continue to keep on living, to continue hoping, to survive the pain.  Do you see me?  Do you not know I’m part of this world too?  For those who come into my life, I see you.  I look beyond your body, your words, your masks, and I see you - the beautiful, wonderful mess that you are, because in you - I see me.  I smile at your imperfections and hope you can do the same.

Quit expecting me to be perfect, to have all the answers, to lead you where you need to go.  I will disappoint you and let you down.  Don’t put that burden on me, I can’t carry it, I’m not strong enough.  Just love me as I am, and I’ll do my best to love you just as you are, and maybe together as we struggle to carry ourselves through this life and we won’t have to walk alone.

But if you can’t do that – let me go.

Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

The New Bachelorette: Dating After 40 - Opposites Attract

Wow, this journey into twenty-first century dating over 40 is really opening my eyes to a lot of things I wish I’ve never seen, but then again, every experience enriches my life in some way, whether I like it or not.

I’m really learning a lot about myself and the things I like, want, don’t like, and definitely don’t want in my life.  Some of these things really shock me and other things I could have seen coming a mile away. So, today I hope I will have some of you shake your head, while others will have your eyeballs widen in disbelief.

Sometimes in this dating game, well almost all of the time, I’m clueless.  I know how to be married, how to be committed, how to be selfless, and how to put the needs and wants of others before me.  That’s how I’ve lived my whole life.  Being single is the total opposite of all that, so I’m often clueless, miss hints, don’t understand many of the terms used in today’s dating realm, and signals ... it’s like I’m still using smoke while the rest of the world has moved onto 1’s and 0’s.  I hope I can find a balance.

You’ve heard the old adage, ‘Opposites Attract’?  My first instinct is to say, “bullshit” but I’m finding that there are certain opposites I find attractive.  Case in point – all the guys I really want to date are guys who’ve been dating, serially, for years -  not guys who’ve been in committed relationships.  While I eventually want a commitment, I’m not in a hurry.  I’ve just come out of a huge commitment.  I’m not looking to get hitched again. I’m not looking for a husband.  I want a partner.  I want someone to go on adventures, experience life, explore the world with me… as-I’m-doing-it. I’m not looking for someone to complete me, but compliment me, and to whom I can be a compliment. I don’t want middle-class, raising a family, pursuing a demanding career kind of life.  I’ve been there, done that, and the tee-shirt is worn out.  It has fond memories, but the time has come to put it away.

I do everything bass ackwards.  When I was young, beautiful, and energetic, that was the time to explore the world and take on wild adventures.  Instead I took care of a family, and then raised one of my own, chased an education and a career, and have since walked away from it all.  Most of the guys my age are in the former state, while I’m in the latter.  In this instance, the opposite wouldn’t attract.

I think it’s quite pathetic when 50 year-old men are JUST NOW wanting to start a family so they try to find themselves a young 20 or 30-something year-old child to marry.  But what other choice do they have? 40 and 50 year-old women are past child bearing age.  I’m pretty sure I’m going to get some stiff feedback for this statement… but I think it’s ridiculous and quite unfair to the women, both the younger and older.

I can hear the older men say (because I’ve already heard them say it), “It’s fair because I can provide a luxurious lifestyle and a comfortable living for the young woman because I’m financially secure.  I can offer her experience in love-making (yeah, you pervert –it’s because you want that young, fit body instead of appreciating the beauty of an older woman’s body), life, and save her a bunch of trouble.”  Give me a f’ing break.  I’m sure there are young women, mostly damaged women with daddy issues (*raises hand in the air), who find it appealing for an older man to take care of her basic needs and be able to teach her about life because God-forbid she actually experiences and learns anything for herself (I hope you caught the sarcasm).  Isn’t the point of life to get out there and learn about it as you go? What happened to the older women who stood beside these older men as they were making their way in this world?  Most likely she gets tossed aside for the younger, child-bearing, unexperienced girl?  Fuck that.

Needless to say, those are often the first thoughts that run through my mind (I admit – I could be wrong) when I get hit on (because I look younger than my 43 years) by 50-60 year-old men when they tell me they’re looking for a wife and want to start a family.  I’m getting ready for grandchildren (kids – if you’re reading this…hopefully not for a few more years).  In these older men’s faces I can also see the future of the younger men (25-35) who also hit on me.  Those young men express how at this time they either don’t want a family, or is something they’d want to pursue at a later time  - when they get in their late 40’s or 50’s,  and are now just looking for that adventure partner – like me, that older woman they can have fun with – but don’t have to commit. While the thought of being a Cougar is quite appealing (what woman in her right mind wouldn’t fantasize about a hot, fit, sexy young man with lots and lots of stamina while she’s going through the hormonal changes of menopause and her libido is through the roof…what was I talking about, again?  Oh, yeah… partners), it’s just a heart-break waiting to happen.  When he does grow up and finally want that family, the cougar isn’t a viable option. While men can often sow their seed until the day they die, women have to compartmentalize that part of their lives because they are on a biological clock.

Just because we women in our 40’s are older, it doesn’t mean we can’t fall in love, or don’t want to fall in love, and be loved just like we did when we were 16.  I think men, both young and old,  forget that. Just because we’re more refined, smarter, experienced, know how to compose ourselves, independent, and classy, it doesn’t mean we’re not also spontaneous, crazy, wild, freaky, and still have that young romantic girl inside us.   In a way, we’re all cougars – because I’m always looking for that playful, horny, sexy, crazy young man inside every mature man I meet.

 So, do opposites attract?  Of course they do.  There’s something inside all of us that wants what’s different.  But, sometimes it’s not prudent when the opposites are just a little too far apart.  That’s why I think it’s important to know what you want, to know what works best with you, what traits about your partner will enrich your life.  Love – real love – can override any rule, even those of age, race, social status, culture, etc.  But, you should always be honest when it comes to those opposites to know which ones will work for you.

Here’s six traits and qualities about myself and what I want.  I’d want someone that could work with these particular things, because in the end – balance is the key.

· Age – 33-53 (I’m not interested in being a Sugar Mama or a Nurse Maid), but I can work within this age range.  It’s ten below and ten above, anything more is just asking for unmerited difficulty, sacrifice, and heartbreak.  Balance is key… remember?

· Race/Relations – I’m open to all races.  I find beauty in all shades.  The only color I’m concerned with is the color of the heart. I’m not a racist, but I’m extremely prejudiced.  I don’t like racists and will never be with one, I don’t care what our ancestors have done in the past – I’ve got relatives on both sides of every issue. I wasn’t there, it wasn’t me, and if everyone looked hard enough we can all find tragic and horrible stories in each of our family histories.  Holding onto the hate of past wrongs only produces more hate, and we all know two wrongs don’t make things right.  I don’t like bigots and could never be in a relationship with someone who carries around so much hatred and resentment toward other human beings.  I also don’t like hippy/pacifists who don’t live in the real world – one filled with evil people and evil acts and sometime harsh decisions need to be made to stop them.  Free love flowers don’t mean shit when  you’re trying to protect those you love.  I don’t like thugs, enablers, punks, perverts, pedophiles, players, cheaters, liars and thieves. No one is perfect, but some of us are really, really, really fucked up.

· Wealth – I’m independent and don’t need the support of anyone else.  I’m not rich, but I’m not desperate.  However, if you can’t manage your money and are in debt up to your eyeballs, or you’re extremely wealthy and used to buying everything, including the people in your life – it’s not going to work with me.  I won’t enable you and your bad habits, nor will I become your possession.   I’m looking for love, connection, a relationship – not to be taken care of or to take care of someone else.  I’ve had money, and I’ve been dirt poor.  Money is important, but I’m a very simple girl and that’s not just a phrase.  I’m the least materialistic person I know. I hate shopping, I like costume jewelry, I’m most comfortable in cargo pants, tee-shirts and hiking boots, I only buy what I need, and would rather spend my money on filling my life with adventures and good food, and not stuff.  I don’t need a big house, a fancy car, or diamonds and pearls. I don’t give a shit about social status and I’m not going to run away and join a commune and live off the earth.  I won’t stand in political rallies or religious gatherings.

· Health – I work hard to be fit, healthy and energetic.  There’s a lot of things I want to do in this world and they require me to be healthy and strong.  I’m not going to want to do these things alone.  While my partner doesn’t have to have a six-pack or walk around with less than 5% body fat, they do have to be physically capable of participating in general activities.  I have nothing against disabilities and I’m not opposed to someone being a bit overweight… but I won’t be with someone that is detrimental to my healthy lifestyle or who is lazy or requires a pharmacy to get through the day.  It’s hard enough to encourage myself.  I’m hoping to find a partner who would inspire and encourage me even more in my quests, not someone who will tempt me or encourage me into an unhealthy lifestyle.  So, if they’re not into eating healthy gourmet food but have to have their Southern-fried meat and potatoes – you’ll go hungry.  If they’re not into regular exercise, or opposed to participating in outdoor activities and exploration– they wouldn’t be good for me. They don’t have to be maniacs and run in marathons, but they do need to be active.

· Sex – I definitely love a strong man, and I’m not talking about physical strength. I like a man of a strong mind, independent thoughts, confidence (that’s the sexiest trait in a man).  However, I want a man in physical shape so we can have great sex. He doesn’t have to be perfect (I’d really like it if he still had some work to do), but his health should be important.  I want a sensual, strong, and sexy man.  I plan to have lots and lots and lots of sex.  He’ll have to be able to physically and emotionally handle that. But sex can’t be the most important thing to him.  His health and happiness should be first. If he’s healthy and happy… the sex will follow.  Also… my heart follows my body… not the other way around.  I’m not interested in being a FWB, or in a casual, polyamorous, or  swinger relationship. I’ve tried to apply those concepts to myself and failed miserably, because it’s just not who I am. I don’t judge those lifestyles, I just happen to be a faithful, monogamous, heterosexual, one-man woman.

· Clever Mind/Sense of Humor – I can’t tolerate ignorance, bigotry, or hate.  I love independent thinking, individuality.  I don’t mind strong opinions, even if they differ from mine, as long as they’re genuine.  I don’t like mouth-pieces, people who only repeat what they’ve heard but have no clue what they’re talking about - repeating party lines, quoting scriptures out of context, or regurgitating talking points.  I hate hypocrites – people on a crusade to make others just like their ideals, yet they themselves don’t follow their own agenda.  I’m a woman of faith, but I’m not religious.  I’m educated and understand the basic elementals of business, politics, and government, but I’m not a mission to save or convert the world.  I just want to be happy. I want to smile. I want to laugh.  I really love a man who can make me giggle, especially with witty, pithy, and clever comments. The stronger original opinions he has, the more I’m impressed.

So, opposite or twin,  this bachelorette over 40 is hoping she’ll find that balanced partner out there someday.  In the meantime, I’m still taking wild adventures, seeking thrills through extreme activities, and making crazy moves on my own.  I’m happy and content with who I am and the life I now live.  It’s taken me a long time to get here, but it’s so worth it. I’ve made lots of mistakes, but I’ve also made lots of great memories and met some really great people.

Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

Feeling Sexy

I woke this morning and just felt good.  I’m not talking about sexual, I’m talking about feeling beautiful, attractive, and yes, dare I say it… sexy.

I had a smile on my face, replaying bits of a beautiful conversation I had the night before and threw back the covers.  When the cool air swept over my hot body, I looked down and admired the way the edge of my panties drew my attention to my hips.  My gaze followed the dips and curves and I was pleased.  I used to hate the way they looked, but I’ve been working really hard to get into shape and this morning I admired my handiwork.  Do I think they’re perfect? No.  I still have more work to do, but I’m very happy with the results so far.  An enlightening thought hit me in that moment.  I’m not getting into shape to please anyone else, especially some shallow man, but me… and damn if that didn’t make me smile.  It has me feeling sexy.

I threw on my workout clothes, tied my hair into a pony tail, and headed toward the living room to start my morning workout.  As I passed my vanity, I stopped and gazed at my body in the mirror.  I turned to get a good look at my backside in my running pants… and smiled even bigger. Once again, I felt sexy. Could I be a model?  Hell, no! Nor would I want to be, but I’m liking the way I’m toning.  I just turned 43-years old but my body is looking younger and younger every week.  I nearly bounced all the way to the living room.

During my yoga session, instead of clearing my mind as I stretched my body, I was checking myself out, looking at all my curves, my muscles, and even all the bruises left over from the move (I sincerely look like someone beat the living hell out of me). I still have flaws and areas I don’t know if I will ever be able to repair after years of neglect and abuse, but I admired my body this morning. I noticed how much my muscles are toning and in the right accessories how hot I looked.  Would I think the same if I were completely naked and able to see all my scars?  I doubt it – but then those scars are part of who I am, the very things that have given me most of my strength.

After my yoga session and having limbered up, I started my strength training (4 for the Core, sit-ups and squats using a kettlebell and hand weights).  As I felt the burn, I smiled knowing that my pain wasn’t for nothing, because it’s working.  I’m getting stronger (hopefully soon I’ll be able to start climbing). I moved to the treadmill, set the speed, and took off.  It wasn’t long before I had to start regulating my breathing (I really need to have my lungs checked out… I do have a problem with breathing) and I could feel the sweat starting to run down the side of my face, on the back of my neck, and in other various places.  I loved that feeling as my body moved in rhythm to the treadmill.  I closed my eyes for a few moments and thought about when I first made the decision nearly two years ago to get into shape and struggled to run at all and the excitement I felt when I completed my first 1/8th of a mile.  I’m still not a great runner, but I love how it gets my heart racing.

Now hot, sweaty and struggling to breathe, I jumped into a nice tepid shower to cool off.  When that cool water hit me, I felt goose-bumps pop up all over my body.  I showered quickly and then dressed even more quickly.  For some reason this morning my clothes just fit better.  I liked the way my boobs looked in my bra, how my shirt hung just right, how my pants fit and complimented my curves.  I’m not a skinny beanpole.  I don’t have legs that go on forever.  I don’t look like a plastic Barbie doll. I look like a hot-blooded sexy woman.

When a woman feels sexy, she becomes sexy no matter what society dictates as the standard for sexiness.  She walks sexy, she smiles sexy, and she emits a sexy energy that attracts attention.  She doesn’t need tight-fitting or revealing clothes, heavy make-up, or  expensive hairdo’s to make her sexy – she just needs to feel it about herself.

I’ve already received several compliments this morning on how great I look, when I look no different than I do every other day.  I’ve noticed the new glances and the increase in smiles. The only difference is how I feel about myself.  I’m not trying to attract attention, I’m just so damned happy with how I feel about me.  This has been a long journey and struggle.  I know I’ve mentioned in these blogs over the past couple of years of how I’m falling in love with “Me”.  Today, I’m crushing on the sexy woman I noticed this morning.  I’m so proud of her and all the hard work she’s done to get herself into her current shape.  That appraisal just fuels my efforts to continue this quest even more.

So, how are you feelin’ this morning, Sexy?

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

If Not Now, When?

It seems like most of my life I’ve spent a majority of my time “waiting”.  Especially when it comes to my dreams.  I allowed life, responsibility, duty, and compromise to get in the way.  For nearly twenty years I was “waiting on the Lord” to move in my life for things to happen, believing that He would open a path for me.   Before that, I waited on Karma.  Living in a dark, ugly world full of hate and lies, I chose to follow a higher standard of excellence, believing if I tried hard enough, worked hard enough, studied hard enough, I could change my stars.  My Pastor used to say, “You’re working way too hard for what God wants to give you.” Wanting to give me something and actually doing it are two different things.  Maybe… just maybe …He wanted me to fight for it, to take a chance, to leap into the unknown – to get it myself? Maybe.

Do you know what happened to and for my dreams in all that waiting?  NOTHING.  I spent all that time doing something else, hoping for that magical  opportunity to open and change my world.  All I’ve got to show for it is a long wait period of back-breaking sacrifices, and one disappointment after another as I watched my dreams slip through my fingers, one after another.  Not all of them, but most.  I’ve had a picture perfect life for the last two decades.  But, pictures don’t always present the whole truth.  It would really depend on your definition of what a perfect life consisted.  Is it what you achieved?  Is it what you’ve collected?  Is it what you possess?  Is it how you look, where you live, how much money you make, what church you attend, what titles you’ve received, what car you drive, what invitations you get, or how many Christmas cards you collect?

Now as I look back, I don’t understand how I believed in either of those concepts in the first place.  I knew better, yet I believed.  I had full faith that if I just obeyed, if I was good, if I diligently prayed, if I spent my time and talent helping others, then God – or even Karma – would swoop down and magically open all those great doors of opportunity. It’s what I was promised would happen.  I mean, after all, there were countless of testimony regularly voiced of how God did this and that for others, and how miraculously things just fell into place and dreams were realized, or how Karma (both good and bad) always paid her debts.  I prayed the same dream prayers over and over and over, yet never saw them manifest in ANY way, especially when it came to relationships.  Of all the hard work I did, I just couldn’t seem to get ahead.  Life (Karma) always seemed to come in and throw something in my path that kept me from really taking off.  Nothing changed.  I was still unwanted, unloved and undesired. I couldn’t be successful enough, pretty enough, or good enough to change anything.

Don’t get me wrong.  I had many successes.  I worked with a spirit of excellence and mastered just about everything I put my hands to do – the problem was – I was doing everything else for everyone else, except me – believing that would lead to my own dream fulfillment.  Then, when I took the chance on ME… all those who supported, encouraged, and bragged about all the things I did for them disappeared or remained silent in and for my pursuits.  I was supported as long as it didn’t interfere with all those ‘other’ things I did, as long as it didn’t cause an interruption or hardship or sacrifice on anyone else’s part – I was good to go.  But, the moment my dream, my wants, or my desires caused any form of inconvenience, if it was different, or became a sacrifice for someone else – that support disappeared, often replaced by resentment, opposition, and judgment. When I started being ‘me’, and not who I was expected to be, I suddenly became the rebellious one.  As long as I looked and acted like everyone else around me, I was loved.  But have an individual and differing thought … that love and support disappeared.

 I just wanted someone to believe in me, the same way I believed in them.  I struggled with believing  in myself.  People let me down.  But a funny thing happened… I quit waiting.  I quit believing that I could do anything good enough to make a difference with anything.  No, I no longer expected those doors to magically, supernaturally, or karmatically open on their own in response to my goodness, faithfulness or obedience.  I found those doors on my own and kicked those fuckers down. Did it cost me anything?  Yes, it cost me everything.

When is the time to chase my dreams or work on fulfilling my wants and desires?  NOW.  I still have faith – faith that I’m brave enough to chase what I want in and out of this life.  Have I found everything? No.  Has everything worked out exactly as I planned? No.  Have I found that happiness I desired for so long?  Some, but there’s more.  Am I loved, wanted and desired?  Not yet. But I’m living. I’m moving.  I’m doing.  I’m falling.  I’m getting back up. I’m missing the mark.  I’m hitting my target.  The point is … I’m living in the now. I’ve done more in the last two years for myself than the last forty-one combined.  It’s not all easy, a bed of roses, or happens perfectly. On the contrary, it’s often painful, I make mistakes, I get hurt, I fall down, and I spend a lot of time crying – but I’m moving, I’m doing, and I’m experiencing life – not letting it waste away waiting for some outside or unknown force to open a path for me. I live in the NOW.

My life is now one big verb, not an adjective.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

It's Like Riding a Bike and Other Unforgettable Responses

There’s just some things in life we never forget how to do, and like that old saying, “it’s as easy as remembering how to ride a bike.”  Well, I had the opportunity to put that theory to the test.  I rode a bike for the first time in nearly two decades, and you know what, it really is something I automatically remembered how to do.  It was like second nature. My feet knew when to peddle, and balancing on two narrow wheels  became natural as the bike became an extension of my body.

I’m not saying riding the bike didn’t come without its complications, because my muscles would protest that sentiment, loudly.  It didn’t take but the first half mile before I started feeling the strain.  By the close of mile two, they burned.  Granted, I wasn’t riding on level asphalt, but some pretty steep hills, yet able to push through and make it back home.  I think riding this bike is going to be great in my quest to stay healthy and fit.  I can’t wait to see the results.

How much do we control our responses?  Do we even control them at all?  I can recognize them if I pay attention, but usually that observation comes after the fact.  It’s not like I’m consciously thinking about how I’m going to respond to life’s situations.  I have some automatic responses I wish I could change.  But I’m finding it’s like pulling your hand out of a fire because it burns.  I’ve seriously been trying these past few years to have a different response to things that hurt me.  My ‘natural’ response is pull away, slam up a wall, turn around, and walk away, sometimes even run and hide.  Instead, as I felt the heat rush over me in the middle of the pain, I stood and faced it, holding onto all hope that it would make a difference.  It didn’t.   Only now I carry burn scars along with all the others.

I saw my family together last week as my ex showed up to help me and my kids move my stuff into my new apartment.  There were moments of playful banter, working together, and laughter between us - familiar like riding a bike; it felt normal and natural.  We moved with a rhythm and worked together to get a difficult job done.  The fantasy was good, but then it was followed by a moment of reality … a moment that hit so hard it took me four days to even acknowledge it existed because my automatic response was to slam down my feelings and escape into work to keep my mind so busy it couldn’t face it.

That moment?  After lugging several heavy boxes, furniture, and equipment up two flights of stairs in the middle of a Georgia July, I was exhausted, hot, sweaty, and every muscle I had cried out in pain.  I just wanted to lie in the floor and let the air-conditioning cool me down.  Instead I had to help unload one more truckload of my son’s things at his dad’s.    I knew my ex, son, and daughter were also tired, you could see the exhaustion on everyone’s face.  There was an awkward moment where we all stood under the carport looking at each other, because this was the moment of truth. We weren’t a family any more.  Slowly, we all turned away from each other.  My son left to return to where he currently lived.  My daughter turned and walked back into her father’s house.  My ex turned and walked toward the path that led to the backyard to put our dog in the fence (well, I should say his dog now), and I got into my car to return to my apartment.

My automatic response was to feel bad and take the blame for breaking up my family.  After all, they’re still together – I’m the one that ran away.  They have their Thursday evening family dinner with Grandma and Grandpa, they see each other every day, involved in each other’s daily lives, which continue on as usual – just without me.  They didn’t fall apart, so I obviously wasn’t the glue that held everything together.

What was it in that moment that hurt so much it took four days to feel?  I didn’t matter.  I didn’t matter then and I don’t matter now that I’m gone – the family goes on without me or without missing a beat.  Like riding a bike, running away felt natural, something once you learn how to do you never forget no matter how long it’s been since you last did it.  And the response was usual  - without protest and unwanted – as have every relationship I’ve been in except with my children.  I’ve ran away from just about everyone in my life – parents, siblings, first fiancée, husband, friends, and careers and not once has anyone ever tried to stop me.  Not once has anyone fought for me. I will never stay where I’m not wanted.  I tried to stand in that heat for 20 years, all I got was burned. But today I remind myself – I didn’t break up my family – my ex gave up on me almost from the beginning.  It just took 20 years for me to give up and learn to love myself enough to care about me, what I need, what I want.  Just as my muscles hurt when I returned to riding a bike after 20 years, running away hurt too.  But, it won’t hurt forever.  Just as my muscles acclimate to its new workout, I too shall acclimate to my new life.  It’s like riding a bike and other unforgettable responses.

I still remember the mission and reason for my escape.  Someday someone will love me enough, and I will matter enough, that they’ll stop me, hold me, and never let me go. Until then, I’ll endure the pain of heartache as others come and go in my life, but I’ll enjoy the breeze on my face and revel in the healthy results as I peddle into my new life.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

The Pick Up Line by T.L. Gray

The Pick Up Line by T.L. Gray

Moving On

Moving On

These last few weeks have been hell, literally back-breaking turmoil.  However, it’s all over and done.  I’m now moved into my new place, everything has been put away, hung, stored, discarded or utilized, so I can now focus on my life.  Moving became top priority and everything else, because I was misplaced, divided, and scattered, became second place.  I have tons of unread email, I haven’t read, written, or promoted anything, my dating life disappeared, I’ve enjoyed no outdoor activities, haven’t seen or really spoken to my friends, and simply the last three weeks have been one big blur.

As I drifted off to sleep last night, I finally faced some things that I’ve been able to put on the back burner through this move.  Hard things.  Painful realizations.  But, today is a new day, and this day marks a new phase in my life.  I’ve been through a lot of those these last couple of years, and quite frankly I’m tired of them. I’d like a little bit of normal, but I know that’s futile.  Normal has never related to me, so I’ve learned to roll with the punches.

I reminded myself why I’m even on this journey in the first place, why I disrupted what most people would say was a good, easy life.  It was picture perfect on the outside, the model of the American dream, but inside I was lost.  I took that leap of faith, disrupted the fantasy, and have been through some amazing changes – some good, some bad, but all forward.  I was starting to become lost again – forgetting my main mission (to live a life of adventure and be loved, wanted, and desired) and sacrificing my own needs to help fulfill others.  But not today.  Today is a new day of a new phase in my life, and today… today I choose me.

I woke up this morning , after spending a night in tears saying goodbye to those things that have been holding me back, things I didn’t want to face, with a smile on my face and renewed determination in my heart.  It’s time I got back to me.  During my workout this morning (which I’m so glad to have all my equipment available) I felt the release with every drop of sweat, every burn of muscle, every measured breath.  I said ‘goodbye’ and ‘hello’ at the same time.

So, this is the start of a new year for me, having just turned 43 a few days ago, a new phase, a new beginning. I’m moving on. I’m leaping into the air.  Watch me fly away!

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray