Time for a change...

I cut my hair off yesterday, about five inches or so... drastic, dramatic and much needed.  The act of changing some physical aspect of yourself with one swift action, with no real premeditation, with no concern for what anyone will think... liberating. 

Three years ago, I went to Vegas for my 40th birthday and I went alone.  I had offers for parties and what not and a couple of good friends offered to go with me, but, in the end, I told Tim what I wanted.  I wanted to wake up when I wanted to, I wanted to sit at the Blackjack table when I wanted to, I wanted to eat when I wanted to and for one weekend I didn't want to have to answer to anyone or to have to organize anything.  I wanted to lay by the pool, get a massage, read my book and I wanted to sit by myself.  And so I did and it was one of the best experiences I have ever had on vacation or, for that matter, on one of my birthdays.  My flight home left around 7 pm and I was spending the afternoon walking through the mall, shopping, just biding my time when I decided, impetuously, impulsively, to get a tattoo.  I had considered it for awhile, but the longer I thought about it, the more reasons and excuses I would come up with for why I shouldn't, why I couldn't, why I really didn't NEED to...

Being impulsive has its benefits.  Spontaneity abounds when impulsivity is present.  Some of the best sex that Tim and I have ever had is the kind where there is no premeditation and that has been difficult raising three children who seem ever present in the house.  I have always touted myself as a "fly by the seat of my pants" kind of girl.  So I suddenly found myself in a tattoo parlor, perusing, gasping as some of the clients who were lying prone on tables showed me their new "art."  The girl in front of me was having two lines from a Shakespearean sonnet tattooed along her hairline from ear to ear.  I was both impressed and in pain from watching the needle strike her neck.  I was so engaged in what I was watching that I didn't hear the man behind the counter ask me if he could help me.  I looked up.  I know I was 40 and he was probably 25, but he was what I would have called, "smoking hot."  I know that has no real relevance to the story, but it made the thought of him permanently marking my body with ink all the more appealing.  I regained my composure and once I started talking, I realized hottie was just like anybody else, just doing his job.  We talked about what I was "into" and what part of my body I'd like to have done (pause here for effect).  I'm kidding.  I decided on a Kanji symbol and there were many that I liked.  He touched the computer screen in front of the counter and turned it toward me.  We chatted about the meanings and putting more than one symbol together and finally I decided on the one that means Strength.  I liked the double meaning, strength, both internal and external.   Easy enough.

My back has always been my favorite body part.  I am built just like my Dad and I am a physically strong person, but even back when I was a teenager, I liked my back.  That's where I wanted the tattoo.  Just below my neck, at the top, maybe even so I could add something else later.  I told hottie tattoo guy, he said great and led me over to the chair.  I sat down facing away from him and I swear, in the space of a minute or two, the top of my sweater was pulled down, covered and he was sketching on my skin...

It's a small tattoo, about the size of a silver dollar, in black of course and I LOVE it.  It summed up everything that was fantastic about my 40th year and every time I see it in the mirror, I think independence, freedom, power, love - it leads me to all kinds of stories that were told within the scope of that year.  I ran my first marathon that year, I turned 40, I lost 25 pounds; there were many things about the whole experience of beginning a new decade that were and are wrapped up in that little black symbol...

So cutting my hair, really, I've had short hair before, but the symbolism of it is the same as that of the tattoo - a new direction while not caring about anything other than who I am and what I want.  I've given this notion quite a bit of thought over the years, especially being the kind of person who can often come across as indifferent or arrogant or however people have seen me in certain situations.  The thing is, change, physical or otherwise just speaks to that part of my personality that lets other people know that I don't care what anyone else thinks; I mean that.  I don't care.  I don't care if people like me, I don't care if they hate my clothes.  I don't care if they think I'm a shitty parent or a bad wife.  I don't care because unless my actions or my behavior affect someone else's life, or their children or their marriage, then they have no right to comment on who I am or what I choose to do.  And I was very tired of people trying to do that.  I realized, some time ago that it's okay to not like someone and to not want to be their friend, doesn't mean that I have to be cruel or talk about them behind their back.  Nope, just no thank you and off I go.  And I'm raising my children to be the same way.  I believe that self confidence comes from the simple idea that "one shouldn't give a fuck what anyone else thinks."  Of course I care about my family and friends and their opinions matter, but they love me unconditionally, they accept my weaknesses and my flaws and I choose carefully who I allow into my "inner" sanctum.  So, I expect that their opinions and comments will often not jive with my own and that's okay because I care about them and who they are in my life.  Everyone else can jump ship. 

I don't believe in placating or pacifying people just for the sake of being the "nice" guy and I also don't believe in doing something for the sake of doing it.  I don't go to parties if I don't like the person who invited me and I don't shop at stores where I don't like the products being sold.  That seems fairly logical to me.  Ty gets a lot of boo-boos.  He is 5 and an active boy... enough said.  One of the important lessons that I've learned as a mother, from watching other mothers do the exact opposite of what I do, is that when Ty cries, even if he isn't physically hurt, let's just say he cries because he is sad that someone won't play with him or share a toy or because he got punished, whatever the reason,
it's okay to let him cry.  I will hold him and I will kiss his face or whisper soothing words, but I just let him cry.  For the LIFE of me, I cannot understand how parents can get mad at kids when they yell, "Stop crying!  Stop being a baby!" or even if they just say, "Don't cry, come on, stop crying, it's okay."  I don't get that.  Just let them cry; teach them that it's okay to cry, it's okay to let it out.  It's okay to hurt, to feel bad, to be sad.  Otherwise, don't they just end up keeping it in?  So I hold Ty and I let him work it out for himself.  That is what my family and friends do that acquaintances don't - they let me be who I am, haircuts, tattoos, chubby, thinner, marathons, no marathons... whatever.

Sometimes being dramatic just means making a change.  That change could be small, could be huge or it could simply be looking at something and saying, that's the way I see it, end of story.

You cannot care what other people think because if you do, you will spend your life trying to please them and that never works out.  As a teacher, I don't do anything to jeopardize my job and as a mother, I don't do anything to harm my children, but if I believe in something and I want to do it... I'm doing it.  I hope my children take that lesson to heart; I hope they leave our home one day and approach the world as a buffet and that they purposefully stay away from the foods that will ultimately give them diarrhea.  Instead, I hope they feast on those that flourish and are lovely and giving, those that will help them to thrive instead of poisoning them and I hope they will have learned enough to know the difference between the two...

It was time for a change... another change.  Remember, it doesn't matter what you look like or what you wear - it really is who you are, how you carry yourself, standing by your beliefs... self confidence matters, patience matters, kindness and loyalty, honesty and experience matter.  Everything else... that's negotiable. 

Working it Out...

Ah, what can be read into that title; I suppose that is why I chose it.   Last week I went to Zumba class for the third time.  There is an ongoing class on Tuesday nights at Alta Vista park that a friend introduced us to and which I've been able to attend three times now.  When the class was over last week, I took a few extra minutes, drove down to the beach, got out, sat on one of the walls alongside the Esplanade and considered the day, the class, all of it.

When our ParT2 to Coronado team finished the Ragnar Relay in April, I swore to myself that I would "keep it going;" that I would keep running and look for the next race, enjoying what I had done in LA and at the Ragnar, but alas, I did not and after Zumba last week, I thought about why I hadn't.  The ironic thing is that I LOVE to exercise.  It might not always look like that on my face, but the tougher the workout, the better I respond.  I especially step up to endurance activities that require me to be as mentally fit as physically fit.  Running had never been my favorite activity, but in the past couple of years, it has steadily become one of the staples in my "active" life.  I suppose I could chalk it up to the daily day to day of my life, the time crunches, the kids, insert other excuses here.  Steadily I stopped running, stopped going to yoga and stopped working out at the gym.  And then, vacation came, for three weeks I did nothing but camp, eat, drink and have fun.  When it came time to do something, I knew that I needed some help.  Enter Matt, one of the trainers at Elite Fitness. 

I believe that just because you want something badly enough, that is not enough to make it happen.  Maybe you believe that too.  The desire to get it drives you, but you have to have a plan.  Jerry and Rachel have taught me that.  You have to have a concrete goal and a real plan and you have to accept that there are going to be bumps along the way, obstacles to keep you from getting to the end of the road.  And, that at some point, you have to ask yourself if this is something that you really want or if you are simply just giving it lip service.  Either way, if the feeling persists and there is a nagging feeling that something is out of sorts, then you can only ignore it for so long.

Tim and I are having problems.  We've been together for 22 years now, married for 19 and although people tell me that it's normal, it's bound to happen with two people who have been together for a long time, I am still struggling with it and I know that he is too.  Maybe this too is ironic as marriage is certainly an endurance activity... I guess I think of it in terms of how much I get out of doing something that is good for me and that makes me feel good and for awhile now, that something has not included Tim.  The same things plague our marriage that plague my health/fitness goals:  time issues, laziness, selfishness, narcissism, exhaustion and the list goes on.  So, in order to conquer some of these issues that are driving a wedge between us, we probably need an objective third party.  Just like Matt, my trainer was; someone who will look me in the face and say, "HEY! Don't eat that!" or, in the case of our marriage, "HEY! Stop being such a bitch."  Well, the therapist probably won't say that, but he/she will certainly think that sometimes. 

There is a continuity in exercise that bends the will, in an activity so challenging that you cannot focus on anything else while you are in the throes of doing it.  Marriage should be the same.  Sure, there are distractions; people open a door, someone coughs, a weight gets dropped, a car honks, kids scream, the phone rings, bills arrive in the mail, family members become ill, jobs are lost...  at the end though, when you stretch it out, when you say goodnight, isn't what we feel then a kind of relief?  A kind of releasing of good feelings, both physical and mental?  If exercise releases endorphins, so too does having a real bond with the person who is closest to you.  I talk about marriage now because I am married, but I see this issue between friends, lovers, parents and their children, really anyone who loves someone else and who is as concerned about their well being as their own.

I want to keep moving forward; I want to be better, stronger, happier and I want Tim to be there with me.  At some point, we all have to acknowledge that we are who we are because of the people in our lives and even with all of the things that bother me about myself, I recognize that the person I am, the goodness that I feel and the woman that I have become, in large part is due to his commitment to me - to his desire to help me be whoever I was going to become when we first got together.  He accepted that and he has helped me to do that.  Don't get me wrong, he is a major pain in the ass too, but that part of a marriage, that kind of thinking comes with the territory...

Matt has helped me to get back on track.  He is a fun, motivated and cruel (not really) trainer and he will be there, or Jerry, or Rachel, or Kelsey, when and if I need to go back. Well, I do need to go back, but I am going to try to move forward on my own here.  I'm learning, even though I knew this, that the journey is made up of MANY helping hands and that crossing the finish line only means that there is another one, not too far beyond it.  And, that no one gets there alone.

Marriage is a marathon, maybe an Ultra marathon and we're at Mile 18.  We just need to get past the wall...