Saturday I went to dinner with UD. A very beautiful young man with whom I have a great respect for. He’s funny and a little geeky, reads science books and romance fiction and is also a computer programmer. He is very athletically inclined and despite having gorgeous eyes and wavy dark hair – I found myself mostly enamored of his smile which has a charming hitch. He is younger than i. Four years younger, in fact.
We talked for some hours after which we said pleasant good byes and I left to join Rach (my flat mate) as she was getting ready for her date. I had to help fix her up.
Then I promptly cried for another two hours.
I don’t get it and I couldn't shake it. This overwhelming sense of isolation fell over me like an Alaskan winter and I sobbed. Logically, I know I can break at least half of it down by pure exhaustion, being physically tired and over worked/ over-stressed. But the remainder I figure is this…
I am worried that I have broken something in me that cannot be fixed. I cried because I thought all afternoon, that once I made the decision to get back into the dating game, to consciously chose to open myself to a new partnership – that I would feel… I dunno… sexy, smart and energetic. I thought I would feel adventurous and excited and I would be attracted to men who would see me. Actually SEE me. I thought I would laugh more and be buoyant and carefree and youthful. I thought I would get this electrical thunderstorm of possibilities in my belly and flutters in my chest and I would wake up ready to explore the realm of the opposite sex again!
But I don’t feel that. Any of it.
I feel lost and overwhelmed and - - invisible, or perhaps the better word is hollow.
When I was consciously abstaining from the dating scene for two years, I grew accustomed to the freedom of being independent of anyone else’s energies. I grew comfortable with my body, my sense of adventure and all the things I felt defined me.
It’s almost like, having made the choice to engage; those definitions are being challenged in my own mind.
No one else is challenging them – I AM.
And I am unsure for the first time in two years if they will hold up under the pressure. So I don’t feel sexy, or smart of energetic. I don’t feel adventurous or excited or independent. I am suddenly, uncomfortably aware of… weaknesses in my resolve that I don’t like, and logically, if those weaknesses are present and I don’t actively work on fixing them – when I finally DO enter into a semi-serious relationship, those points under stress will crack, and I will cave in.
That’s not okay.
So I guess what I’m saying is. I am not ready still. And although my past feels clean and ready to be let go of – I have not yet grown into my new healthy skin. I have not yet fleshed out my newly purged self into a vibrant creature. I have not yet accepted all that I have wanted to be is FINALLY here… almost. I do not own it yet.
UD asked if we could get together again, and I said I’d like to. I also pushed it out a few weeks wherein I will have time to organize my life, the new apt, the new job and the body quest.
I need a little more time to acclimate to my new body, this new Anne. She is still somewhat of a mystery and when I have finally shrugged into my new skin and tightened up the loose parts of my fits – I will re-introduce myself to everyone.
I will walk up to my friends who have known me all my life and say, “Hi, I’m Anne.”
And they will know – that I have finally accepted all the parts, La Loba has sung her song, and I am ready for the next level.
Just a little further now. I’ve already come so far, just a little further.
EDITORS NOTE: Anne (not real name) is a guest blogger
EDITORS NOTE: Anne (not real name) is a guest blogger
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