Friday, November 14, 2003
This morning I went to see Erin, my "psycologist" at the counseling center here. I came into her office crying...
Dave was telling me this morning how he was gunna punish his supervisor or whatever he is by not telling him til the last minute that he wasn't coming in to work next Saturday. I thought that was such an immature sentiment, and told Dave he should take the high road, but he explained that it would force the guy to cover a slot, which he's never lived up to. I still didn't agree, and as anyone might, Dave said, "whatever, bye." and hung up. I felt like he shut down my opinion and made me feel belittled.
I started to tell her about my relationship with Dave, how we thought we were soulmates, how we had not-so-whimsical plans about getting married, etc. Then I confessed to her that a while back, over the summer I think it was, I told Dave that I didn't want to consider ourselves engaged. Situations like these are the very reason. He doesn't have the same beliefs about how to treat other people that I do. Honestly, right now I think the most important thing to Dave is getting his life in order physically and financially. He has made tremendous efforts to lose weight and gain muscle, but when the going is slow, or when he has a bad day, or if he's having a bad self image, he becomes miserable and inconsolable. This is pretty frustrating, but everyone has bad days... a few times a week... right? Anyway, I'm a pretty big on the fact that the person you become is dictated by the choices you make. And I feel decisions like these shape who Dave is becoming, and I don't always like it, moreover, I'm afraid of it. I felt disrespected this morning, much like the way my mom feels when my dad tries to exert his "superiority" over her. Dave and I are going through a weird time in our relationship right now, especially in terms of where we're both headed in our lives. He claims that he gave up his dream of becoming a marshall for me, but I wonder if he'd have done it if we never got together. If we never got together... I think about that sometimes. I told Erin, sometimes I feel that I'm missing out on a lot in terms of the dating game now that I'm in this relationship. There is no going out with one guy to the movies one night, and going ice skating with another the next, like there was in high school. Do I feel resentment about this? No, not really. But what if it gets to the point in which I decide I can't marry Dave based on the person he's become? People can change, and do. Sometimes drastic and sometimes not. That's what a lot of people have confused about marriage in the first place. No, you can't guarantee a couple will be perfectly happy for the rest of their lives because they do change and grow. But, that doesn't mean that the changing and growing has to be apart. In fact, a good marriage is one in which struggles and issues are confronted together, problems are debated, dicussed, and talked out, interests are shared and enjoyed, and love is constantly present. Are Dave and I up for a lifetime of that?
Erin and I talked about my feelings of inadequacy today, primarily physically and socially. I am very confident in my intellect, spirituality, relationship with my family, and ability and willingness to help others. I deduced that my social apprehension stems from the physical insecurity. Well great, we have it narrowed down to one thing, I thought. As I brought up different elements of my life in which my inadequacy most came into play, Erin told me that one of my great strengths was my propensity for observation. Another thing we talked about was the way I react to the way people look. I am a hypocrite in that I believe physical appearance says nothing about a person, but at the same time, the first way I judge a person is by the way they look. And honestly, I don't think that can be helped- the first thing you know about a person you meet is what they look like. Perhaps, then, what I mean by my belief that physical appearance means nothing is that once you get to know people in depth, you realize that there is no pattern by which people who look a certain way must necessarily be a certain way. It really felt freeing to admit some of the prejudices I have. For example, if I were to walk into a room and I had the choice to sit next to a beautiful girl that looked like a model or next to a homely looking girl, I would most definitely choose the latter. I explained to Erin: in my mind, I would identify physically with the homely girl and think that she's probably been through the same sorts of things that I've been trhough, ie, lacking confidence in herself, feeling like a black sheep in our society that overemphasizes physical beauty, perhaps even knowing what it's like to be ridiculed, like I once was. If I were to sit next to the model, my imagination would create a dialogue. She would feel disgusted or repulsed by someone who was not physically attractive, and would judge me as unworthy of her time. In response to that, I would think to myself, well I have brains, and will be making six-figures some day. Where's she gunna get with just her looks and shallow, flimsy personality? I was a bit embarrased to admit this to Erin, and even to this blog, but it's a healthy kind of embarrasment. The kind that keeps me in check from thinking too highly of myself.
Humble and abject,
Elizabeth posted this at 10:20 AM.
Monday, November 10, 2003
Saturday I took the train to Absecon where Lynsay picked me up and drove me to Stockton College. I met her stoner friend Larry who was playing PS2 on a tv on top of another, on which he was watching Cartoon Network. He had messy longish brown hair and the oldest looking tshirt and jeans I had ever seen. He just eminated coolness. He drove Lynsay's car because his was home due to a DUI. We arrived at this wildlife reservation area that you could drive through at 15mph. The way he would take out his mini telescope thing, meticulously focus it on a bird, and scribble down its genus and species in his tattered leatherbound notebook showed me that drama and complication is not the way to derive pleasure out of life. By enjoying something as simple as two mallards plunging under water for food, Lynsay, Larry, and I shared an experience so profound and so deep that we instantaneously connected as friends in a much deeper capacity.
Lynsay is one person in my life that knows me better than I do. She can sense exactly what's going through my head when I'm too confused to realize it. She extracts a sense of adventure and aliveness whenever we hang out. It's funny, we've only been best friends since fourth grade after we got into a pretty intense fight in art class. However, I feel like we've known each other since our souls were first created. Her excitement and newness is staggering to me, the star of her essence has just exploded into a fiery existence, while mine burns with the constancy of generations of experience. In high school, I used to fancy myself as a patient parent awaiting the return of an exploring child. Though I knew the right path, I had to let her find it for herself. When I got to college, my attitude of our friendship changed dramatically. She had broken down the walls of hesitation and reservation, allowing me to fully become my potential. I took on the challenges and experiences she had already seen, ones that I had deemed unsuitable for me. Knowing she had been through it gave me courage to do it. I owe her the gratitude of discovering myself. I love her and hope we stay best friends for the remainder of our temporal lives, and that our souls may unite in eternity.
Elizabeth posted this at 1:52 PM.