When was I 21?

Some years ago
I can't remember the last time I allowed myself to want something. Want is an emotion reserved for people who deserve to be happy. 

I have spent the last 4 months stuck in a self-doubting coma, anticipating loss. 

Why am I not enough? Why am I not worth it? Is there someone else? What does she have that I don't have? 

So I'm 21. I'm 21 and I have spent the last 10 years telling myself that I will not have a future. I could never picture myself living past 25 years old. Everyday is a struggle, a new battle, and I could not imagine myself winning the war. Everyday is a new emotion and I thought that I was stronger. But I'm not and it is harder each time I fall down to get back up. And I felt like I would never overcome it. But I'm only 21, and I've worked hard up until now to get to this place. Wherever this place is. I will not let myself ruin it. I am not who I was 5 years ago. I'm not who I was a year ago, and I won't be the same person in another year because people grow. People love, people make mistakes, people hurt and get hurt. There's sadness and anger and love and happiness. And people learn somewhere in all of that.

AND SO I'M 21! I need to be able to tell myself that I deserve to be happy. And I need to learn to take care of myself so that I am in a better place to take care of others.  And I need to realize that I still have a lot of growing up to do.

Lost Kitten

Dissociate yourself from ego, it has no business in love. 
                                                           - Yoga master Colin. 
Who are you and what are you doing here? Let's forget about the existentialism of it all and work through the literal.

Who am I?
Lisa

What am I doing here?
This is my house.

A week from now will mark 5 months of a no-Ryan life. The good news is I can finally think about him without a debilitating sadness washing through each of my muscles one by one. The bad news? I've replaced the emotion with one I am not entirely certain is any less self-destructive.

6 weeks ago I attempted to "get back out there". This wasn't because the options already available to me weren't good enough, but because I had spent the last 15 years stuck in the mindset that I wasn't enough, and one person's opinion just didn't provide the substantiation I needed.  So, I registered on a dating website. Almost immediately my inbox was flooded with messages from eager singles wanting to get to know me. While I'll admit this stroked the ego that, for as long as I can remember, craved the attention from eligible bachelors- it was probably unfair to put myself out there when I wasn't ready to reap the results.

I'm alone still.

But for the first time in my 22 years of breathing, I think I am okay with that. Everything I've ever done in my life;  every thought, every action, every decision I've made have all been rooted in my desire to please others and my crippling need to be loved by men. Because what did I have growing up? A physically absent and emotionally unavailable father whose impatience was rivalled only by his inability to look past appearances. Two brothers and a sister who, because of an age difference left me behind at every turn. A mother who worked herself to the bone to give my brother and me the childhood we deserved, but in doing so forgot what it was like to be a kid. And an entire school full of children, each dedicating their lives to making sure my days were filled with rejection, humiliation, and physical abuse. 

This is how I spent my days. This is how I grew up; desperately trying to become the girl I thought people would like better and losing every part of the girl I was meant to be in the process. I had become so unrecognizable to myself; like a liquid with no definitive shape of her own. I had strayed so far from the strong and confident girl I knew I WANTED to be, that I let some self-absorbed, emotionally vapid, insensitive loser walk all over me and at the end of the day make ME out to be the bad guy. 

Excuse me? When did I become a housewife? When did I become the sort of person who baked cookies, did laundry, rubbed feet, went grocery shopping, cooked dinner, wrote papers, made handmade gifts, smiled and nodded and let him be right, and got him off; sometimes without so much as a thank-you? When did I become the sort of person who tolerated an inattentive asshole who'd rather play video games than look at his naked girlfriend? And who deemed foreplay a "waste of his time"? And who after ALL of that, turned around and cheated on her with some blonde brazilian bimbo who didn't even speak English? Where in this relationship was Lisa and why was she so convinced that she was happy? Why was she convinced that her life was over after he left, and how come she was blaming herself when he turned around and cheated? Was I really designed this way?

So, after 3 months of wallowing in a whole lot of self-pity and even more self-doubt I got up, dusted myself off, and told myself that I was awesome. I may have not had any idea who that person was, and I may not have been entirely convinced that I was, indeed, awesome, but I knew that hidden beneath the insecurity and fear there was a substantial amount of good intention. That there was a smart, brave, thoughtful girl with the ability to smile and persevere. And so that's what I did. I persevered. I took up drawing, I started running again, I sang and wrote songs, I got a kitten, I started a new job and I worked hard to make a good first impression. I spoke my mind. I started going to yoga. I took up climbing and I realized with the right amount of determination anything is possible. Good things come to those who wait. The meek little girl melted away and found the confidence to do what she wanted even if it meant having to do it alone. And that same meek little girl found it in her to move on and put herself out there again. And, well, while I may be moving towards a dead end--at least it doesn't consume my whole world. And at least I'm out there.

So, here is what I know. 
I know I am incredibly resilient. 
I know I am funny, energetic, caring, considerate and smart. 
I know I am good at a lot of things. 
I know that what Ryan did does not reflect my ability to love and care for somebody. 
I know that time heals all wounds. 
And I know that I'm not perfect, but that I don't need to be. All I can do is be perfectly me.