Exactly What It's Supposed To Be

Last week I received a package at work. I knew what it was, I had been expecting it. It was my fiancée's wedding band. I looked at the package for what felt like an hour and finally opened it. There were no surprises, it was exactly what I had expected. From the metal, to the finish, to the inscription (a line from the vows I wrote for the ceremony) it was exactly what it was supposed to be. Packaged very nicely in a black velvet box – exactly how it was supposed to be. I looked at the ring, examined it, even tried it on my own hand and wondered if our marriage would be like that ring. Exactly what it's supposed to be. Then I had to wonder… What is it supposed to be??

Some of you know it's been a long time since I was married the first time. That was by design. I've had other offers in the past 13 years, one formal offer (twice, same person) and one informal offer, different person. I declined every time. When I was divorced 13 years ago, I really thought I wasn't cut out for marriage and at a mere twenty years old, I was right! I didn't know the first thing about being someone's wife and when my marriage ended after two years of HELL I was NOT about to try that role again! Life went on and I had two other long term relationships that ended for a number of reasons – but not before the subject of marriage had been broached. With both of those relationships, I knew there was not a chance that I could commit my life to either of those people. Not only would it have never worked – hence the inevitable demise of the relationship, but I was just too damn selfish. I didn't want to share my space, I didn't want to share my stuff, I DEFINITELY didn't want to share what little money I had and I didn't really want to share my daughter. Somehow… even though this relationship (on the romantic level) has only been in existence a fraction of the time of the last two – somehow, thankfully this is different.

Someone asked me the other day how long Lisa and I had been together and I had to think about it. I thought about it later and realized I had to think about it because it seems as though it's just always been. Lisa and I were good friends before we took our relationship to the next level and even since then, it just seems as though we have always been together. Everything just clicks. There is a flow about our relationship that just works. It's impossible to imagine my future without her, but even more strangely I can barely remember a past without her in it.

All of that aside, I still am not exactly sure what a marriage is supposed to look like, feel like and be like. I've never been in a successful one and with divorced parents, I didn't grow up looking at their relationship and wishing for a marriage just like theirs. I don't know very many people that I would consider really happily married, (beyond about 5 years) so there aren't many couples I feel like we could learn from. * PLEASE DO NOT EMAIL ME THAT YOU ARE HAPPILY MARRIED! I SAID I DON'T KNOW MANY – I DIDN'T SAY THAT I DIDN'T KNOW ANY!) That's when I took a deep breath (to ward off the panic that was setting in) and decided maybe THAT it what it's supposed to be. Trial and error… learning from our mistakes and loving each other through each one of them. Remembering that at the end of every day, even if we are angry, we still love each other more than anyone else ever has. Realizing that one of us has never been married and the other one shouldn't have been, so we're both learning something new.

I read a quote once that said, "True love does not come by finding the perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly." That like Lisa's ring… is exactly how it's supposed to be.

Learning How & Who To Love

I don't remember exactly how old I was when my grandmother first told me that you should never make someone a priority when they only consider you an option. I do remember that I furrowed my eyebrows and half smiled pretending like I understood only to be thinking in the back of my mind that she was crazy. As something called "Life" happened, I began to understand what she meant. Unfortunately, I didn't choose to actually act on the advice, but I did start to understand it. Just about three years ago, I decided that I would actually start acting on that principle and while in some instances it's been heartbreaking, I know now that the most important people in my life don't consider me an option.

It's a shame that it took me all of thirty years to figure out how and who to love, but it did. While I am one to believe you are always where you are supposed to be, that everything happens for a reason and I genuinely value even the most horrible of times over my adult life knowing that it only brought me closer to the person I was to become – I can't help but wish or at least wonder how things may have been different if someone had told me just the most basic truths about relationships. So this, my friends, is a small (very small) list of things I think are important in relationships. Relationships of all kinds… romantic, platonic, etc. Nothing profound - just my opinion. Just an open letter of sorts to my incredibly amazing daughter and anyone else who might need it. Hoping that someday she will be writing a blog about what she learned from me about relationships…. And I hope every word of it is positive.

Of course it begins… "Never make someone a priority if they only consider you an option."

Fall in love with your best friend and if you are falling in love with someone who is not yet your best friend, make sure you can envision them in that role. Be honest with yourself and be honest with the people you love. Tell the people you care about exactly what you expect – your relationships will be better for it. Be confident in your worth and expect the people you love to know your worth as well. Don't get involved with people you need to change – it won't happen and it shouldn't happen. You have to evolve on your own, and so do the people in your life. Know the difference between friends and acquaintances, both are important, but there is a difference. Treat your friends, family, partners, spouses and even strangers the way you want to be treated. You never know how or when you can change someone's day, week or even life in a positive or negative way. Spend your life with someone who will do little things that make a difference, even if that difference only means something to you. Be certain that the people in your life love you for who you are and for no other reason. Know that the only unconditional love is between parents and their children, understand your limitations as well as those of the people who love you. Love and be loved with all your soul can give and take.

And one more – because this blog has gone on way too long… Spend your life with someone who makes you laugh, even when you're dreaming.

Myth vs. Reality

So I officially "came out" via the world wide web. This still makes me chuckle a little bit because I suppose I didn't realize how many people that I don't see in "real life" didn't know I was gay! That being said, after the shock wore off most of my friends were very happy for me and very supportive. I did find out that LOTS of people don't really KNOW any lesbians – or not well enough to ask them very personal questions --- oh wait, if they didn't know I was gay, they probably don't know me well enough either…. Just kidding. So I decided I would occasionally write on the topic to close the gap between myth and reality.

My first theme… Girls Dating Girls.

So now we ALL know, I am a Lesbian. I live in the South, do not live in a "gay" neighborhood AND… I do not even remotely resemble your stereotypical lesbian. (Please don't pretend not to know the type, just because you judge by appearances doesn't necessarily mean you are homophobic.) I have had the question asked - MORE THAN ONCE – "So, which one of you is like, uh, the uh, guy?" I am here to tell you, we are both very much girls – and we both happen to like it that way. Now, anyone of you that has met my lovely Lisa can attest, that while we are both definitely women, she on most days is less feminine than I am. Not all couples have these "roles" but I would like to share with you the advantages to being of the more feminine variety and finding that your attractions lie with the opposite.

So here are my Top Ten Reasons I completely understand (and highly recommend) loving a woman of the less feminine variety.

10.) If you play your cards right and choose carefully, you can double your wardrobe. (At least where cargo shorts and t-shirts are concerned.)

9.) You will never have to cry over IKEA's horrific directions again!

8.) Mowing your own grass, a thing of the past.

7.) More counter space for your own hair care products.

6.) Being allowed to choose any and as many home décor items as you like and not having to argue over decorators' colors.

5.) Never again will you blow a fuse due to too many hair care appliances being plugged in at once.

4.) You will never look all over for your eyelash curler only to find it's in her purse.

3.) Never having to go to the bar for my own drinks.

2.) You will never receive a gift that was given in hopes that you will share. Example: bags, hats, shoes, perfume, etc.

And the number one reason I love a woman less feminine than myself….

1.) I get all kinds of ME time during football season!

Learning From Mom

We learn to be parents from our parents…Right? My Mom didn't have very good teachers and THAT is putting it mildly. My Mom however, was a decent parent. Always doing the best she could with what she had and I would like to think I've built on that and become a fairly decent parent myself. Although I suppose my daughter will have to confirm or deny.

Monday evening at about 7:00 PM, I had a conversation with my Mother via the telephone that I have been waiting to have for the better part of ten years. My mom has known I am "you know" (she can't say the G word) for several years now. However, we have not had an open conversation about it. She has avoided my attempts at all costs even at times going as far as leaving the room to avoid a conversation about my personal life. As time went on, she was so afraid she would somehow hear something about my personal life that she would even avoid conversations about my job, house, weekend plans or anything that might bring us to mention the name of someone I may have been dating. So we basically talked about Allyssa and a lot of nothing.

At first I was fine with that. In the beginning it was new to me too, so I didn't know what to say to her. I had only come out to a few people and all were very accepting. I didn't know how I would deal with my mother who has said out loud that she wished that Jerry Falwell's church was closer so she could attend because he was such a powerful and insightful man. So while she was obviously in a place where she didn't / couldn't talk about it – I was fine to instate my own "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy. Nearly ten years later, much like the American military, we were still operating on that policy. Until about 2 weeks ago….

Long story short, I decided to write my Mom a letter. It was a long letter that detailed my feelings and emotions surrounding the last ten years and the lack of interest my Mom had shown in my life. I apologized for not more openly inviting her into my life and basically gave her an invitation to get with the program so to speak. My Mom came to bat like a champ! Those of you who REALLY know my Mom know that this was NO SMALL feat. That it took everything she had and then some to pull herself together and do the right thing where this was concerned. BUT she did it… and our relationship will be better for it.

I learned something about my mother that day, she is much more logical than I ever gave her credit for and while her beliefs won't change per se, she is willing to change a little and that is a good thing. I learned something about parenting that day too, something I knew but have never been tested on. It really doesn't matter what you believe or how strong those beliefs and convictions are, if you are one of those parents, a parent always doing the best you can with what you have - the love you have for your children will always be stronger.

My Life As Most Of You Know It

I found myself conversing via email the other day with an old friend. We've known each other since junior high and thanks to the wonders of the internet, our paths crossed again several years ago. We chat via email a few times a month and while I haven't seen this person in years, I would still classify her as a friend.

I had some exciting news to share with her on Monday and as I told the story I realized that somewhere back when we reconnected via the world wide web I had failed to completely explain what path my life had taken since I had left California. We had talked many times about our kids, homes and jobs, but there were parts of my life that I think are so ordinary, I just never thought to mention them. I have reconnected with several friends from my past. I never think to tell my people what kind of car I drive, or what kind of house I own. I don't think to mention that I am still a blonde or that I wear Nike tennis shoes. In the same respect, I rarely think to mention that I am also gay.

There was a time when I was afraid and didn't divulge information about my personal life out of fear. However, now that is not the case. It's not because I am embarrassed or ashamed, it's simply that I just don't think to mention it. It's such a small part of who I am, such an inconsequential part of my being, that it never occurs to me to warn people.

I am "out" in all aspects of my life. At home, at work and in my community, so sometimes it slips my mind that in my world you DO have to tell people otherwise they will assume you are straight. (Especially, if the last time they saw you, you were married and had a baby.)

So… for those of you who never asked if I was involved, for those of you that assumed I was straight, and for those of you who really never cared one way or the other, I am gay.

I am in a long term relationship with an amazing woman named Lisa. Who happened to ask me to marry her on Sunday. So… we are very happy and know that our friends will be very happy for us.

If you have any questions, comments or even concerns I would be more than happy to hear them!

Happy Halloween!

To Self Check or Not To Self Check

Okay... so it's 8:45 PM on a weekend night and I, accompanied by another logical adult am on my way to a "superstore" that will remain unnamed. (ONLY because I don't want to send one ounce of energy their way.) I will call said Superstore - Satan's Lair. We enter the den of the devil and make a quick run exactly to the aisle we need and rush to get out of there before any of the reasons I despise shopping there rub off on me.... We head to the check out and see that true to form, there are 124 people in line at approximately 3 registers. (Yes, that is a slight exaggeration - but not much.) So I look to my right and see that the lights are on at the Self Check. **Note that I am ALREADY ADAMANTLY OPPOSED to self check - am I getting a discount? NO. Then why the hell am I checking out my own stuff?? ** So I get to the self check (further into the depths of hell) where I am greeted by a "woman" (I think) who has 3 teeth, bad grammar and is in the management program. She informs me that the SELF check lanes are closed. Apparently they close at 9:00. HOWEVER, I remind her that it is NOT 9:00 - it's only 8:50. "Sorry " she says, "we have to close 'em down and theys (YES - THEYS) closed." Okay...so let me get this straight - I am checking MYSELF out... I do not need assistance (THANK GOD!) from anyone working (or pretending to work) but you still have to close the self check registers? AND you have to close them EARLY? She mumbled something under her breath and I vowed again to avoid Satan's Lair at all costs. The store is dirty, on any given day I feel like I am on the set of Deliverence when I go in there and the customer service is NONEXISTENT!!

My best friend told me that said Superstore was the home of the devil years ago.... She's always right... I should have listened!

No Braids, No Uniform, No Disney Lunchbox

Today was the first day of school. Back to school means a lot of different things to different people. It means school supplies and backpacks, school buses and traffic. It means new clothes, new shoes and sometimes new haircuts. For me it means my baby is getting older.

The first day of school has ALWAYS been just another reason for me to have a good cry. For those of you who know me… I mean REALLY know me; you know that in reality, that doesn't take much. I'm not unstable, depressed or crazy – well, maybe a little crazy- but I am just one of those people who can cry over a good movie, or even a Publix commercial. (DON'T LAUGH unless you've seen it and haven't gotten the least bit teary-eyed!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHkqGgPpQOE
But the first day of school is a little different. It always opens the floodgates for all kinds of emotions and usually accounts for me crying all the way to work, randomly fighting tears throughout the day and crying some more in retrospect when the day is finally over.

In August of 1997 I pulled out of the parking lot of Harvest Christian Academy, after leaving my little girl in the hands of strangers. I never imagined that any other first day of school would be as hard as that one! She was headed off to Kindergarten. As independent as she was – even at only four years old and just under 35 pounds, she didn't even want me to walk her in. She only relented to my begging after realizing that there was no one else to carry in her cubby crate.

Fast forward ten (what should have been) long years…. And believe me when I tell you that almost every year – the first day of school is almost (not quite) but almost as hard as the day I left her at Kindergarten. The first day of middle school ran a very close second until last year, the first day of high school. But every year is hard.

Today I woke her up and true to her nature (most of the time) she looked at me with one eye open, a slight smile and said "Hi Momma." I could have sworn I saw my gapped tooth child through the face of the teenaged girl who I still think of as my baby.

Pulling up to the high school I was reminded of last year, her first day as a freshman. The kids all looked so much bigger and older then. The boys looked like men and the girls were looking for the boys. The parking lot full of kids that drove themselves to school and only a handful of parents dropping their children off. This year didn't look much different, but my daughter looked a little more the part than she did last year.

She and her best friend jumped out of the car the second I came to a stop. With no cubby crate she didn't need my help getting into the school. She kissed my cheek. "Bye Momma!" she said with a true twinkle in her eye and a grin on her face. As she walked away from the car I saw her, my tiny little girl in braids, a school uniform and a 101 Dalmatians lunchbox. Smiling, happy and talking. Not a care in the world, just headed for a new adventure. I blinked and looked again to see my nearly grown daughter. Now taller than me, hair that had taken 30 minutes to straighten, jeans, a t-shirt, a little bit of eye liner and no Disney lunch box.

Maybe it's that she is an only child. Maybe it's that I am a tiny bit protective. Maybe it's that the years have literally felt like minutes and there are some that I really just wish I could have back – even if it were for only a moment.

Women In The Workplace

If you are a woman and have ever worked outside of your home in any type of setting, chances are you've heard at least one horror story about how women tend to treat each other in the workplace. From gossiping to outright physical confrontations, I've heard some of the best of them. It seems that sometimes when women get into work space with other women, they revert to high school like behavior. I don't know if it's a self preservation mechanism or if it's just that those women truly failed to mentally mature beyond the age of 17, but this kind of thing happens – apparently a lot.

Four years ago I left my job of nearly 5 years where I was the only woman to go into a position where (at the time) between my two teams there were several women and only one man. (Bless his heart!) Spending my first five years of corporate life with men, I hadn't really even heard the rumors about catty women in the workplace. However, when I came to my new job and told my friends what my new situation was like, (several women and one man, all working very closely together) they ALL gave me the same warnings. Watch out for the women. Don't let anything get personal, take all your ideas straight to your boss sharing with no one along the way, don't make any female friends at work because they'll stab you in the back the second you turn around. The general consensus was that if I absolutely HAD to trust anyone at my new place of employment, it should only be the lone male on the team. I teased my friends about their lack of faith in womankind and continued on my path with my female led and supported teams and never gave it any other thought.

As the years passed, I saw what my friends meant in other divisions at my company. I saw other women lie, cheat and claw to get what they wanted and needed – even if it was only attention. Somehow, someway, when I would cross back over that imaginary line from wherever I was coming from back into my own department, I knew that the women I worked with were different. I knew that those women would have my back. It was never discussed how other women in business behaved, we were never told by our female bosses that we were to treat each other a certain way, we just did. Over the years we saw some women come and go but our core group remained in tact. We all had very different personality types. Among those, we had a cheerleader, a diva, a peacemaker, a realist, an organizer, a charmer, a comedienne, a mom, a planner, and a few that sometimes shared many traits. On most days we had no problem disagreeing and sometimes even though there was tension, at the end of the day, we were still a team. We've laughed together and cried together – with that many women you can only imagine how often we've cried together. We have been through marital and financial strain, babies, engagements, marriages, separations, illnesses and job losses. Somehow the stars had aligned and the paths of all these very different women had crossed and it worked. Most of the time it even worked well.

In four years through industry ups and downs our teams have gone from 20+ to eight. Sometime we are more like siblings, some are closer than others and of course we all have our favorites – myself included. But it seems we are a closer now than ever, as we've seen the rest of our team, taken apart by the mighty bottom line.

Thursday night, winding down an extremely hectic day (preparing for ANOTHER buyout) I went into my boss's office and knew she had been crying. I asked if there was anything she needed and she began to cry. She was told earlier in the day by her boss that I had been added to the list of countless people in our company who had already lost their jobs – there would be fifty more and I was one of them. She wasn't asked, she was told.

Friday morning at 6:45 AM tears rolling down my face, I looked around at the place I call home for some 40+ hours a week - my office. The office I had grown to love. The pictures, the funny notes and sayings that lined my collage of a corkboard and the other random things that would jog my memory of some really, truly good times I have had at work. And I cried. I cried out of fear, I have never lost my job. I cried because I am a single income household with a 14 year old daughter. I cried out of anger, I knew we were facing layoffs and sought out other employment and was offered a decent package from a global company but after the EVP of our company looked me and the rest of my team in the eyes and said he could personally guarantee each of our jobs through the end of the year, I decided to hang on until late fall for the sake of my bosses and our dwindling teams. Turns out he couldn't truly guarantee anything. I cried because as of Monday, July 9th I won't have a commute, or an office, or a job.

I cried because for four really great years, my life has been touched every single day by a group of truly amazing women.

So now there are seven…

Jesus, please protect me from SOME of your followers!

Wow... Where to even begin this blog...

I began my day with a voicemail from an irate client - who (for the record) does not know me. We have never met, and we have never spoken on the phone. The voicemail droned on for about 30 seconds and ended with, "someone better call me - right F*@#ING NOW!" I laugh, go meet with my boss who lets me know he's already gotten to her and that this is his standard means of communication. (NICE!) Standard means of communicating... In a business setting!!

A few hours later I get a voicemail on my personal cell phone from a self employed aquaintence that I was trying to contact to send some business her way. As she's leaving me a voicemail she is yelling at someone else and using some rather colorful language that also included a quick F word or two. She asks me to return her call at her office. So I proceed to call her back at her office. (HER OFFICE = HER COMPANY..the company she actually owns) Of course, I get the automated phone message. After all the basic B.S. who we are, what we do, I hear, "Although we are family owned and operated, our true boss is a Jewish carpenter. May the Lord bless and keep you."

WHOA! Back the boat up! WHAT? Does Jesus know you are referring to him as your boss?? Does this imply that Jesus wants you dropping the "F Bomb" on random voicemails? I mean...He is your boss and all....

This lead me right up onto my soap box... What is with the people that claim to be followers of Christ that do these things that are seemingly so un Christ like?? I am perfectly fine with religions of all kinds and all walks of faith and spirituality, but if you are going to stick a whole school of little fish on the back of your car, don't you think you should refrain from using your middle finger to rudely gesture to other drivers? If you are going to have a bumper sticker that says, "Know Jesus, Know Peace" that maybe, just MAYBE you should not drive down the road screaming at your kids in the back seat, swatting at them with your free hand? Or my very favorite - which I actually witnessed first hand. The woman in the grocery store, with a shirt on that had a picture of a newborn in what was assumed to be the hand of God / Jesus and the shirt read, "Jesus Loves The Unborn." I am literally reading her shirt as she is grabbing her child (pre-teenage girl) by the arm and says in the talking through your teeth Mom voice... "I swear to God, I'm gonna kill you if you roll your eyes at me one more time." I wanted to stop and ask her if her Jesus loved teenage girls too? Or is just the unborn?

My point is... if you have these things on your car, on your clothes or in your office... and you REALLY want people to think you are a devout follower of the Christian faith... Go back and read up on Jesus Christ... Make sure He'd want you proclaiming to be one of His "employees."

Teenagers....

Have I mentioned that I have a teenage daughter? Did you know that it is a universal law that once puberty strikes a teenage girl MUST disagree with everything her mother says?

Yes... It's true. Sad, but true.

I love being a Mom. Always have, probably always will. From her birth until last Friday night, I have loved every single second of being her Mom. There were no late nights with a sick or crying baby. The terrible two's were a myth in my house. Three and Four were fascinating and wonderful for both of us and the years that followed were equally fantastic! Even when other mother's warned me to prepare for middle school and I did… Like Y2K… Nothing. So admittedly…. I let my guard down.

Then she turned on me. How could this have happened? How did she go, in what seemed like minutes, from being a sweet, loving, fun, cheerful and carefree child to becoming an argumentative, sulking, petulant little brat???

The rolling of the eyes, the look as if to say, "Mom, you are a complete idiot," the big sigh with the arm cross in front of the chest and the disagreeing with EVERYTHING I say -- all mothers of teenage daughters know exactly what I am talking about… Don't get me wrong, all of those things combined don't begin to compare to the other stories I have heard and in some cases seen. With some teenage girls rapidly turning from happy kids who love life, to angry young women who are cutting, starving and acting out sexually… Admittedly, it could be a lot worse. But still… WHY?? Why my daughter?? Was it too much to ask for her to be different than EVERY OTHER TEENAGE girl to ever have walked the planet??

In retrospect, having a teenager has quickly begun to resemble my labor and delivery with said child. I was a young mother and took all the childbirth classes I could handle. So when the time came, I just knew my own labor and delivery was going to go as effortlessly as any good Lamaze Movie. I had fully prepared myself for my contractions to begin 39 minutes apart, causing so little irritation that I would be able to continue doing dishes and animatedly laughing with my (then) husband. The contractions would over the course of several hours increase both in number and intensity but this time span would allow me to build up my tolerance and would surely allow for a smooth, happy and fulfilling Labor and Delivery. Enter my amazing unborn child. Two weeks past due... nearly nine pounds and not exactly wanting to give me the time I thought I needed to "Build My Tolerance."

I thought I had time to prepare. I thought wrong. My first contractions were a mere three minutes apart, not the 39 minutes I had envisioned, and were lasting over a minute a piece. There were no dishes to be done and the only thing I wanted to do with my husband in that moment was put him through a slow and tortuous death!! As quickly as it began, it ended and she came into my world with a vengeance just under eight hours later.

So I guess in hindsight, I should have been preparing for this moment for 14 years… And I am still shocked that it has happened so quickly.