It seems like nearly every team sport in the world uses some sort of flag to indicate a foul. Referees fling them in the air, wave them on sticks, hold up little cards that represent flags, usually accompanied by some sort of whistle blowing. All of these signals indicate that someone has done something they shouldn't and play will now cease until a penalty has been assessed. I wish that relationships worked that way. TWEET! Forgot the birthday! Five yard penalty! FWEET! Lack of romance! 24 hours in the penalty box! WHEET! Failure to express emotions! You're outta here! *dirt kicking and hat throwing ensues* Unfortunately there aren't any of those things, so we just keep cruising along, scoring willy nilly* when maybe we should have slowed down or backed up a little. I mean there are flags. Some are tiny, some are huge, flaming red, and waving in your face, but there's nothing there to enforce the penalty. You can stop and take a closer look at that play, but often it's more fun to keep the game going than really examine that flag, especially when you've just begun. Everything is all a new, exciting, rush of breathlessness. And we all do stuff that could mean a red flag to someone else. Past addiction issues, commitment issues, still stuck on the ex issues, entire bloody subscriptions worth of issues, but how do you tell which ones are the ones that should be show stoppers and which are just little speed bumps? When you're sitting having coffee on that first date do you stop mid-conversation and say "Whoa there! That thing you just told me about you is a deal breaker," and walk out? I'd hate to have someone make that kind of judgment about me during our first conversation without really getting to know me, and yet I know I've learned things about people in the first moments of discussion that made me pause, and eventually resulted in exactly what I was concerned about from the start. How do I figure out when to let it ride and when to take my ball and go home?
*The phrase "willy nilly" makes me giggle like a loon for no apparent reason other than words are funny. Willy nilly! Mwahahahaha!
© Sarah Ultis 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
I'm Gonna Find Another You
It's really over, you made your stand
You got me crying, as was your plan
But when my loneliness is thru, I'm gonna find another you
You take your sweaters
You take your time
You might have your reasons but you will never have my rhymes
I'm gonna sing my way away from blue
I'm gonna find another you
When I was your lover
No one else would do
If I'm forced to find another, I hope she looks like you
Yeah and she's nicer too
So go on baby
Make your little get away
My pride will keep me company
And you just gave yours all away
Now I'm gonna dress myself for two
Once for me and once for someone new
I'm gonna do somethings you wouldn't let me do
Oh I'm gonna find another you
By John Mayer
You got me crying, as was your plan
But when my loneliness is thru, I'm gonna find another you
You take your sweaters
You take your time
You might have your reasons but you will never have my rhymes
I'm gonna sing my way away from blue
I'm gonna find another you
When I was your lover
No one else would do
If I'm forced to find another, I hope she looks like you
Yeah and she's nicer too
So go on baby
Make your little get away
My pride will keep me company
And you just gave yours all away
Now I'm gonna dress myself for two
Once for me and once for someone new
I'm gonna do somethings you wouldn't let me do
Oh I'm gonna find another you
By John Mayer
Thursday, October 20, 2011
What Dreams May Come
Tomorrow is my birthday and I will be 37 years old. T-H-I-R-T-Y S-E-V-E-N (said in a cheesy slow-motion Jim Carey sort of voice.) Now I know some of you out there are saying “Ha! What are you complaining about?! I’m 45 (or 55, or….),” but this is a big birthday for me because from my perspective I’m cruising down that hill toward 40 at a rapid pace and I am nowhere near where I thought I’d be at this point in my life. I thought 30 was a tough birthday for the same reason. I was just recovering from an ugly divorce, trying to pay off thousands of dollars worth of debt as a result, working in a crummy, dead-end security job where people screamed at me every day, and my body was having severe symptoms of the chronic illness that I had just been diagnosed with. Today, I find myself recovering from an ugly break-up, working a crummy, dead-end phone job where people scream at me every day, still suffering from fibromyalgia, and while I may not be thousands of dollars in debt, my finances are certainly not where I would like them to be at this stage. The only major difference between then and now is that I’m currently in college on my way to a second degree. (Yay me!)
When I was growing up, I pictured my 30’s as the period in my life where I’d be a college graduate establishing a career, married with a house, and working to make it into a home. When I came out as a lesbian in my late 20’s, none of those goals changed, only the gender of the partner in the picture. As I’m getting older, I feel this sort of pressure, like the clock is ticking down and I’m running out of time to fulfill those dreams. It’s not a “biological clock” sort of ticking because I’ve never had the desire for children, but it’s a similar sort of pressure. The older I get the greater the pressure is, especially when my younger siblings have already accomplished so many of the things I’ve dreamed of doing.
Now I love my family. They are good people and they care about me so don’t judge them, but we have very different ideas about what I should be doing with my life. I’ve had to fight really hard for the freedom to make my own choices, so when I introduce a partner to my family it means I love her and believe she loves me enough to have a future together. When that relationship then goes sideways it’s phenomenally humiliating and all I hear in my head is my mother saying “I just don’t think you’re ever going to be happy in this lifestyle, Sarah.” Sigh. Break-ups like these become even more devastating because not only do I have to explain to my family why they need to update their address books again, but with the end of the relationship the potential for the fulfillment of the dreams I’ve built with this person also ends, and that is probably the most painful part.
I’m discovering that I don’t like having to start over from scratch every time a relationship fails. I get lost and have to reorient, trying to put together who I am and what I want from the leftover pieces. It’s sort of like when you tear a photo in half to remove the picture of someone you don’t want to see. You’re still there, but the photo never looks quite the same. I’ve decided that I need dreams that don’t require another half to the picture. I understand that I don’t need another person to be complete, but the things I’ve always wanted have always included a loving, long-term relationship with a supportive partner. I need hopes and dreams that I can fulfill alone, where there might be room to add another person if the right one ever comes along, but that won’t be destroyed if that part of my life happens to remain vacant. I’m tired of having everything I’ve built be wiped out by a change of heart. I have no idea what these new dreams are going to look like, but I’m going to point my ship in the direction of the horizon and see where it takes me.
“Sail Forth- Steer for the deep waters only. Reckless O soul, exploring. I with thee and thou with me. For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared go. And we will risk the ship, ourselves, and all.”
When I was growing up, I pictured my 30’s as the period in my life where I’d be a college graduate establishing a career, married with a house, and working to make it into a home. When I came out as a lesbian in my late 20’s, none of those goals changed, only the gender of the partner in the picture. As I’m getting older, I feel this sort of pressure, like the clock is ticking down and I’m running out of time to fulfill those dreams. It’s not a “biological clock” sort of ticking because I’ve never had the desire for children, but it’s a similar sort of pressure. The older I get the greater the pressure is, especially when my younger siblings have already accomplished so many of the things I’ve dreamed of doing.
Now I love my family. They are good people and they care about me so don’t judge them, but we have very different ideas about what I should be doing with my life. I’ve had to fight really hard for the freedom to make my own choices, so when I introduce a partner to my family it means I love her and believe she loves me enough to have a future together. When that relationship then goes sideways it’s phenomenally humiliating and all I hear in my head is my mother saying “I just don’t think you’re ever going to be happy in this lifestyle, Sarah.” Sigh. Break-ups like these become even more devastating because not only do I have to explain to my family why they need to update their address books again, but with the end of the relationship the potential for the fulfillment of the dreams I’ve built with this person also ends, and that is probably the most painful part.
I’m discovering that I don’t like having to start over from scratch every time a relationship fails. I get lost and have to reorient, trying to put together who I am and what I want from the leftover pieces. It’s sort of like when you tear a photo in half to remove the picture of someone you don’t want to see. You’re still there, but the photo never looks quite the same. I’ve decided that I need dreams that don’t require another half to the picture. I understand that I don’t need another person to be complete, but the things I’ve always wanted have always included a loving, long-term relationship with a supportive partner. I need hopes and dreams that I can fulfill alone, where there might be room to add another person if the right one ever comes along, but that won’t be destroyed if that part of my life happens to remain vacant. I’m tired of having everything I’ve built be wiped out by a change of heart. I have no idea what these new dreams are going to look like, but I’m going to point my ship in the direction of the horizon and see where it takes me.
“Sail Forth- Steer for the deep waters only. Reckless O soul, exploring. I with thee and thou with me. For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared go. And we will risk the ship, ourselves, and all.”
~ Walt Whitman~
© Sarah Ultis 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Ex-Communication
In the Middle Ages, the Catholic church instituted the practice of excommunication, whereby a person who was doing something that was deemed inappropriate by the church could be excommunicated by the pope. Excommunication essentially constituted being cut off from God because anyone who had been tossed out of the church could not receive absolution from a priest through confession and was therefore damned to Hell. I could go off on a whole tangent about the arrogance of humans presuming to deny someone access to God based upon their own judgment, but that would be getting away from the point. The point is that excommunication was intended to deny salvation and a relationship with God until the censured person repented, and in a lot of ways communicating with exes can be a very similar experience.
For instance, some of you may remember me talking about an ex in my “Forgiveness” entry. Her method of communication is either to have none whatsoever or to heap a pile of vindictive accusation upon my head and then immediately withdraw, preventing me from earning my “salvation” by addressing her unfounded attempts to play the victim. Another ex will happily talk about the weather, or the animals we had to separate in the break-up, or work, but if things get too emotionally intense she retreats into silence, denying me the ability to “absolve” myself of my feelings of loss and sadness or blessing me with the holy gift of a moment of vulnerability on her part. Some exes are C & E (or Christmas and Easter) exes. They show up on special occasions and go through the motions of friendship, perhaps rehashing old times, bringing up inside jokes, and making veiled references to previous sexual escapades, often making your "current" (if you have one) feel extremely uncomfortable, and then vanish back into the woodwork. There are “deathbed” exes who keep you as a back-up plan in case they can’t find someone better or until they’ve had all their fun and they need an emergency Hail Mary to settle down with. They usually call up when their "current" goes kablooie to tell you all about what a huge mistake it was to let you go and how they always knew you’d be the one they would spend their life with. I’ve even had some honest-to-Goddess deathbed exes who wanted to marry me while they thought they were dying but had a sudden change of heart when they began to recover. Hallelujah! It’s a miracle!
Whatever the type of ex, being “ex-communicated” can be extremely painful because at some point in time this was someone I cared about. We had hopes and dreams together. Sometimes we made major purchases together. Sometimes we went through losses of jobs or loved ones together. Sometimes we went through major health issues together. The key word here is “together,” and no matter whether the cease in communication was my choice or hers, or who broke up with whom, it is still hard to let go of this person who was at one point a very intimate part of my life. Time and space makes the loss feel less deep and intense, but the loss is still there. The deeper the love, the longer and more difficult the letting go seems to be. When do I stop feeling like there's a part of me missing?
For instance, some of you may remember me talking about an ex in my “Forgiveness” entry. Her method of communication is either to have none whatsoever or to heap a pile of vindictive accusation upon my head and then immediately withdraw, preventing me from earning my “salvation” by addressing her unfounded attempts to play the victim. Another ex will happily talk about the weather, or the animals we had to separate in the break-up, or work, but if things get too emotionally intense she retreats into silence, denying me the ability to “absolve” myself of my feelings of loss and sadness or blessing me with the holy gift of a moment of vulnerability on her part. Some exes are C & E (or Christmas and Easter) exes. They show up on special occasions and go through the motions of friendship, perhaps rehashing old times, bringing up inside jokes, and making veiled references to previous sexual escapades, often making your "current" (if you have one) feel extremely uncomfortable, and then vanish back into the woodwork. There are “deathbed” exes who keep you as a back-up plan in case they can’t find someone better or until they’ve had all their fun and they need an emergency Hail Mary to settle down with. They usually call up when their "current" goes kablooie to tell you all about what a huge mistake it was to let you go and how they always knew you’d be the one they would spend their life with. I’ve even had some honest-to-Goddess deathbed exes who wanted to marry me while they thought they were dying but had a sudden change of heart when they began to recover. Hallelujah! It’s a miracle!
Whatever the type of ex, being “ex-communicated” can be extremely painful because at some point in time this was someone I cared about. We had hopes and dreams together. Sometimes we made major purchases together. Sometimes we went through losses of jobs or loved ones together. Sometimes we went through major health issues together. The key word here is “together,” and no matter whether the cease in communication was my choice or hers, or who broke up with whom, it is still hard to let go of this person who was at one point a very intimate part of my life. Time and space makes the loss feel less deep and intense, but the loss is still there. The deeper the love, the longer and more difficult the letting go seems to be. When do I stop feeling like there's a part of me missing?
© Sarah Ultis 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
Gravity
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do, I still feel you here 'till the moment I'm gone.
You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain.
CHORUS
Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.
You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone.
CHORUS
Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.
I live here on my knees as I
Try to make you see that you're
Everything I think I need here on the ground.
But you're neither friend nor foe though I
Can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down
You're keeping me down, yeah, yeah, yeah
You're onto me, onto me and all over
Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long
Sara Bareilles
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do, I still feel you here 'till the moment I'm gone.
You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain.
CHORUS
Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.
You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone.
CHORUS
Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.
I live here on my knees as I
Try to make you see that you're
Everything I think I need here on the ground.
But you're neither friend nor foe though I
Can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down
You're keeping me down, yeah, yeah, yeah
You're onto me, onto me and all over
Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long
Sara Bareilles
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