Let me see...I am in love, head over heels. But I have not accomplished a goal for me, by me, of me, in my whole life. But the expectations of the "other" in my life, I am expected to accomplish, as we become a "team". My man, love, heart, has placed upon me a set of expectations that I set out to do. Each one of his expectations I took as my own. But they are not mine. They are not what I want in my life, but they are his desires, and dreams. I have tendencies, and I must not allow these tendencies to continue, at risk of my own health, if not my life.
I was born to children having children. I was created by a man who was vengeful, and poisonous, who took my innocence. I believe he did this out of revenge, to get at my mother, because she left him, she defied his will, she made her own life, and she was successful at it. Since she was molested by her father, it would be a most painful thing to her, so he did it to me, and my sister. Of course I cannot prove it, and there is no reason to, as it was so many years ago. I say this not to cast aspersions on my father. It is what it is. Life goes on, if it can. But damn, it sure shapes the way you are to anyone you come across. And baby, I am one damaged individual.
I wanted my father to be proud of me. I wanted him to love me, and smile at me, for doing something. Being someone he could be proud of. The second and maybe the last time I put stock in this dynamic, was when I wanted to be a stewardess, the terminology of the day. "I'll believe it when I see it, " he said.
My thoughts on this now are, really? You would say this to a child who only wanted your approval? The first man in my life, and he crushed me. I didn't know at that time that this was not the first time. The first time was the abuse.
So, I decided there was nothing I could do. I already knew what a woman was to a man, didn't I? Wasn't it what he could get sexually? Of course it was. For years I was allowed to read the manuals, expected to read the manuals, the porn novels, the pornographic art, that he gave to me, telling the others that I was old enough. Special. I don't know what he told my sister when he groomed her, but man, what a prick.
I say all of this to preface the now of my life. My expectations, my desires. I thought that they were simple, and easily attained. I believed that all I wanted in this life was to be loved by a man, and that would be that. But it was never so, no more now than with the first one, but now the difference is, I recognize it. I see that my needs are not trivial, nor are my goals, and desires, any less important than his. They parallel each other, really. I want cruelty to animals to end. I want to set up no kill shelters where I can. I want to teach people the benefits of a vegan diet, not only for themselves, but the benefits for the planet. I want all of this, but I want it my way, through my own direction.
No, I don't know exactly what that direction is. I'm beginning to think it is being by myself, riding my bicycle some 2500 miles from Boyce, VA, to Puyallup, WA, where my family is. I'm beginning to think that no matter how long this takes, I can do it. I'm beginning to think that I must learn how to change a bicycle tire, how to fix a flat with a patch kit, how to gain stamina, and ultimately, I'm beginning to think that I need to ride at least 80 to 100 miles per day to do my goal.
My. Goal. I can't even sleep on the floor with the dogs. I guess I have to start training myself to do that, too. I haven't told my husband my plan. I haven't even hinted at it. For all he knows, my only goal is to ride a bike from Brunswick, MD to Pittsburgh, PA, the end of the Chesapeake Ohio Canal Tow Path (National Park) and Great Allegheny Passage.
But as I look at the C O Canal and GAP, I see that this would be almost 400 miles. That it would be near enough to I-90, which is a straight across the top highway that goes all the way to Seattle. The more I look, the more it puts me close.
My marriage is on the rocks. We have separate rooms, though he still says he loves me. What he doesn't understand is that by the time I train myself out of needing to be loved, I may have restrictions of my own that don't coincide with his needs. To say you love someone, then don't touch them, don't allow for hugs, hand holding, you have changed that love to a friendship. That problem, which he created, becomes my pain. My pain is a problem for me of awareness of my own internal issues, my own personal demons.
What he has to know is that the closer I get to conquering my own demons, the further away from the woman I was to him, the closer I am to being the woman I always wanted to be. I have a feeling that the demands I put on him will have to be addressed by him, or it will create its own set of problems.
The closer I get to my dream of independence, the further away I am from the horrors of my childhood. I become a whole new 'who' with a brand new 'why'. Life will not be sweeter than that, than losing the shackles of loss, and rape. No, life will not be sweeter.
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