Tuesday, May 6, 2014

True love

Thirteen years ago today (or tomorrow, I am bad with dates) I met my lovely husband. I bumped into him, unplanned, at the Gen Art after party for the Margarita Happy Hour screening.

A mere 12 hours prior, I was in Los Angeles about to go to the airport. I was there for the film screening in the Los Angeles Film Festival. At the screening I had met a guy who had gone to school with the film’s director and who hooked up with my girlfriend. He seemed like a really good guy. As I was walking out the door to catch a ride to the airport he said to me “you should meet my best friend, we’ve been friends since kindergarten.” I wanted to roll my eyes, but made a mental note of it, because I liked the idea of someone being a friend since kindergarten, it spoke of strong character.

So there I was 12 hours later at the after party and I overheard someone say that they went to school with the film’s director and I just knew that it was “the best friend”. At the time, I had no idea he would be my future husband. Still, I walked up and said his name.

My husband remembers it differently. He recalls coming up to me. Alas, memory is a funny thing and we will never know what really happened, but we met and the rest is history.

I had been walking the wrong path up till that point, dating really unavailable men. You can read all about it here: http://hollyramoswrites.blogspot.com/2013/03/heartbreak.html
Anyway, things changed because I worked really hard to change them. I have become available to the life I really wanted.

Then last week I had an incident happen that shook me to my core. It was a great disappointment around my core wounds. It was no one’s fault really, just a chemical reaction of personalities bumping into each other and churning up ancient cellular pain. The feelings that were brought up were colossal. I was so sad and I wanted to curl up and disappear. I felt so depressed and did not feel able to fight my way up for air, did not feel able to shake the heavy gluey hellish muggy cloud of despair that had engulfed me. Old poison can still be quite powerful. Urg.

I was reminded of something I had read during 9/11- that when a big crisis/emergency happens often people get lethargic. They mill around and do not fight or take initiative. I do not know if it is because they are in shock or in the freeze part of fight, flight or freeze, but it happens, it is a known phenomenon. The antidote for it is to think of your family. People who think of their families are the ones who rally, who fight, who escape, and who may even lead others to safety. Even Elie Wiesel talks about how thoughts of his wife were what helped him go on when he could no longer go on in the concentration camp.

I often use this tool, use thoughts of my husband and my kids, to get me through difficulties. It may not be a big emergency that I am confronting, but when you come from a traumatic upbringing, even a small incident can feel overwhelming. So instead of curling up and giving up, I think of my family and it works. I fight, I survive and I thrive. 

Fight for what you want and who you want to be. It is within your reach. If I can do it, you can do it too. I write this to remind myself.

And I am grateful.  I say this to my husband again and again,  and I will say it now: Thank you for making my life. 
what is a great love song to end with ? hard to pick. i think this one feels perfect...

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