Today is the 28th anniversary of my birth. Not by any means a traditionally significant birthday. For me however, the year between 27 and 28 has been probably the most life changing thus far.
This time last year, I was prepping for my birthday party. A gathering that would somehow turn into the wildest of college-esque parties where cops were called, lap dances were given and hangovers were had by all. As were crabs by a few.
I was working on figuring out what my life was going to look like as a person of almost 30 in a bad marriage with too many co-dependent friends. Rather than deal with the issues head on, I ran, head first into crazy.
I spent the first 6 months of my 27th year fighting to stay afloat in a sea of uncertainty. I fell for a woman, for the first time in many years. Then, when i wasn't sure what to do what that information, I gave her to my husband. He then unceremoniously placed her in my position as wife and bumped me down to the position of bread winner and nanny.
I still can’t say what lead me to her, or to that life. I think it had a lot to do with this idea that more people equals more love. I have always been a slut for love. I can’t get enough and you can never prove your love to me too often or in too grand a way. I saw adding this woman to our lives as a way to amp up the love quotient in an increasingly loveless marriage. I wanted to believe that I was doing it for my daughter, that more parents, more love would be best for her. I was lying to myself and I know that now. I woke up one morning and saw that my house, both metaphorical and literal, was an absolute mess. Change had to happen immediately.
When I finally got the courage to say no more, I was left in a spot where I felt alone, worthless, and stupid. Luckily, I have a fantastic family and friend family. They rallied for me, driving to Bellingham in the middle of the night to rescue my daughter and me from a situation in which we could not think and could get no light. They held me while I cried, they held her while she cried and let her ask the questions no one could answer. They made the worst months of my life bearable. Once I was through the initial grieving phase, which for me lasts approximately 2 weeks, I was ready to find out what my life was going to look like without a 250lb pajama wearing weight around my neck.
Enter my Vulcan Hetero Life mate; also known as The Diet Husband, My Insignificant Other, Friend Dad, and to his friends; Jon. When I didn’t think I could stand on my own, there was Jon, propping me up. When things were so bad I didn’t know who, or where I was, there was Jon. We have been great friends for 8 years, he was the best man at my wedding and carried my daughter down the aisle. When my house was falling down, he was with me, baking bread, singing to the kids, and strategizing ways to make it better. When it was time to go, he came with me. There was no question that we would live together once we left the house. We found a place, 3 bedrooms, and started the process of making a life together.
This is a man that has no reason to be here. He is 27, single, going to school, has no real responsibility in this world, but here he is. Every morning he gets my daughter up for school, gets her dressed, takes a bus to get her to her friend’s house so she can get to school on time. He comes home, does his homework, cleans up the house and goes to his own school. He comes home and on several nights a week, cooks me dinner, makes me tea and lets me lay on him and soak up comfort. He holds me when I cry and he tells my daughter how much he loves her even when she’s kicking him and telling him she wants to punch him in the throat. When you ask him why he does this, he looks at you blankly and blinks. “I love them and I want Lily to grow up right”; as though you are clearly an idiot for asking such an obvious question. (Vulcan)
I have worried that Pinkone and I are holding him back from something, making his life more difficult, keeping him from finding lusty co-eds to satisfy his carnal desires and allow him the typical college experience. Then, I found his notebook. It was open to a page labeled 1, 5 and 10 year plans. Under each of these headings he listed his goals, goals that were not only his, but mine. He included Lily and me in his goals, his life plan. I cried a little. This is something her father was never willing to do. He had no life plan and seeing that someone who had no biological or legal ties to either of us was so willing to do so...I knew then that this guy, my best friend, was also my partner. Whatever that means. We are in it together, for better or worse.
In large part because of Jon, and also because of the other fantastic friends I have made and re-connected with over the last 6 months I am coming into 28 feeling more whole than I have ever felt in my life. I am living in a state of attached freedom, and I am committed to the life that Jon, Lily and I are building as a family. I am committed to expanding my mind and my talents and using them to better my family’s circumstances. I am committed to getting to know myself and doing things that are good for me, rather than convenient for others. I am committed to doing 28 a hell of a lot better than I did 27.
So, happy birthday to me, instead of sexy parties, this year we will be seeing Harry Potter (for the second time) and having dinner with my sisters. Decidedly less exciting but something the real, 28 year old me is looking forward to more than any filthy party and lap dance combination.
I have loved, I have lost. I have made friends and lost friends in this last year. I have lost myself, and began the process of re-discovering who I really am, and who I want to be. Best of all, I have given my daughter and myself, a chance to thrive in a clean "house", with a family that wants nothing more than to be together and to be happy.
Vulcan, you stink and I love you.
