See this...it's a fake.
So, I am watching a movie called "Her" starring Joaquin Phoenix and Scarlet Johanssen. (my all time girl crush) And it made me think of something.
I'm watching a date scene between Joaquin and Olivia Wilde and as they are making out, she stops suddenly and asks: "your're not just going to fuck me and never call me again like the other guys are you?"
He answers: "No. Absolutely not."
She counters: "Cause, you know...I feel like this time in my life I can't afford to waste my time-when am I going to see you again?"
With this, he obviously recoils. (duh, right?)
She claims he is a creepy guy and walks away.
I mean...
This made me think a lot about baggage. The scene was brilliantly acted by both parties, and what it said out loud was ridiculously true to life.
The dynamics between men and women in this day and age mirrors a lot of what it was like for me to be single.
You crave companionship and love your whole life. Not, platonic love-family, friends etc. You want that connection that only comes with a lover-whether it be male, female, etc...
But what happens when you find it-like it drops in your lap?
Before my husband came along I was dating a lot. I had some long term relationships that ended terribly, despite all attempts to make smoother landings in that vein.
They ended this way mostly because of my inability to embrace change. Whether I really was happy in the relationship or not-I have a tendency to hang on with my claws until (what then becomes-the bitter) end.
So, there was always an end no matter what-and it changed me.
I kept looking ahead too far with every prospect and it made me ridiculously needy and clingy.
Until my last big breakup...which I did hold on to for far too long. I let him drag me around like his fucking puppet for 3 years-waiting for him to:
1. Grow up
2. Fully commit
3. Love me in return
4. Quit looking around for the bigger, better, deal.
and
5. Realize that I was good for him.
He never did. And after that, I was absolutely done.
The switch was flipped inside me.
There was suddenly no clingy behavior, or desperation. There was acceptance, and anger, curbed with bitterness. But, there was nothing else.
I dated...and shuffled every guy off pretty quickly-finding fault in every move, every facial expression, every poor choice of Polo shirt color.
Minuscule details-were suddenly deal breakers.
Red flags were everywhere-littering the landscape like Count Vlad's impaled bodies on a Romanian battlefield.
I was no longer like Olivia Wilde's character-looking ahead so quickly and wanting, wanting, wanting.
I had gone full circle into Mr. Hyde mode.
Either way...it was just another form of baggage wrapped in a different label. From Chanel to Fendi, I guess. But, bad knock-off Fendi from a back alley somewhere, and a guy yelling: YOU BUY NOW!
The point is, we all have that breaking point. Years of dating, bad breakups, bad choices, and bad behavior can turn you into a shell of a person pretty quickly. I had no recourse, there. It just happened.
And it happens to so many of us.
Like Olivia's stellar portrayal of a desperate Singleton grasping for a real connection and using sex-to get there. Much like me, back when.
Baggage can just destroy your ability to see the Forrest through the trees and be yourself. Better yet, love yourself enough to leave the bags in the trunk and shuffle off onto greener pastures.
Luckily, I found someone who had the same fears, and the same wall. And we spent 3 years breaking through it.
I still have days where my independence is stronger than I'd like it to be. And I forget that there is more than just me and my son to consider now.
And truth be told, we have argued the point at length on occasion.
But, all in all...he forgives me for it because he understands that the struggle is real for me, given my past.
And honestly, his too.
It took a great deal of mutual understanding to sift through that pile of fake Fendi's, let me tell you. But-when I met him, something changed. This was so much easier than every other thing out there, every failure, every circumstance of the past. They say in fiction that you "just know" and every jaded bone in my body tends to fight convention and fictitious storybook schlock. But, there I was-forgetting all of that and realizing that this time-maybe-it was non-fiction and I had to stop fighting it.
When my wall fell, his did too and that, in itself, is a miracle. Like the myth of the simultaneous orgasm-sometimes life surprises you.
Rarely. I'm still a realist, what can I say.
Baggage is there to destroy your hopes. And even if sub-consciously you are the very person who created it, it takes an act of faith and God, as they say to destroy it.
So the message here might be this.
If you are struggling, feeling lonely, feeling utterly alone (because the two are NOT mutually exclusive) just take a breath and remember who you are.
Find a happy middle ground between the clingy doormat, and the bitch on wheels. Be true to that sunny girl of 16, but bring your wisdom with you. In a REAL Fendi, not a fake one.
I had a very hard time with this, but I have faith that most of you who read, are much smarter than I am and also thinner.
Assholes.
I kid, sorta.
Perspective. I like that shit.
I carry a Liz Claiborne, currently. No judgement.
Purses is love,
XOXO
Me.
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