Thursday, April 29, 2010

Party Girl Me VS Stepford Wife Me

A few weeks ago I reconnected with my best friend from high school. At the time we were inseparable, we went to (SKIPPED) school together and even worked at the same place. We double-dated to prom with our first loves and later cried together when they broke our hearts. And then I left and up until a few weeks ago, had no contact with her.
The reasons have been diluted by time, but I packed my car and pointed it west and never looked back. I never considered what I might be leaving behind or that I might want to get it back some day. That first trip from Virginia to California was the beginning of an odyssey of making mistakes, bad decisions and then bailing. Lather, rinse, repeat. What amazes me was how easy it was for me to just pick up and leave, to break connections, as fragile as they might have been, and hit the road. It took me many years to realize that no matter where I went, there I was, and that no matter the name of the town, or the latest Jose Cuervo induced bad decision, it was all the same.
I was always running from my latest mistake, terrified they would catch up with me. I remember working in Corpus Christi and having uh..."my past" from California walk in and say, "didn't you used to live in 29 Palms?" "Yes, I did," I replied, "and mistakes like you are the reason I moved 1000 miles away." He just kinda smiled and said, "yeah, I hear ya" and walked away. Face, enjoy being slapped by past.
I keep my sordid past deeply hidden and the Party-Girl I used to be far away from The Stepford Wife I now am. There are no "old friends" on my Facebook page, because I have no old friends. Dead men tell no tales. I don't need my kids hearing stories of the time their mom....The deeper truth is that I don't want to hear those stories. I am afraid of those stories and they fill me with shame, even as they make me appreciate the life I have now.
Now, as I reconnect with my past I am slowly naming the fear and the shame. I'm afraid my old friend won't like me any more. I'm afraid of having being confronted with the hurt I must have caused her when I just left like nothing about my past mattered. I'm afraid of asking, "what happened to us?" No, that isn't completely honest. Maybe it isn't honest at all. What I'm really afraid of is asking, "what did I do to you?" I am deeply ashamed of the wreckage I have left behind for others to clean up, and I realize that I can try to use my new life as a good mom, being a respectable a social worker, and house in the suburbs as evidence that I am a good person and that no matter the past, "all's well that ends well" but my biggest fear is that I haven't changed all that much and I am still that person who couldn't seem to quit fucking up her life and that my past is going to rear its ugly head and snatch away everything that is precious to me today. Maybe because of who I was in the past, I have no right to all I have today.
That Party-Girl seems, even after all these years, determined to rear her big 80's hair. So it is The Party-Girl vs The Stepford Wife. The Party-Girl is scrappier and will probably fight dirtier, but The Stepford Wife has some skills too, and a pretty great life that is more than worth fighting for. And maybe, just maybe, they can learn to stop feeling so much shame over the life they have BOTH lived and contributed to. One thing they do seem to bond over is wondering, "what the hell is she wearing!"

Monday, April 19, 2010

Gotta Get Moving

I really need to get moving. I wonder why even though I have ideas I would like to blog about, I don't. It is not for lack of time, I waste enough of it on Facebook etc...

List of topics to visit:
Magic moments and Strawberry Wine
The Last Ten Pounds
Ex Bffs
I know there is more.

Okay I guess starting a list is a beginning!