Personal: Numbers and Glass

[butterfly]

My mom turned sixty back in February. I'm not sure if that has anything to do with, well, anything, but it's one of those round numbers that makes a person think. A few months back, I started ending my phone calls to my mom or dad with 'love you', which has become pretty much an established habit by this point. I'm happy about that, about being able to say it (I've been known to have a hard time with such things).

It made me think a little bit about my friendship with my roommate, jic, which is much more... touch-based than any other relationship I've had in the past. I'm not good at reaching out, but I'm learning. Remembering. When I was a kid, I was bossy and playful and utterly certain of my own adorability. But my foundation was made out of glass and when I lost one thing that mattered to me, the rest ceased to matter at all (again, I should note the similarity of this attitude to the one that Willow sports at the end of S6 -- the difference between us was that I was wholly self-destructive, while Willow was also other-destructive). Everything shattered.

My new foundation is not made of glass and it was built over several long years. It will not shatter, because I have made it out of myself and created it to bend and not to break. Instead of starting outside and spiraling in to build me up, it starts on the inside and works outward. It's stronger, but, ultimately, I believe it is much more flexible as well.

If I had not shattered, I would still be made out of glass. This is why I have learned to have no regrets, only gratitude.

Comments

[lasultrix.livejournal.com]

Hey.
I don't think I've commented here in a while... just wanted to touch base. I'm glad to read what you've just written. *hugs*

[nic]

Again, I'm reading echoes of my own life.

I can't tell anyone I love them. Nor do I like touching people. (The only exception is a boyfriend.) So if you don't mind sharing more, how have you learnt to do this? Is it just small steps?

If I had not shattered, I would still be made out of glass. This is why I have learned to have no regrets, only gratitude.

And THIS is so inspirational to read.

[meri-sefket.livejournal.com]

When I was a kid, I was bossy and playful and utterly certain of my own adorability.

Me too, and when it just went up in smoke. Lately, in the last few years, I've been struggling to get back there, with the self-assurance of the adult I am, and a rock-solid foundation. Occasionally, I feel some of it slide away from me, but each time that happens I reevaluate what I'm doing and change what I can.

It's a tough road, but it gets better. And you're right gratitude helps a lot.

[thalia-seawood.livejournal.com]

Very well written. I *really* like this post, it resonates with me.

Miscellaneous

[jic]

My parents tell me that once upon a time I was utterly certain of acceptance from my peers. Dad tells of me running onto public playgrounds, hollering, "Hey kids!" and inviting myself into their games. I don't remember this. I remember organizing the recess games of "Chase" once I started school. (Why we didn't know to call it 'Tag' I have no idea.) I don't remember exactly what changed, because I think it may have started before the Makowski neighbors.

I have a hard time saying "I love you." I say it to my parents, and sometimes I'll throw of a "love ya" that is more a response to someone else than any kind of declaration. But at this point I'm so muddled about the meaning of the phrase toward non-blood, and all its connotations and interpretations, that I'm beyond hesitant to use it in RL.

At any rate, I'm glad to know you. *hugs*

I hate my keyboard. That message brought to you by the letter mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

[butterfly.livejournal.com]

Hey!

It's always good to hear from you. And thank you.

*hugs back*

[butterfly.livejournal.com]

I can't tell anyone I love them. Nor do I like touching people. (The only exception is a boyfriend.) So if you don't mind sharing more, how have you learnt to do this? Is it just small steps?

Slowly. My roommate is a big part of the reason why I'm better at touching people. There's a comfort level there. It didn't appear all at once, but I remember slowly going from tensing up when she hugged me to being able to hug her first. Part of it was undoing the lesson my father taught me -- objects aren't needed to get affection (my dad was constantly buying us stuff or showing us stuff to make up for things).

Time and a willingness to feel a little bit uncomfortable at first, I think.

If I had not shattered, I would still be made out of glass. This is why I have learned to have no regrets, only gratitude.

And THIS is so inspirational to read.

Thank you.

[butterfly.livejournal.com]

Occasionally, I feel some of it slide away from me, but each time that happens I reevaluate what I'm doing and change what I can.

*nods*

That helps a lot. That's the big difference between my dad and me, I think. He's not willing to self-reflect and ever admit that maybe he could be doing something different, so he's caught in the same place he was fifteen years ago.

[butterfly.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

Re: Miscellaneous

[butterfly.livejournal.com]

I'm glad to know you, too.

*hugs*

And... I do love you. I mean, you're right after my brother in my speed-dial sequence. I really do feel that you've given me so much, and I am intensely grateful that I know you. Intensely. You're the best friend that I've ever had.

And now I feel hopelessly sappy, so I'll stop there.

speed-dial

[jic]

*g* I only have you and my babysitter on speed-dial right now - and you're first.

I keep being surprised by the very different ways we view the world, but that's often a good thing. You open my eyes to people and friendship and love where before I only saw convenience and manipulation.

So, thanks. Keep it up, because I'm not in the habit yet. And I'm not looking forward to a time when you aren't close by.