What would Jane Austen Grow?

My husband is away on business and I miss him!  In that simple sentence is concealed a vast array of emotions, truths and untruths.  So many that is it is hard to comprehend.  Fact, my husband is away.  He is in Orlando Florida.  Fact, he is there on business.  At least I believed him when he told me it is business.  I trust him, so I didn’t call his work to verify it.  Do I need to check up on him?  I trust him, after all.  He is honest.  At least I think he is honest.  Truthfully, I do really trust him.  That doesn’t mean I don’t ask questions and I do occassionally interogate him about something or other.  But I don’t worry when he travels.  He worries that I will cheat when I travel.  I really don’t understand that fear.  If you saw a photo of us, you’d understand why it is a mystery to me.  He is handsome, sexy, intelligent and fun.  I am overweight, uptight and can’t imagine anyone being attracted to me.  He says that’s why he worries because if someone did actually come on to me, I might be so swept off my feet that I would cheat.  I think I give off so many “I’m taken, leave me alone” vibes that there’s absolutely zero chance that it could happen.

Fact, I miss him.  This is a loaded statement!  The truth is I do miss him.  I miss his company.  I feel like half of me is gone.  I miss all that he does for me and around the house.  I have to do all that he normally does plus what I normally do.  Granted, because it’s just me and our dog, Tipper, there isn’t quite as much to do.  Tipper adjusts to my schedule and I manage to get her out to fulfill nature’s call without too much stress or any accidents.  I’m no longer preparing a “meal” and the dishes are much fewer.  I only make myself tea about half of the time.  There isn’t any laundry yet.  Truth, I do miss our activities together, our routines.  I am lonely at times.  Untruth, I don’t miss him every minute.  Sometimes it feels like freedom to be able to do my own thing, have my own timing, worry about only myself.  I get up when I want.  I go to bed when I want.  I eat what I want.  I drink what I want.  Oh, he’s never told me I have to do anything.  He is not controlling, demanding.  But he does get his way when it is important to him and I know that he disapproves of my choices at times.  When he is gone, I feel that I have the freedom to read until 11:30 at night.  I don’t worry that I have eaten wheat and sugar for all my meals with only a token vegetable or two.  Granted, if I went more than two days like that, I would feel sick and be craving vegetables.  But when I am “good” I crave bread, sugar and fat.

Truth-I don’t want to lose him, I don’t want to be without him.  I enjoy his company.  I enjoy our life together.  But the other truth that goes along with all of this is that I know if something did happen to us, I would survive.  I don’t want anything to happen.  I will do everything in my power to not let it happen.  But if something did happen, I would survive.  Actually, there is power in that.  And most of all, that power should awaken my true self that in turn will love him even more and make our life together even better.

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I love the character of Bridget Jones because…just like her I can say at least there’s someone worse than me.  At the same time I relate to her foibles, I acknowledge my own weaknesses and I rejoice in her triumphs.  Bridget Jones is every woman.  Although I may not burn every meal, I can certainly relate to her being late to the kids school run-and I don’t even have kids.  How pathetic is that?  I’m often late and the only one I’m responsible for is me.

We are forever comparing ourselves to someone else.  We never measure up.  Maybe it’s just me.  I believe we each have a different ideal against which we compare ourselves.  For some it is Mother Teresa, for others Hilary Clinton, Michelle Obama, Serena Williams and even Kate Moss.  We do not have the same ideal-unless you think about God.  But then again there’s not even universal agreement on that.

So the fact that there is not one universal ideal means that not one of us is inferior.  That’s logical right?  We each say to ourselves, “Oh I wish I could be like___________”  And then I add in (maybe you do too) “but I can’t do this and I really suck at that…”  Hell, I may be smart but I’m no Albert Einstein.  None of us are ever enough.  No matter how well I do, I never feel  like I succeed.  I am never good enough.

And Bridget Jones-what would she say to all of this?  After 2 days of obsessing about not being able to compare to Albert Einstein, she’d say “At least I have my kids.  And we’ve just got to keep buggering on.”  And really, isn’t that what life is about?  We just keep moving ahead.

I’m not sure why my husband loves me.  There’s a lot of women out there who are prettier, skinnier, more outgoing and a whole lot more concerned about housework than me.  I may be able to cook a really good meal but I’m still a slovenly mess maker who finds it harder to verbally communicate my thoughts than make a decision-and it takes me months to make a decision.  But my husband loves me!  And it’s because I let him be him.  That’s the ultimate compliment to a slacker.  Just by doing nothing I got a man to love me!

So I say “Stop the madness”. Embrace your inner Bridget Jones.  None of us are perfect.  Hell, most of us are doing well to get out of bed in the morning!  Be thankful for what you’ve got.  If it degrades you and subjects you to abuse, find a way to leave the situation.  Otherwise, hold your head up high and keep on keeping on.

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I have a weakness. It’s a phobia really, although I hate to admit it. I’m afraid of heights. I have had this fear since I was a child. I believe it stems from falling down a rough staircase at age 2, a scar left behind to prove it happened. In addition, one of my eardrums ruptured from infection at a young age and my ear hasn’t functioned properly since. Except for a brief period of time after an ear doctor inserted an artificial bone. There was a brief period of a year or so when I was able to overcome my fear of heights. I thought I had conquered my fear!

I remember that feeling of victory and this gets me in trouble. I think I will no longer let my fear rule me, so I complacently try something like driving with my husband, step-daughter, her husband and our granddaughter to the top of Pike’s Peak. I only made it a mile from the entry fee kiosk before I was in sheer panic mode. They had to turn around and drop me off.  I spent time at an amusement park while the rest of the group made it to the top.  Somehow it didn’t make me feel better when they said even they were scared when the got to the top.  This scenario plays out repeatedly.  Some of the highlights are The Road to the Sun, Haleakala Crater, Diamond Head, numerous lighthouses and hwy 1 in Northern California. Each attempt ends in the inability to move another step and tears! Or screaming,  depending on the severity and whether I have been smart enough to take my anti-anxiety medication. Imagine pressing yourself against a rock wall halfway up Diamond Head and all these people pass you by.  They either look at me like I have a problem or they stop and ask if I’m alright.  These hikers are very young and very old.  Some even wear flipflops.  Why are they able to make it to the top and I’m not?  It’s not like I’m rappelling off the Matterhorn!

I have come to the conclusion that I need to accept this and arrange my life around this. I think a lot of people just pass on the option to hike Diamond Head.  They know their limits or they’re just not interested.  But it still seems like a defeat. I should be able to master my body, my psyche.  I feel imperfect, inadequate, a wimp.  I feel undisciplined, a slob.  And yet, wouldn’t it just be simpler to not make the attempt when the outcome is defeat.  So my question to you is: Which is braver-to keep trying when change seems impossible or to accept my limitations and move on?

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