Allow Me to Explain

It was becoming my life’s motto. Allow me to explain why I don’t follow the career I want. Allow me to explain why I can’t afford to travel. Allow me to explain why I can’t go out with you to dinner. Allow me to explain why my shoes have holes and my pantry is empty and my bills are overdue. Sometimes there isn’t really an explanation it’s just a stall tactic to buy me some thinking time before the pity wave washed over me like warm piss. Often times, no one is judging me at all. In my mind, though, I read things that don’t exist. Every mouth twitch, every time someone looks away. I read into it what I secretly fear.

In truth, I shouldn’t have to explain any part of my life to anyone, including myself. I shouldn’t need to defend that I work sometimes 60 hours a week and still can’t pay my bills. I shouldn’t have to explain that while my life is not what I expected it doesn’t mean it’s not fulfilling. I don’t make a career with writing, like I always dreamed I would. I can’t afford the high quality products I want and in some cases need for health reasons. I work two jobs that are not fulfilling. My body is not physically where I’d like to see it. My diet is on occasion an oral exam on chemical warfare. My husband and I will probably not be able to have children. My home is in an almost constant state of half-done chores. There’s always dishes in the sink, piles of laundry, dirty carpeting, cobwebs, pet hair tumbleweeds, a ring around the tub. I mean really, I can continue.

At the end of the day, I’m still happy. Despite my bitching, my “first world problems,” my  menial complaints. I’m happy because I suck breath in and out. I have a loving husband. I have my ridiculous pets. I have my exercise keeping me sane. I have a house to go home to. I have friends who check in on me. I have a car almost fully paid off. I have a family.

If you are living the life you’ve always wanted, congratulations not everyone works hard enough to do so. I know I didn’t. I am scared of risks. I am scared of no safety nets. I am terrified of life a bit I suppose. I’m a person with an irrational fear of birds and doorknobs. I’m a person who builds ants to monsters in her mind. I’m a mad scientist with fears. Yes, I could abandon my ship and work hard to live the life I think I’m destined. Life is what you make of it. I’m happy where I am. I will always strive to be better. I will perpetually make excuses that never need to be uttered. Perhaps someday I will look at my successful, smart friends without envy but as equals. People work hard for their lives. They do all they can for what they have etched out in hard work, risks, dreams and love.

Let me explain why I’m okay. Let me explain why I love to laugh. Let me explain how much I love the sun. Let me explain why I’m great.

Being the Brown Sheep

I’m an Arciero girl. To you, that means nothing. In my family, it's like a scarlet A. I'm not the black sheep of my sisters, not by a long shot. In all actuality, I'm not convinced any of the Arciero girls are even a white sheep. Maybe Nani. Probably Nani. It's Nani. I'm the brown sheep. Maybe I'm spotted. Maybe I'm a swirl. Either way, odds are stacked up against me. I was a horrible teen who made a lot of mistakes. I pulled away from all forms of religion. I lost my mother, I had a miscarriage, a drug addiction, I got married at 18 and I put all of this dirty laundry out over the interwebs. I'm easily visible to my family. I'm easily accessible and I'm very easily judged.

I take this with a grain of salt. I’m not willing to pull back on my writing, my “public-ness.” I'm not willing to change who I am to appeal to my family. I’m not Catholic. I curse a lot. I struggle. I complain. I've done horrible things in my past. Family sometimes doesn't hear the last three words of that last sentence. IN MY PAST.  My past is not who I am. It shaped me, it guided me but it doesn't dictate the person I am today. My life experiences were hard. I was scared, unsure, confused, lost.  I was lost. I made decisions based on passion and random actions. I WAS A TEENAGER. Yes, I got married at 18 but it allowed me a lot of insight and it helped me refocus my life. I graduated from college with an associate's and a bachelor's degree. I graduated magna cum laude. I’m the only Arciero girl to move off the island of Oahu. I'm the only Arciero girl who tries her best not to ask her dad for money (he’s buying me a plane ticket home for Thanksgiving). I’m trying my best. I do what I can and I am a good person. I’m a caring person. I’m a loving person.

The trail of lives I've touched ALL OVER THE UNITED STATES shows me, and no one else, that I am good because these people are good. I hold my friends a lot closer than some of my family. I am extremely close to some of my family members and I am grateful for that. For the ones who judge me on my past and not my efforts for my future, they aren't taking the time to know me. To understand me. To allow me to make mistakes. To see why I am public, why I need to hammer these words out on a keyboard. I love my family unconditionally but I love myself more. If you have issues with my life, my beliefs, my actions or reactions: talk to me privately or better yet don’t tell me. Those issues are yours I have my own issues and my family shouldn't be one of them. I make my dad proud. I make my Tutu (grandmother) proud. I love my baby sister deeply. Their views of me are the only ones that concern me. 

All I am is a reflection of the lives I've entwined. I’m a tree, growing near a calm lake. There are storms. There is rain. There are droughts. There is sunshine. My branches grow far. I've got vines, bird nests, even a spot in my chest for squirrels. I'm taking in the bad and trying to put out the good. I've worked hard to grow this tall. I won’t be cut down. I'm an Arciero girl. 

My Tutu is 92 in this picture. 

So Be It

Thank you all for the love, encouragement and support with my “The Smaller Version of Me” post. However, the bottom line is it doesn't matter how you see me; it matters how I see me. That post was not intended to show me sitting on the end of a dock, with a bucket of worms and throwing a lure into the waters of the Internet. It was me, being honest with me.

I've accepted I will probably not get below 185. I’m okay with it. I've given up hope on it. In the grand scheme of life that is not the number that matters. It doesn't mean I’m going to diminish my physical activities. It doesn't mean I’ll stop my work out routine. It doesn't mean I won’t try new things in the future.  

I am no longer looking for ways to “lose weight” or “trick my body” or become someone I’m not. This is what my body wants this is what my body gets. I have far too many other things stressing me out than the number on the scale. I’m going to throw out the scale. Screw the scale. That being said I’m not accepting advice on products or what might work. I don’t care if it does work. I've accepted myself; given me some much needed TLC and mirror pep talks. I've accepted my little beer belly, my cellulite thighs, my somewhat jiggly arms and in fact admire them. They’re me. A part of me that I may never change and that is okay. I’m done trying. I've been this weight and this shape for a year. It’s done. I’m moving past it.

All that being said I follow several blogs/women on ye olde Facebook – “This is Not a Diet - it's your life.” She lost 124 pounds – no pills, rules, plans, shots, surgery or supplements and has kept the weight off for 3 years. “Go Kaleo” She lost 80 pounds and is now a personal trainer and a nutrition and weight management coach. “Fit Mama Training” She lost a total of 90 pounds and grew with her body to love and nourish it. These ladies are great and inspirational and honest. However they all have weight loss stories.  Not everyone (read: ME) has a happy weight loss story that has catalyzed their healthy life and body acceptance. So what about the rest of us? I know I’m not as famous as these women but I've toyed with the idea of creating a Facebook page for the rest of us.

What that means is there are a lot of frustrated women who can’t lose weight for whatever various reasons. While the women above offer great advice about loving and accepting your body, their bodies have gone through massive changes. It’s hard for some of us to take that advice when the scale hasn't budged in a year. I want to create a safe haven where people can vent about whatever their health issues or weight issues or food issues are and vent to someone who’s stuck like them versus someone who has lost basically their unborn twin that was living inside of them. I have a special diet for medical reasons it would be a place for anyone to share recipes for their particular special diets, share motivational images or ideas or just to say “hey, I walked a mile today, haven’t done that in a while.” I love following those 3 women but I have no weight loss story and yet I’m inspired by myself. I think I’ll take a poll on whether you think I should do this or if it will just be another page lost in the hogwash of Facebook.  If you've made it this far, respond via comments on here or Facebook or even MFP. Once again thank all of you for the support, love and advice but I've accepted myself you should too. 

The Smaller Version of Me

There is no smaller version of me. Today I admit that I am what I am and that’s all that I am or will ever be. Given my recent months of pure insanity I've decided that I need to stop chasing some unattainable smaller version of myself. It was a nice focal point to get me through some hard times. I always felt my weight was the one thing I could control. At a time in my life where I had NO control, it was a nice thought that if nothing else I could change my outer appearance to the strong woman I know is on the inside.  Some bodies are just not meant to change no matter what you think. Even when I had a personal trainer he told me: You have to work with what you are given. You can’t compare yourself to anyone. I’m relatively healthy at this point. Yes. Right now my stomach feels like I swallowed a bowling ball and it hurts to take deep breaths but that’s because this past weekend I went against all reasoning and ate all the things my doctor told me not to.

I've tried to lose weight for nearly 2 years. I've really made no great weight loss and maintained it. I started at 195 in Jan 2012. When I was running an insane amount I got down to 169 in July 2012. Since then the weight slowly crept back up to 185 within the year. Why? No real answers there. Speculation? Sure, I had to stop running because of my knees. We moved to California where both of us aren't making enough for me to buy groceries on anything but a credit card with the hope that on my next paycheck I’ll be able to pay off the groceries. My job is a joke. Our new dog, Princess Vespa, refuses to be house broken, and chews up my underwear, shoes, the garbage or anything she can get her mouth on plus she has been sick pretty much monthly, hooray vet bills. Tim is unhappy with his choice of employment. Neither one of us is happy with the move. I've been diagnosed with PCOS while we try to start a family. I've also been diagnosed with overly producing yeast so a sever shift in my diet has taken place (gone are the days of carefree eating). What does this all add up to? An overproduction of worry and a buildup of STRESS.

What feeds stress? More stress and worry so instead of trying to shove myself into the smaller version of me with the hopes that it will happen I’m just going to come out of the box. Stop stressing on my looks. I work very hard at my job, diet and exercise. I do Pilates 3 days a week, kickboxing 2 days a week, I walk the dogs about 5 hours a week, do strength training 2-3 days a week for a minimum of an hour and occasionally throw in a spinning class here or there. As far as my physical health goes there's really nothing more I can do. I'm tired of poking myself with sticks and fighting the inevitable. After almost a year of being the same weight even through diet shifts, exercise routine shifts and every other type of shift you can imagine, I'm done trying.

I yam what I yam and that’s all that I yam.

P.S. People have suggested seeing another doctor. Financially right now that is not a possibility. The doctor who diagnosed my PCOS gave me a copy of all my blood work. I've had 2 sets of blood work done in the past month I have no hormone, thyroid or vitamin D issues.  Regardless of getting a second opinion my blood test results will not change. 

I AM A PERSON

Often times, I feel because I hold no religion I am overlooked, not heard and especially disregarded. It’s as though my views, morals and beliefs are easily dismissed simply because I do not follow God, Christ, Buddha, Allah, the Flying Spaghetti Monster or any other form of religion. I have been told because I have no religion, that my moral compass is corrupt, my children will be raised wild and (oddly enough) I worship Satan. First things first, if I worshiped Satan that would be a religion and it would be a religion based on the bible.

Here is the thing about me: I hold no religion but I do have faith, morals and beliefs. I have faith in myself and the goodness I give and hope to receive from others. I believe that we should do onto others and we would have them do onto ourselves. I was raised catholic and while my faith and beliefs may be rooted in that my branches have grown far from it. I am not a kind person to please some unseen entity. I am a kind, caring and loving person because I believe the good you send out will come back. I am the person I am to be a good person, not to be rewarded or receive enlightenment. I give penance for any of my wrong actions and I am always quick to apologize for my short temper, short comings or short jokes. I say “Thank You,” “Please,” and “You’re Welcome” as often as I say hello.  

I believe every person deserves love and respect and a second chance. I believe in equal rights, equal pay and being allowed to do with your body what you wish. I have studied many religions and read the bible cover to cover several times. I often believe sometimes it takes more strength to follow something bigger than oneself. However, when that following leads to bigotry, sexism, exclusion and hate. I simply can’t believe that is the path chosen by your higher entity or one that I will ever personally take.

I am no moral judge and juror, no one should be. I don’t care what you do within the law. Drink a big gulp of soda, order a big mac, stockpile guns, worship your entity, and declare your love in public. You are entitled to do what makes you happy and I will never deny someone the right to be happy even if I don’t agree with it. All of this being said everything is a two way street. I will never judge you but I know others judge me for my lack of religion, my tattoos heck even using birth control and while I know I am judged I know I also can’t change someone’s mind about me. Someone who judges is someone who will stick to their original judgment, this much I know. Because I can’t change their mind, I don’t fight it or them. I let go and let love. Why waste the energy trying to change someone’s stubborn mind.

If you engage me I will talk and I will defend my beliefs, my morals and my faith just as any person with a religion would do. I am no different from someone with religion. We are all people trying to figure out our purpose and trying to survive.

For those who have expressed concern about raising a child without religion I want to assure you they will have faith. Faith that people (though rarely these days) all carry the seed of good. They will not hold hatred in their hearts. They will not see people as colors or gay or straight or male or female. They will, like me, know and understand that people are people no matter where you are and that being kind is a virtue, not chore. They will learn to be accepting of everyone and to listen and accept all religions. They will be citizens of the soul. My children (if I have any) will be sweet and loving and willing to help anyone and everyone just as I am. They will not be afraid to stand up for what they believe and what they think is right and while they are free to choose a religion of their own it will be their choice because religion is a personal choice and no one should be tried and hanged for any personal choice.

Your Face and Food

Low carb, high protein, no sugar, Paleo, Atkins, shakes, juice, cleanse, percentages … I feel like it’s all such crap. I mean whatever works for your body and you’re willing to maintain long term (meaning until you’re old and wrinkled) then have at it. I know my body and my body rebels against me and pretty much hates everything I try to do to it. That being said, any type of restrictive diet and I don’t work. Okay, THAT being said I have a restrictive diet for medical reasons thanks to my super sensitive stomach. I can’t eat red meat (unless it’s crazy lean, as in as lean as it could ever possibly be. That cow ran marathons in the hills of someplace sunny and had a name), can’t eat mayonnaise, dried apricots, acidic tomatoes, cherries (yeah I still eat them and suffer) and there’s more I just can’t remember right now. Most of these are what I call gut punchers. For me if I eat too much I end up in the bathroom for a good chunk of the day (3-6 hours), in pain. The dried Apricots make my throat close so that’s always fun.   

All of THAT being said, my “diet” is called balance and moderation. Boom! I waved my magic wand and will now lose weight. Ha! But seriously it took me a long time to find what worked for me and I can proudly say I don’t care. If I never get to my “goal weight,” I don’t care. If I plateau and feel my workouts are in vain, I don’t care. If I could possibly be a little bit healthier, I don't care. The reason I stopped caring? If you’re going to try to make me do math or take away my bread I will cut you. I bet there are a lot of things I could do to my diet to make it so that I lose more weight or am slightly healthier but you know what? I don’t care. I try to eat mostly veggies and fruit with some lean proteins (egg whites, chicken breast, lean ground beef and center cut pork loins with the occasional bacon thrown in there), whole wheat or fiber rich breads and pastas and of course white rice that I mix with brown and while I'm not the thinnest I've ever been in my life (18-20 year old Leila was Hot) or as tone, etc, etc. I don't care. I don’t believe my body can’t process the food I’m giving it. Want to know why? Because I have very few stomach issues (aside from where I get sick off cherries) and I poop regularly. Poop is important. I don’t care who you think you are that you’re above poop but you’re not. If you’re not pooping at least once a day, something might be wrong. I don’t know what might be wrong but you should be pooping and it shouldn’t be painful or liquid or weird. If you have a dog and you pick up their poop, don’t tell me you don’t know if something is or isn’t wrong with your dog by their poop. When it’s a weird color, not solid at all, painful or bloody you get concerned right? You should probably do the same for yourself. My dog, like his owner, has a sensitive stomach. He can’t have red meat or pineapples (though he loves them). I can tell when someone (usually me) has been sneaking him restrictive food because his poop is weird and painful. You’ll be happy to know, I poop fine.

Now that I have completely grossed out anyone actually reading this allow me to say: our bodies are wonderlands (ha ha ha). No but they are they are unique, amazing, complex, awe inspiring things no matter what shape or size or color. Find your balance, find what works for you and cling to that for dear life. Make sure it’s something you can maintain until you have more wrinkles than cells in your body (ha!) and don’t listen to the nay sayers, the haters, the advice givers, etc. etc. Unless your DOCTOR tells you you’re allergic or your health needs help, DO NOT GOOGLE DIETING TIPS OFF THE INTERNET or let your friends dictate your diet. What works for them may not work for you. My Tutu (grandmother) has lived her entire life (92 years) off pretty much fresh fruit, meat, rice, coffee, fat and white wine. If you cut the fat off your steak or take the skin off your chicken, Tutu will eat it. My tutu got a hip replaced when she was 90 and isn't wheelchair bound by any sense of the word. She’s only recently shrunk down to 5’8” and I feel like if anyone tried to take away any of her key foods, her health would suffer. Listen to your bodies, work with your bodies, not against them and don’t let your brain do all the talking (Do I really want that hamburger which I know will cause my stomach to explode or am I even really hungry?). Accept your body, listen to it, love it and moving it around a bit doesn't hurt either but don’t take it from me take it from you.  

A Day

I feel it is okay to have a day. Whether it’s a day to yourself or to be sad, happy, to reconnect with nature, to eat a pint of ice cream, to sleep, to drink till you forget, the list continues. It’s okay to have a day. Don’t beat yourself up. Don’t regret your day; don’t be upset that you had it.

I am many things – Awesome, fragile, loving, supportive, petty, funny, smart, stupid, beautiful, etc., etc. I’m not one thing. I am a writer simply because it’s in my heart. Do I get published or even write much anymore, nope. Would I like to, yep but I’m not going to be upset with myself because of my time restrictions or lack of motivation. I can’t be mad at me all the time. Recently it’s been drawn to my attention that I am apparently a photographer too, though I am very, very hesitant to say that. I know many photographers and I by no means can compete with them but I am selling prints of my scenery so I guess I have to accept that I am what I am and that’s all that I am. I am a hula dancer. This I can say confidently. I’ve dance with 3 halaus and 1 group spanning 14 years. I am not a kumu, I would like to be someday, though. I’m just a little brown girl in a little grass skirt in love with my culture, my heritage and the graceful beauty that is hula dancing. I am a runner. No explanation needed, I hope. It took many people to make me realize what I am, what I have the potential to be and what I need to appreciate about myself.

My day today is a pitiful one. My husband and I just moved to California from Washington leaving behind, for me friendships that I cannot replace. Today he leaves for a 2-day trip. I’m alone with my dog in a house full of boxes. I miss my friends, my Washington sunrises, my husband and my crafts. There is the crushing weight of defeat pressing down on me today. This move was stressful our stuff got thrashed in the move, our financial situation is nonexistent, my job got reformed and I was fearing I’d lose it, there was a lot that went into this move. To top it off the move made running sort of null and void for a while and I find myself starting from scratch. Slowly building up my endurance again. My wrist and left hip are both damaged. Hula dancing is on the back burner as is photography. Writing has been on the back burner since 2006.

I feel off track, disassembled, lost. I’m allowing these feelings. I’m letting them happen. I’m letting them wash over me. I’m allowing all the fear, guilt, sadness and pain soak in through my skin. I’m giving myself this day because I know tomorrow is a new day. One where if I need to I will list the benefits of this move. Life is interesting it pulls a lot of magic tricks, a lot of suspense, a lot of pit falls. Give yourself a day to appreciate what you are truly feeling. Let it be one day, then wash that day right out of your hair and send it down the drain.

Something I wrote (somewhat) recently:

Other People

One of my favorite Photos I've ever taken:

Weight Loss & I

We are not two peas in a pod, we are not like-minded, we don’t even eat at the same restaurants. However, if weight loss & I were to have a relationship status on Facebook it’d be “It’s complicated.” I’ve always been the “big” girl in my family and among my friends. I lost weight once, 35 pounds totally gone I looked awesome but I gained it all back so now I’m on the road again.  

In January of this year, looking in the mirror I would comment Wow, look at that Buddha belly or Holy moon face, Batman! I also noticed I was rundown, burned out, tired and a glutton. I ate everything and anything because “why not?” That is the lamest excuse ever. That’s like saying well, all my friends jumped off the bridge “why not?” I was fed up with myself, my image, my lameness. All of it. All of it had to go.

Initially weight loss was the goal, the one and only goal and apparently there could only be one. As I started changing my diet and exercising more I kept having these little personal victories pop up like ethereal text messages. You just ran 3 miles. You have been able to sustain a nutritious 1,200 calorie-day and still be full. None of it was overnight it took me 3 months to watch what I put in my mouth and bring my calories down to 1,200. It took me the same amount of time to get up to a 3-mile continuous run. 

Healthy eating quickly became another goal. Making better food choices, paying attention to what I put in my mouth were very important. I wanted this because I figured out my body responds better when it’s got good food in it. Lean meats, veggies and a truckload of fruit make me smile physically and mentally way more than Jack-in-the-Box. Then came exercise. I got addicted to the rush. I love my runners high. I love feeling my strength grow. Now, weight loss is kind of in the backseat. It’s still trying to be a backseat driver but I’m more focused on how great eating and exercising makes me feel and I believe weight loss will come eventually and if it doesn’t hey, that’s okay.

However, that desire, that want to lose weight never fully goes away. I could be blissfully entertaining “eating healthy” and “exercising more” in my home when the doorbell rings and who’s there? Weight Loss with a box, trying to sell me stuff I don’t need. Trying to get me to pay more attention, to eat more or eat less, to do math equations, eat less carbs, bring in science, make a spreadsheet, measure things. It’s trying all the schemes. It’s bringing in all my friends. So-and-so lost weight this way however this person did it this way. Weight loss comes to your door backed with endorsements. It’s a pyramid scheme. Once you buy into it you’ll start enlisting your friends to how THEY should be losing weight. The next thing you know you’re the one with a box, knocking on your friend’s door, interrupting their healthy dinners telling them about all the fine things they should be doing to lose weight.

I’ve decided to put a stop to that for myself. I’ve lost 20 pounds. Would I like to lose more? Sure. It wasn’t easy to lose the 20 pounds I lost but in losing that weight it opened me up to much better things. Exercise and healthy eating those are things I will maintain for the rest of my life, not because I want to lose weight but because I WANT to feel good, I want to feel confident; I want to live a long life. Losing weight is not a forever mission. You can’t spend your entire life losing weight. What you can do is spend your life maintaining a healthy and exuberant lifestyle.

What works for you might not work for me and vice versa if your main mission is to lose weight like mine was, then good luck but know that once you lose the weight it will come down to maintenance so you don’t gain it back. Are you going to measure out your foods for the rest of your life? Are you going to reject your child’s birthday cake in front of their smiling faces because it’s too many carbs? Are you going to abstain from enjoying in eating? If yes, then I wish you the best. If you envision a lifetime of limiting yourself or using math and science as your tools, good for you, go for what makes you happy and what gives you the results you want.

Personally, I’ve found my tastes have simply changed. Instead of chips I crave baby carrots, I turned my breads and pasta to whole grain and they’re so much more filling. My meats are lean, like my muscles. I understand my change will not be the same change for anyone else who started on a weight loss mission and found themselves smack dab in the middle of fitness-burbia or a nutrition wasteland. I will no longer start a sentence with “What I did to lose weight was …” or “what worked for me was…” instead unless you want my honest advice, I’ll just LISTEN. That’s what people who are struggling need. Someone to JUST listen.

There are a lot of paths, a lot of routes and A LOT of unsolicited advice (knock, knock) from EVERYONE you know. Here’s what you do – put on your headphones, tune everyone out and do what works best for you in regards to losing weight, eating better and exercising more. Find your own groove and revel in the fact that once you find it you’ll never have to worry about getting your groove back.

What is Love?

After meeting Tim, I’ve come to analyze love. Not only because people asked me constantly about our “story” and how we “knew,” but because I like to analyze things and break it down. What I’ve come to realize is my definition of the big L word. My definition and even ways to maintain it. This isn’t my first time at the poker table, but how did I know Tim and I were each other’s “ones?” Read Below.

Definition: Love is exposing yourself to someone, with all your daily habits, eccentrics, weirdness and flaws and having one person who loves and appreciates every part of you.

A Couple of Weirdoes

I am an odd mixture of nerves, delights, craziness, happiness, optimism, fears, and clumsiness (just to name a few) all combined into a carbonated beverage and someone’s shook the bottle. I am excited over small things, dance in supermarkets, make up songs about my dog and food and am terrified of birds (just to name a few). I have several laughs, I am loud, talkative, outspoken and at times barbaric, my husband loves me for all of these reasons.

Life would be boring if it weren’t weird. My husband not only accepts all the random parts that make up a full Leila, but he appreciates it. He doesn’t love me (only) for my looks or my superficial qualities, he doesn’t love me (only) because I laugh at all his jokes and he doesn’t love me (only) because I take care of him. He loves all of me and he revels in my eccentrics and me in his. 

This also puts us totally at ease with one another, which means common bodily functions, expressive language and mannerisms are all taken and accepted.  Basically, we don’t have to pretend or hide any part of ourselves from one another.

Getting Down and Dirty

If you can’t tell your partner that they’ve got something in their teeth, scratch their back or clean up their puke after a long night of adventures, then you haven’t taken down all the relationship walls yet.

For instance, Tim had surgery not long after we started living together. It was in a sensitive spot one most people wouldn’t want anyone paying attention to nor would anyone want to actually be around that part of someone’s body for long periods of time. I didn’t think twice about cleaning the stitches, attending to the wounds and replacing bandages. Everyone told me “well, it must be love.” Well, duh. Being able to still be so enamored and happy to be with someone whom you just wiped drool or snot away from their face, says a lot.

In return, Tim has had to endure some horrific situations with me and my fickle stomach.  If you can still smile and kiss a person who just spent 4 hours in the bathroom with what sounded like explosions being the only noise making it through the door, guess what? You’re pretty comfortable with one another.  And odds are you won’t get grossed out with the daily grinds of living in the same space.

Love Obsession

I love Tim. I love him so much that every event I plan, I plan with Tim in mind. I am obsessed with Tim. I know what he likes, I know what he doesn’t like. I can read what mood he’s in and what he’ll want for dinner.  I love having pictures of Tim and I and I love to look at pictures of Tim and me.

There is this crazy need to always have Tim in the back of my mind. It’s wonderful. I’ve never been with someone I’ve wanted to spend so much time with. There is a thin line however between love obsession and actual obsession. I do not stalk Tim, read his emails, go through his phone or have to contact him constantly during the day. When I get home I require a kiss and some cuddling before bed but knowing where the guy is 24/7 is way too distracting for those of us with a life.

Having a Life

Obsession is fun but separation has it perks too. So that we don’t become bored or irritated with one another, I have always thought it was important to have separate hobbies that take you away from one another. I love Tim I want to spend time with him, but I do not want to learn Brazilian Jujitsu. Sorry, we don’t have to have everything in common. I love to run, Tim hates to sweat without a purpose.

In addition to our difference on exercise, I like to dance hula and I don’t think that is a passion for Tim.  We also like different comic books, have different passions and attend different events. Being together all the time can be exhausting. You have no fun stories to tell that don’t get cut short with “I was there.” So Tim plays poker with work people and I have game nights with my coworkers.  Having circles of friends that you can hang out with together or separately is fantastic. If Tim doesn’t want to go shoe shopping (because that’s high on a man’s priority list) then I have a back-up.

I enjoy our time apart because it makes our time together that much better.  Am I sad if he goes away on even an overnight trip? Yes. Because I’m obsessed with him.  Is it going to be the death of me? No.

Free Thinkers

Tim and I don’t see eye-to-eye on everything. I love that. We can have debates without getting hot headed, we can have different viewpoints and talk about it. We can even outright say we don’t like something the other one does and it’s okay. I hate the band Kittie, Tim does not. Tim loves the comic book DMZ, I do not.

We both like a lot of the same things – movies, some comic books, authors, video games, etc but the things we differ on aren’t a means to an end. He likes vampires, I like zombies. They are both horror film icons but we aren’t going to argue their fundamentals and why the other person should like this. I can say I think Tim would look handsome in argyle sweater vests and he can, in turn, laugh in my face. I’m not going to push the issue.  If one of us likes something we don’t force fed it to the other one.

I’m a fan of growing and changing but all in due time.

So that’s it. I love Tim and I love him because we have the above type of connection. I knew Tim was for me because from the minute we met I was obsessed and couldn’t stop thinking about him. We’ve spent our relationship exploring one another’s flaws, weaknesses, fears, oddities and have only grown into a deeper love and appreciation. If they try to change you, rip you down, control your life or are in anyway abusive, that ain’t love, get out.