Love-phobic

Love. It’s a sticky subject to say the least, It encompasses so much of our being from the time we’re born and bond with our parents to that first friendship to that first crush that truly teaches us what the word “crushed” means. It’s a scary prospect, love. This week, I’ve learned that for me, it’s a lot more scary than I ever realized.

No. I’m not talking about a stalker situation, though that’s a whole category that deserves discussion as love gone wrong, though I’m not sure you can categorize it as love. It’s obsession and power. I’m talking about the vulnerable side of us that we hide away from everyone except those that we deem worthy.  It’s a giving of our whole self to someone. It requires that the other person will treat that raw. squishy bit of us with care. Like the Ood holding it’s own brain in it’s hand, we’re required to trust completely.

For as long as I can remember I’ve searched for it, longed for it, dreamed of the day I’d find the one and live happily ever after with my partner in crime. From Wuthering Heights to Brief Encounter to Dracula I’ve dremed of how it could be and wished for it. (A highly romanticized view of it, anyway) While doing some deep soul searching lately and trying to figure out why it is that I have such trouble relating to people and being myself apart from my shy persona, I’ve had a kind of huge realization. I’ve been looking forever for someone to love and accept me. It feels like a lifetime of disappointing encounter after disappointing encounter where that trust I spoke of was broken and that word “crushed” came up in reference to my heart. The big revelation is a bit of a surprise to me.

I’m the problem. I’ve always been the problem.

When I look back at the way I’ve been, it’s always been me that’s pulled away. This week I finally figured out why. A memory came up that showed me just how wounded I was and a big reason not to trust people with my exposed heart. It was something that happened when I was probably five or six, a best friendship gone wrong, which has had lasting tentacles. I can see it’s effects through all of my relationships telling me that people aren’t safe. People disappoint. People hurt. Unconsciously I’ve repeated this pattern over and over again and proved myself right.

When I realized this, I had a lot of anxiety, which showed me that I was on the right track. All the over-excitement when someone showed any interest in me was actually anxiety…fear. The last time I went on a date, I had to take a sedative to breathe, I was so anxious. That should have been a clue. My extra weight…a wall to keep interest away. Even my silence and shyness, not being myself in front of people, not showing them who I am, is a wall to keep people from getting too close or from seeing the real me; to keep them from rejecting me and making me feel bad or, God forbid, liking me and down the road, making me feel worse with a bigger rejection,

It feels almost silly finding out that you’re afraid of love. Heartache is so much easier. I know how to do that and really well. I’m used to that, but being open, really vulnerable to somebody, that’s terrifying. Now, that’s not to say that I still wouldn’t love to experience it before the end of the world, it just appears that I have a lot of work to do before I can. What a weird day.

WM

 

Vegas Baby

 There’s no denying that I’ve had my share of heartache, especially over the past year. Relationships are my sore spot, since I have all sorts of anxieties around bonding with people and the constant fear of abandonment that comes with my particular diagnosis. During those dark moments when I’m obsessing over what went wrong between DG and myself, (or any of my exes and myself) I’ve turned to one source over and over again…Miss Mandy Hale aka The Single Woman.

I can’t even remember what it was that brought her to my attention. It may have been a book sale or a recommendation when I was looking up dating advice or how to survive when you go from the it girl to the avoided girl. I remember reading her Guide to Letting Go and Moving on and being thoroughly uplifted, which, believe me kids, is a hard feat to pull off. I’d never had such to-the-point, heartfelt advice that stayed with me. I swear I could have taken several of her quotes and pasted them on my bathroom mirror to recite in the morning as mantras.

After that, like a sign from the heavens, I came across her 30 Day Blogging Challenge and that was a revelation. Taking on the Single Woman’s daily questions not only opened me up from the little ball of pain I was and got me thinking and challenging the relationship I was stagnating in, but it got me writing too, and from a hopeful place. (Also, not an easy thing to pull off). I’m not one to tout other people’s stuff, but so far, not only has her new book, I’ve Never Been to Vegas, But my Luggage Has, already given me a quote to hang on the bathroom mirror, (“When you stop blooming where you’ve been planted, it’s time to put down new roots.”) but it’s given me something incredibly close to my own experience to relate to. Her account of going through panic attacks and deep depression, both of which I’m currently starting to heal from myself, have my agnostic brain calling this book a blessing. Yeah, I said it…

I’m in the midst of a marathon read in the hopes that it will bring me the same uplifting push towards self-confidence that her other books have (I read her other books in one day flat). When you’re circling a drain, synchronicities are much appreciated. I’m open to the possibility, and so far whenever I need a good kick in the pants and a shot of belief in myself, her words are put in my path like an elixir. She has an incredible talent for being both inspirational and concise.

Though I’m not quite at the end, I’m getting that no matter the slings and arrows (or lousy relationships), we all have a path to walk. That path may not be what we thought it was going to be, but the detours are marked if we care to look, each one a lesson. We can end up in an entirely different place than we imagine, but after our hissy fits and self-deceptions, we find that can be a better place, a more rewarding place, and beyond anything we thought we wanted. For the first time in a long time, I feel lit up with hope that I can find my own overgrown trail to walk toward my destination. I’m grateful, hopeful, and full of it. It’s wonderful to have the tools to create your own upswing, and this new book has definitely been one of them for me. Inspiring stories do that for you. I can only hope one day to have my own to bless people with. Until then, I’m going to keep reading and keep watching for those exit signs.

Be Ok

Valentine’s Day. For years the very words evoked an eruption of vitriol from me that would rival that of a Vesuvius style explosion. A venomous tirade would usually take written form at some point during the day.

I’ve always hated it. Always.

My usual M.O. is to dress all in black (not unusual anyway, but I made a point of it on this day to counter-act all the pink), smoke my now outlawed clove cigarettes (which were also black), and mutter angrily. I have an array of snarky anti-valentine buttons. It’s an event.  Bitter much? You think?

This year I’ve been feeling ok. I’ve been somewhat enjoying being with myself and accepting that as a thing. That whole idea that I have to be fine by myself first has sunk in and as things have been passing by without any kind of reaction from me, I’ve been thinking perhaps this year would pass without incident. I’ve seen the displays of pink bears and heart-shaped boxes, seen people perusing the flowers, heard the commercials on the radio, displays of television jewelry, and sort of just went “Meh”. Better yet, a few times I’ve sort of thought to myself, “Well, that’s nice”. (What the ?!?!) 

All of that is a good sign…as in, I’m over it. It’s good to be over anger. It’s good to be over bitter. It’s not an attractive quality. The problem is, I’m fooling myself. Well, a little bit…

As the day draws ever nearer, I find myself accepting of my situation, yes. I’m fine being with me. I’m accepting of myself like never before (minus the donuts I ate this morning-what was I thinking?). I’ve even made plans to spend the evening with the only man in my life who I know loves me to pieces, my son. I figured we’d go out somewhere, maybe get ice cream, have some fun. It’s almost his birthday after all and there’s no one I’d rather spend a fun evening with.

Today though, I realized that I’m missing someone. A lot. Realizing that he’s not missing me is probably the worst part of that equation. Oh, I’ll get a damned Valentine card from him because I’m on his card list, but it’ll have nothing to do with me. I know that nothing will come of us and that’s probably for the best, but I miss the small stuff. I miss talking to him. I miss our afternoons chatting about randomness, all the stuff we have in common, ghosts, trips, plans, writing,  joking about stupid stuff, his bad jokes, calling him the weird names that I make up… just all the small things. Talking. I miss talking.

It came to me yesterday that he was the picture window to my fly. I could see no other way but him. There may yet be an open door off to the side, I just can’t see it, because I’m a dumb fly and the window is so bright. I can see outside. It’s got to be the way hasn’t it? You know how it is when something seems like it’s the exact thing you’re looking for and you just keep hitting your head against it over and over again?

Even though I’m over the romance part of it all, the friendship part is a big hole that I’m having a hard time with. Like I said, I miss the talking. Friend-zoned usually indicates a friendship…right? An occasional discussion? A conversation? A how do you do?…but I digress…

Now I’m back to sitting in my office alone with myself like I used to. I have no one calling me anymore, nothing much to look forward to. I know that could change at any moment. Maybe, and Universe forbid, this stupid holiday is making me sentimental and mushy. I figure it’s probably alright to miss people now and again, especially when they were a big part of your life for a while. I suppose that this is all part of the growth part of learning to be alone and blah blah blah and yadda yadda.  I’m just miserable and I didn’t want another miserable Valentine’s Day.

Of course, I’m not really miserable being alone. I’m not angry. I’m not bitter. What’s the problem? I don’t know. I may feel a bit lonely right now, but I have me, I have the boy, and I’ll have half price chocolate the day after. (Yay!) I may even buy myself some discounted flowers. That’s the spirit! Nothing says patheti-sad-single-near-forty like discount post-Valentine’s Day chocolate and flowers except maybe a cart full of Fancy Feast, litter, and Mama Celeste Pizza for One. Still, I’d rather do those things for myself than have someone else getting them last-minute for me from the corner Walgreens the night before. At least I have forethought involved and a thrifty spending plan.

My favorite new lyrics that I keep repeating today, and I woke up singing are no accident I think… “I thought I knew the answer was you, but now I know it’s always me.”  That’s how I know next year will be better than this year and why this year is easier than last year. It’s self-love day. I’m going to get the hang of this.

Day 28: Function

Do you consider yourself high-functioning or low-functioning?

Well hell, can’t there be a mid-grade in there somewhere? I mean, some days I’m on it and sharp as I used to be. Some days I’m a little ball of  nerves on the floor. For the most part, I tend to float somewhere in between, or at least swinging back and forth several times a day. (Insert Pit and the Pendulum joke here) I have bad moments and good.

So the question is a little hard to answer. I can’t really tell. It depends on your specific definition of functional.  If I could see myself from the outside it might be clear. I suppose I can tell by how well my life is working for me (not very) and how I get through day to day, but I also happen to be a bit of a perfectionist and intensely judgmental when it comes to myself. The vision must be blurred from my view.

I have a lot of people say that I’m such a strong person. That speaks to function a bit. I take care of my kid, I get meals made, I keep us roofed and clothed but in terms of thriving, not so much. I’d like to be able to plan crafts and activities for us, take him places and not have everything be a spur of the moment thing. I’d like to have birthdays planned and do vacations and have my house perfectly clean. From that point of view, I’m a big walking mess.

I manage most days at work, I manage the house by myself. I do everything alone. I function. The machine is in order, but it could use a good tune-up for high precision performance. I need a little loving care, some oil, some attention paid. If I’ve learned anything this year, it’s the importance of maintenance in all areas. In the absence of any caring company, and that’s been made quite clear lately, I have to look to myself for these things. My relationships are the least functional things I have going on. Not functioning at all, truth be told. My understanding is that relationships bear the heaviest toll in this affliction, and so in that category, I do believe my mechanism is broken.

A little break somewhere where I didn’t have to think of anything, some invigoration, a change…

I’d love to finally get to Britain. All of those plans fell through. In looking at what would bring me to life and that would do it I believe. Happiness heals so much. Nothing would make me happier.

Happy leads to enthusiasm which leads to action which is the essence of living. That’s where I’m hoping to get. Back to entering contests to get there. Until then, I’ll plod along a little broken with the check engine light on…

Day 19: Interlude

What are some lyrics that describe what you’re going through right now?

Funny coincidence. I was just realizing that I keep listening to my divorce song this week. It’s a painful reminder but apt. Yes, I know, I’m still going on about being “friend-zoned” but it being at the level of Severus Snape, I think I’m allowed a little bit of wallow time. Everything else seems to be clearing up. I’ve mended some issues with friends, gotten along better at work, have some new support, a new car, gifts to wrap, but sitting there in the middle of it all is the damned rejection that’s eating away at me. If I read the word “friends” one more time I swear I’m going to be driven to gouge out a major organ. Yes, nothing is supposed to have changed. As we always have been, we’re friends…(ugh!) but there’s still mourning the death of my hopes and they were mighty big ones.

I’ve been waiting forever to find someone who fit so well with me. We made big plans. I meant them. I’m starting to wonder if there were any true feelings on the other side of this. Given how easy this has all been for him, well…I do wonder if anyone is ever going to have pain for my absence, if anyone will ever miss me. Anyway, it all fell into place so well in the beginning and now I have to watch it all spin down fate’s unforgiving drain. It’s all my fault. This “condition” I have makes me really hard to live with. The fact that what’s supposed to be such a small shift has sent me so far off the scale with suffering is a clear sign of the extreme effect. It’s the huge fear of abandonment that’s the center of this disorder and it’s been tripped big time. It may not even be about him, but the fear that was engaged by the event itself. After it passes, I may be able to sensibly say to myself that it’s all fine, that nothing has truly changed and get on with my life as it has been, just sans false hopes. So, on to the song…a condensed version because there’s no need for repeats…

During every big “relationship change” I’ve had, it’s always Evanescence that captures perfectly my feelings. “Missing” is the go to song. It’s apt from beginning to end. Every time. This time. It’s on repeat right now…

“Missing”

Please, please, forgive me
But I won’t be home again
Maybe someday you’ll look up
And barely conscious, you’ll say to no one
Isn’t something missing?

You won’t cry for my absence, I know
You forgot me long ago
Am I that unimportant?
Am I so insignificant?
Isn’t something missing?
Isn’t someone missing me?

Even though I’m the sacrifice
You won’t try for me, not now
Though I’d die to know you love me
I’m all alone
Isn’t someone missing me?

And if I bleed, I’ll bleed
Knowing you don’t care
And if I sleep just to dream of you
I’ll wake without you there
Isn’t something missing?
Isn’t something

Even though I’m the sacrifice
You won’t try for me, not now
Though I’d die to know you love me
I’m all alone
Isn’t something missing?
Isn’t someone missing me?

Day 10: Randomness

What kind of impulsive decisions have you made?

Well, what a can of worms to open up. That requires some deep thought. Just today I’ve made a couple of random decisions that aren’t in my best interest. I’ve hit the anger phase of my breakup. Yesterday I spent the afternoon in my therapist’s office crying like an ass after making an emergency appointment. Today I’m returning to my evil queen splendor. I’m just angry at myself for falling for it. I mean, for crap’s sake, my ex husband warned me. He had his number all along. If that doesn’t scream “move on” I don’t know what does, but like the pure Opheliac I am, I wanted to believe so much that I ignored it all. Now I get to drown in the ankle-deep water because I was stubborn.

Like I’ve said before, I tend to get drastic. During my upswing, or my hypomania…I started drinking (yes, I’m the reason the rum is gone), I got a new tattoo (of my Evil Queen complete with poison apple), I went OFF the diet, I spent money on every dumb thing since I love giving people things, and bought myself a new computer, a necklace shaped like a human heart (I really have a theme going here), and lunches and dinners I had no business indulging in. Then I had that lovely moment of almost driving myself off a cliff after being dumped…

Even all of that recent hooplah is small beans compared with probably my biggest impulsive decision…getting married. I call it impulsive because at the time I had only known him for 6 months. I did, in the back of my mind question everything. I had sensible guidelines but of course I ignored them all, just like I recently have with DG. I think it’s entirely true that every one of my relationships save one was the result of going against my better judgment. I, as always, went Looney Tunes, as in the cartoons…(A man!). I had the very “American Splendor” point of view that I’d marry anyone who would have me. I was so convinced that no one ever would that I jumped in with both feet. I gave him opportunities to escape. He didn’t take them. I did try to be responsible but my sense gave way to my intense need and feelings.

Oddly enough, that rash decision has led, after a very long period of mourning on my end, to a solid friendship. He’s one of the very few who won’t budge or bolt. He drops everything to make me laugh, to talk me out of some of my ridiculousness, and to just tell me random things.  Some impulsive decisions end up if not being all good, end up not all bad.  I got my son out of that one after all. The hair colors pass, the tattoos don’t but I’ve had pretty good luck considering. There has been some deeply painful fallout as well but I’m still here somehow. I’m coming off that cycle and back down. We’ll see how that goes. I”m trying not to make any rash decisions based on my feelings which are highly changeable. Right now I’m angry, never a great time to think, or drive.  So I’m going to wait and try to focus on getting better by myself. My first impulse is to never let anyone close to me again, but I’ll sit with this and wait for it to pass. Everything does eventually.

Day 6: Insert Morrissey Song…

Question 6: How’s your love life? My first thought was to start off with a fit of mad laughter a la Jack Nicholson’s Joker. That mad laugh/cry he erupted into upon first seeing his face after being dropped in the vat of chemicals by Batman was pretty much my reaction to the question. I mean, come on! My love life? A question about that now?!

I suppose the reason it stings is because my hopes and dreams with DG have just gone up in flames faster than Atlanta in Gone with the Wind. They were nice dreams. They encompassed more than my romantic hopes but my career and travel goals as well. Now I have that pierced through the heart feeling and nothing will fill that emptiness. I guess that’s the empty feeling so talked about in borderline circles.  Just last night I became the tired cliché, eating a pint of ice cream in sweats and watching things that made me cry. I had no desire to do or even plan anything that before would have lit up my entire mood.

You know what brought that on? He signed off quickly for the millionth time, but when he abruptly left, he signed off with “All the Best” where he used to say “Love” or “Yours” or “Always”. I know it’s normal and friendly like it should be now that things have been returned to a status of “friendship”, but it gutted me, obviously. A tiny thing flips a switch and I feel it like a tidal wave. It brought to light something else. Simply by the way I am, I push people away. I have for a long time and I began to see the pattern and how it fit with the definitions of Borderline.

I spent some time talking to a trusted friend and I can say that I’m coming to realize just how hard it is with me reading every little shift of interest as the end of all hope and the impending departure of my friend/partner/whatever. It’s a little hard to take. I mean, how can I ever expect anyone to deal with me? It makes the future of a love life look bleak indeed. In that light, seeing that all of my desperate attempts to have someone care for me as much as I care for them is futile. All of my anxiety and pain seems like cheap melodrama to those around me because they can’t feel it or even imagine it…I just look like a drama queen having fits, but that’s not really the case. Feelings sweep me up and overwhelm. Everything is a reaction to them. No premeditated dramatic soliloquy possible. Just a trigger and an opposite reaction, though in this case, not equal…

Once my friend knew that this is what I was feeling and not me in some way trying to comment on his lack of friendship, and that some decisions I needed to make at the time I simply couldn’t because of those triggers, it made our friendship so much smoother. It reminded me of something I watched last night that hit me like a ton of bricks and explained the situation perfectly and succinctly. Kevin Bacon’s character in “The Following” has a habit of pushing people away out of fear and being unable to let people in, not unlike a borderline (you’re either all in or all out). His partner was giving advice to someone who cared for him. He said, “He’ll push, just don’t budge.”

Just don’t budge.

That’s what it’s going to take. I don’t know all that many people with that kind of patience or the understanding to know that it’s all unconscious on my part. The anger, the depression, all of it. I’ve been truly lucky a few times in that I’ve found two best friends, one of them oddly my ex husband, who won’t budge. If I get truly lucky, maybe there’s a guy out there who’s willing to stand his ground as well. Until then, I’ll be here eating my ice cream.

Hung Up

So, today. I’ve been doing my daily gratitude but I’ve kept it to myself for the most part. I spend a few minutes reflecting in some quiet if I can on how lucky I am. Today, I was lucky enough to bring my boy with me to work and to have a somewhat quiet day. A little too quiet actually.

I don’t really know what it’s going to take to open my eyes. I’ve decided to give up completely on the quest for love because, well, it’s enough already. There’s some burnout from all the trying, focusing and striving. I always had in the back of my mind though that maybe, just maybe something would finally tip the balance with DG. I’ve waited, I’ve hoped, I’ve tried. The truth is, the answer really is and always has been right there. I just don’t want to see it.

I’ve seen really clearly this week. I’ve made every dumb mistake in the book. I’ve waited by the phone. I’ve made excuses. I’ve accepted excuses but the truth is, everything really points to him just not being into me, for real. I’m broken down. I’m tired of trying to make something happen that just isn’t. Sometimes you want something so much that you can’t see what’s right in front of you. If it was real and meant to be, there would be nothing stopping the guy from doing everything in his power to be near me, either physically, by email, snail mail or phone. That’s what guys do apparently. If they want you, they show it through actions. No sweet talk or apologies needed. If he’s not chasing, he’s looking over the other wildebeest on the Serengeti.

Somehow the titles of “Miss Backup Plan” and “The One Until a Better One Comes Along” weren’t my dream achievements as a little girl.

So, I guess today, no matter how bad it feels,  I’m grateful for clarity.  I should respect myself more than to wait for someone who shows no interest in being with me…I’ve spent far too long looking for someone to love me instead knowing my value and operating from a place of asking who deserves me instead of who will have me. As I just read recently,  settling for someone who’s endgame isn’t me makes no sense. Yeah, the guy may never show up. I could be wrong but feeling bad all the time should tell me something about the truth I’m not seeing. I should be thankful to know now I suppose, to see with my brain instead of my heart so that I can machete through all the emotional BS. I need to remember that Big, despite the Hollywood happy ending, was really never all in or ever all out. There’s a word for that, “Limbo”. As the lovely meme lady says,”Aint nobody got time for that.”

Blankety Blank

 

It’s a little weird to have no more questions to answer at the end of the blogging challenge. I can say that it’s been a bit odd not having the daily post to do.

I thought that I was on a roll and decided, like every year, to sign up for National Novel Writing Month. I had a couple of overlap days which was a little much, but I was both excited to jump in but worn out at the same time.  Then there was a crash. A few things unraveled. My car broke down, I got sick, and…I couldn’t write.

Seriously. Crash-o-rama…

In the midst of chores I started feeling crappy and…bam! Fever. Aches. Being stuck on the couch and most of all, no word count. One day turned to four and I had nothing behind the eyes but a massive headache.

I’ve never tanked the contest before and I’m still feeling kind of bad about it. I’ve been, to be honest, feeling a little depressed and cursed with bad luck. Out of nowhere, I saw another 30 day test of dedication. A random diet page I follow came up with 30 days of gratitude! Instantly that was a real challenge. I’m without wheels, missing appointments, miserably sick, isolated, and to top it all off, facing complete apathy from my Doubtful Guest (the boyfriend).

Of course I know I’m supposed to be grateful. I know it! But faced with it as a 30 day challenge I had to remember than knowing something and practicing it are far removed. Obviously, the problems tend to stick out and occupy your mind, especially when your mind feels like it’s getting ready to make a break from your skull towards the cat door.  So, today I’m thankful that I have something to write about and for the fact that there are suddenly people reading it (Thank You!). I’m thankful for everyone’s kind comments and for the opportunity to be completely me (as off as I can be). I always seem to forget that for things to get better, you have to focus on the things you want, not the problems.  I’m done circling the drain, as my bestie’s mom says.

I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I might be up for a Life of Brian sing-a-long instead of ruminating on the issues to be solved. (ok, yes, I may actually like show tunes after all!)   A rousing round of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” might scare people I know, but a little enthusiasm may yield better results.

Day 23 – Smile and Nod

Talk about a moment when you got annoyed with a married friend, a person in a relationship, or a person with kids (Be honest! No judgment!).

To be honest, I don’t get annoyed much anymore. For the longest time just the sight of a happy couple or the mention of someone’s boyfriend in a conversation would send my eye to twitching. Over the past months as I’ve realized that I can really be happy alone, it doesn’t phase me much anymore. I’ve actually caught myself watching My Fair Wedding a few times with no negative effects. Progress I think. There was, however, one recent time when the whole subject irked me. Getting advice on ending your single life from a happy couple is always so much fun, isn’t it?

It was a random weekend and my relatives were going on about a trip they were taking and one of them seemed less enthused about it. I asked him why he agreed to go since it wasn’t his thing at all. Well, it it became a big discussion about how relationships were a compromise and how I’d never get everything I wanted, that I should be less picky. At that point it was brought up that I should try this new online dating site. When I pointed out that I didn’t subscribe to the religion it was based around, I actually heard these words of advice,  “Who cares? You can fake it. You’re getting older and you need a man around the house.”

So the happy couple was giving me the message that faking my most deeply held beliefs was better than being alone. Somehow neither of them batted a lash at this. It made me wonder just how fake their relationship was, how much each of them was lying to the other, and if either of them realized that implication for themselves when they’d said it. According to that advice, being dishonest about myself was preferable.  Somehow being in a relationship is supposed to trump being true to myself because, you know, compromise. At that point it was more stories about how each of them did things for the other that they didn’t enjoy because you have to.  Compromise is all well and good, and it’s not that I’m incapable of it, but I’d much rather be alone and real than fake and in a relationship that won’t last the second a little tremor reveals it’s shaky foundation.

I’m over hearing about it. I’m over couples’ advice, I just smile and nod and wait for them to stop. That was the last time I got the eye twitch and the last time I argued on the point. I’ve decided no matter what the examples are in front of me, I’m going to follow my heart on this one. What the heck is the point of a relationship if you’re not allowed to be yourself? Now that I think about it, I wonder if that present they got me was really from where they said it was from…hmmm.