I’m baching it again. Sparky is gone for the week. Dortmund-Düsseldorf-Berlin-Hamburg and Friday night he’s home again. Next week we’re in Berlin so if you’re in Berlin and want to hang out, let me know. I’ve got four days of shopping, waxing and hanging out. ( I still think it’s ridiculous that I have to go to Munich or Berlin to get a bikini wax. Fucking krauts.) Sparky is speaking at a conference so I’ll have my days free.
It’s nice, sometimes, to be alone. There is a quiet that comes over me that I can’t achieve when anyone one else is present. It’s like coming home in a way, coming home to me. We’ve been thinking of having kids and there were a few days when we thought we were on our way. But we’re not and you know what? I’m pretty happy. I mean, and we girls have all talked about this, there is a great deal of accessorizing that goes with kids that I would love an excuse to indulge in, but other than that? I feel the push of my age and we no longer have a lot of excuses not to. If we are, then we really should just get on with it.
But after finding a false alarm, I realized what I was feeling was relief. I can now do all those things I couldn’t do when the possibility was real.
Every year, I do a treasure map. On June 21st, I sit down and plan out my next year in terms of goals and what I want out of my life. Last year I was totally focused on losing weight, getting healthy. And I achieved it. I have never been so healthy and… what is the word I’m searching for? I can do anything I want. I can travel, hike, I can run up stairs (sort of), I can wear high heels, I can wear cute sexy outfits, I can walk with confidence again. I can take on the Kama Sutra like never before. I can have skinny sex. I feel so much more free than I ever have in my life.
I had that visit to SF where I got my power back. The confidence I lost when I moved here and lost my identity to the point that I didn’t know how to function like the woman I used to be. When I left Germany last November, I had no idea who I was and where I was going. I was unhappy to the nth degree, but had no clue how to either break free or accept it.
I came back and broke free. I took responsibility for myself and freed Sparky from the responsibility of making me happy. He’s a good guy, but really, it’s not his problem except when he has to deal with the rage of impotency I felt.
So I got my shit together. I analyzed and acted. I changed. I changed that which I could about my life and now I sit here, on my balcony, looking at a blue sky and the scent of some unrecognizable combination of flowers wafts through the air and I’m content.
Sparky asked me once if I was capable of being content. I replied, “Only in moments.” I have never seen such sadness in his eyes.
Cows are content. I live in a country of cows. I don’t mean that disrespectfully. People here are content enough that they don’t change what is bothering them. They tend to their yards, their social circle, they water the flowers planted on graves dug decades ago. They live in the past or they live in the present, but the future is only making sure there is enough for retirement. Don’t get me wrong, but isn’t there more? I want more. I ask for more, but before I ask, I have to know what more is.
Sparky isn’t like that. He’s more capitalistic and American than most Americans I know. He knows what he wants and he goes for it. But to a certain extent, that applies only to his work and his thirst for knowledge. It doesn’t apply to other areas, like my personal growth. Gee, I wonder why not. As someone whose sole purpose since moving to Germany and getting married was to do laundry and serve dinner with a smile, this was upsetting. These were the times I wished my mother were alive so I could ask her if this was all I had to look forward to because really, hand me the razor blades, this was shit.
Then I changed. The same spirit that moved me from the ghettos and low paying jobs to better ghettos and better jobs, stood up and bitch slapped me. She was tired of gentle whispers, I suppose.
I have a job now. It brings in a little money but a lot of satisfaction. Its freelance and its steady and when anyone asks what I do, I know longer have to play off the lady of leisure aspect. That got old.
I no longer think of kids as the only option, the only reason to live the way I live, the only excuse for doing nothing.
I do my own thing more and more. I enjoy my time alone. I have my own goals and where Sparky’s goals used to be Our goals and our goals were my goals because he made the money and didn’t I owe him that, my separate goals have a place. Side by side.
I have always feared selling my body and soul for room and board couched in the idea of security and there was reason to fear. I am a someone who craves security, never having it in my earlier life. But the cost? Wow.
I was not stupid in my choice of husband. I could have been; the opportunities were there. Thankfully, my idea of security was set high. I might have sold my soul, but I didn’t come cheap.
These changes are not easy. Not personally and not in my marriage, but I am lucky. Sparky might not like the work that has come with the change, but he’s willing to do it and he’s happier when I’m happier. He didn’t mean to Box Helena, but he did. I allowed it and then raged against it. Rage comes easily to me. Sometimes I think that when I was a baby three fairies came to my crib and blessed me like in Sleeping Beauty, but instead of grace, patience and beauty, they blessed me with wilfulness, rage and an unquenchable thirst for something that I will never be able to put my finger on.
So now what? Now I want more. And more might include kids, but in this moment, it doesn’t.