I don’t fit: Ch 2

My time was being spent developing me. The nights of picking up my best friend to spend a fortune on food were no more. Cooking had to become a constant activity because of the detox that Pilates was causing. After work, I stopped going to hang out with her at her job because I had to go home to research topics that interested me. The phone calls that I would normally make on her behalf suddenly became her responsibility. Her insecurities continued to rise to the surface. When she could no longer control me, she tried to change how someone else saw me; she took it upon herself to share personal info about me with my mother. Shortly after that incident, I banished her from my world despite attempts to keep me. The best part? I did not miss her. Wow.
Pilates and bellydancing continued. After a beach photo shoot, new information about me began to unfold before my very eyes. It became evident that all of these years, my tragic private life was spent with the wrong type of person. It took some years before I could accept this for myself. My spiritual views were very encouraging of my new found tastes, and also rather encouraging. My mother on the other hand remained ever negative against me. Never approving of choices that I made for myself and always overly critical and generally negative.
This scene played itself out in my 30s. I was the champion of womens circles and being able to do what I want whenever I want without having to check in with a significant other. There wasn’t a baby waiting for me or even a dog to walk. Freedom was mine to dance on the beach naked whenever the moon beckoned. Then my father passed away.
Life changed.
My mother was devastated. His death made me see her in a completely different way; she was going to be round II someday. It was not long before I realized that maybe, I should have a family of my own. Other people had their own units to claim. How many times had friends canceled on me because they had to take care of something for someone that they loved? Even now, the fear that I could vanish without anyone noticing is a credible threat. Prior to my 40th birthday, it was apparent that there were many things in life that were no longer fulfilling and something else was required. I wanted my own family. A complete entourage. Maybe even a dog.
When I come home with a high from an amazing day, there is no one to share it with. Saturday mornings find me waking up to the sound of my insane neighbor talking to himself. If I get sick, there is no one to run to Walgreens to get Nyquil. Most of the time, I am alone. This probably comes as a surprise to people that know me, but it is true. Weekends, week nights, and even most holidays, it is just me. While it used to be a pastime, it is now a borderline fear. It is quiet and deafening.

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