Learning to Fly

I have been thinking for a long time that I need to get back to writing my story. Over the past few years I have found myself spending ample amounts of spare time (and not so spare time) participating in online forums.

At first it was out of a desperation to find some relief, some answers and maybe a kind word from someone who had been in my shoes. But I soon found that I was learning, and listening to others and passing out my own story and offering advice. Not that I always had something revolutionary to say, sometimes all I could offer was a virtual hug, shared misery, but other times I actually had an answer, or a suggestion where to start, and occasionally I even played devil's advocate and gave someone a kick in the pants to get them to see the other side. Sometimes I was downright mean, but only to those who deserved it, and if they didn't then I apologized if I offended.

Participating in a divorce forum, a pregancy and child forum, an MS forum, these places have not only taught me so much more about thses subjects, but how to deal with them in my own life. Through the experiences of others I learned what mistakes I was making, and even managed to avoid making a few more. Although I was already pretty good at seeing the "other" perspective, I heard from fathers who were fighting for custody and time with their kids. Instead of fighting to keep my child to myself, I realized that she needed her father as much as she needed me, and I did what I could to allow it and encourage that relationship. It was not an easy task, especially for a woman who had been abused and mistreated by that same man, but I found a way to do it.

So 3 years later, we have just finally come to an understanding. It took court battles and involving the children's lawyer and it damaged all three of us, and most horribly my daughter. But all along my intentions were good, and we have finally reached a point where I can breathe again.

I would like to say that I have come through the fire, and the hurts of the past have been burned clean. For the most part, that is true; I have forgiven my ex for the past and though we still are having some problems, we are both trying very hard to make it work so our daughter can be happy.

I have moved forward with my life. I studied hard and completed my Master's degree, and graduated with honours and a scholarship for my effort. I have spent countless hours researching, reading and evaluating myself, aiming to understand who I am, and what it is that will bring me happiness. I took time to enjoy my own company, time with friends who loved me for the person I was, even broken, and who held me together with their support while I healed.

Along the way I challenged myself physically, intellectually, emotionally. I joined a bootcamp, worked my ass off (literally) and in 2011 I climbed a volcano in Costa Rica! I faltered when my MS flared up suddenly after that, and gained a new MS symptom that has yet to leave; fatigue. I struggle with it daily, take pills, nap when I can, and am so disappointed in myself. I tell myself that I have to accept my new limits, that I need to pull myself out of this funk and get active any way that I can, in whatever capacity I can handle, but something keeps holding me back. I dont know how to do this by myself. In this I am lost...

I began dating. I met many nice men, got hooked on a few and made amatuer mistakes that left my heart broken. So I put my efforts into researching and learning about love, and how GOOD relationships work, and what I was doing wrong. I learned a LOT about co-dependence, and how I contributed to the end of my marriage by doing for my ex. I learned how different men and women were, and started allowing myself to BE a woman, to actually experience my feelings and not stuff them back inside. I practiced with my male friends, and the response was immediate. They laughed and flirted with me when I was in a good mood, supported and rescued me when I was down or asked for help. They checked on me, made sure I was ok, and taught me that it was good to let a man do for you. I learned that my power as a woman lie with BEING a woman, and doing what I did best, not fighting for control, but accepting that someone else knew better, and would do it better, and would take care of me along the way. I let him paddle, and carry my things, and hold me when I needed to cry. And I fell half in love with a friend because he did all of these things for me and asked nothing in return.

And then when I was ready to take a break from dating, I met Gerald. He was not what I thought I was looking for. I didn't want to date a mechanic, and to be honest the only reason I even answered his message was because he was boyishly cute and worked at an amusement park. I waited days before responding to his messages, still pining a little over someone else, and dating a couple other men I was not really interested in. But he was persistent. Not in an agressive way, he just kept responding, and telling me just a little bit more each time. When he asked to call me, I was not sure I wanted to talk. I was tired and jaded and not really open to investing myself again.

That night as we talked he really opened up to me. Not inappropriately. I had learned to be quite honest about what had happened in my past, as it served to scare off the guys who were not able to deal with that or accept it. I told him all about it, the nuts and olts at least. Gerald began relating his past to me, how his marriage had been much like mine, and I understood intuitively how deeply that would wound a man. And then he told me about his experience with counseling, and how he learned that he had never really grieved for his mother's passing which had been years before. And he told me how he had finally gone through the process, and how much that had helped him. And my heart warmed a little for this man who was so willing to open up to someone he had not yet met.

But that still wasnt the point when I decided to give him a chance. It wasn't until I asked him gently how his mother had died, and he said "complications of MS". My heart stopped, and my breath caught in my throat, and for a second it was like an electric jolt ran through my body paralyzing me. At that moment I don't even know if it was a decision I made, or if I had no choice, but I blurted out "I have MS". I wanted to rip those words out of the air and stuff them back down my throat! NEVER had I felt the words hang in the air like that, waiting for a response. In the next breath the world righted itself; his response was healing, it was acceptance, it was kind. There was no pause between my "confession" and his response. It was "no big deal". He asked how it affected me, and we talked about my experience, and his mother's and I learned how much his father had sacrificed for the love of his mother.

It wasn't too long after that call that I met Gerald for a first date. I was still quite unsure of whether I wanted to date a mechanic. I expected someone like my ex, someone wrapped up in proving his manhood, someone not interested in ANYTHING that intrigued me. But I was pleasantly surprised. He showed up with a single red rose (the first flower I recieved after about 20 first dates). I tried not to choke on my laugh, I was NOT a schoolgirl. We ordered food and discovered we had almost all the same preferences (mmmmm bruschetta made with feta) and both couldn't stand seafood. as we talked he kept mentioning how similar we were, every time we discovered a same experience, a shared taste in food, music, interest.

And still, at the end of the date I didn't know if I was interested. He walked me to my car and asked if I would see him again. I said yes, but in my mind I scoffed a little. He opened my car door for me and I said goodnight and got in. My leg was still hanging out the door, and I looked up as he turned away. I decided right there that I was NOT going to keep going out on dates with men who I didn't know if I wanted to see again, it was too much work. I needed to know if I was just wasting my time. So I got back out of the car, put my hand on his shoulder and turned him a little. I leaned in and kissed him.

WHOA! I cannot describe the fire that flared up, and at the same time the feeling of comfort as his arms came around me. It was not fireworks, but I had found fireworks before, and knew that they were not the promise of happily-ever-after everyone thought they were. This was different, less intense and at the same time, better. As I pulled back he had a stunned crooked smile on his face and I noticed how cute his dimples were. He WAS getting that second date.