I decided a long time ago I didn't want to become my mother. I hold to that, to this day. My mother is a woman with a lot of secret regrets, things I know she wanted and couldn't do, a woman who had to make choices in her life. And this is a big part of who I am, watching her. And there are a lot of things I can tell you, things I can recount reason for the way I am the way I am, but what would be the point? I think it all speaks for itself.
I go through emotional phases, sometimes I'm angry, sometimes I terribly sad, sometimes violent, sometimes filled with such happiness I feel almost going to burst. I've felt beautiful though, these last few days, beautiful. I got up and put on new clothes, bought new jewelry, did my makeup for the first time in weeks, left the house without a push-up. I've felt like myself again.
And one thing is, I'm just so angry. I'm so cheated, I feel so let down. I sit and compare this with so many other men who've come through, he never asked about those; afraid of how he'd compare. Men who taught me business ethics, men who bought me new clothes, new friends, new identities. Men who gave me new perspectives, men who gave me morals. Men who took me for everything I had, men who gave their all. I'm fortunate to have known so many different men in my life, all with their own bizarre story, all with their own place.
And I know there is a man out there who is meant for me. But I'm not thinking of that right now. And I know, this time, I really gave. I really gave. And I don't believe in regretting anything I can't change.
What I want is for people, when they ask me about the situation, is to see me. Not to make endless references to the metaphorical Mr. Right that is supposively always around the corner, or to carry on about what they thought of him, both good and bad. These things don't matter. The world thinks a woman's life is worthless without a man, so much that it doesn't matter how offended she is, only that she knows that the right man is coming; as if this were all she could look forward to. My mother had so many sad regrets I never could see it that way. And I could go on for a hundred years and rationalize and criticize and analyze but the truth is, it isn't worth it, and straying from that is to get off topic and useless in itself. What I need now is to get away from all that.
What bothers me most is ambiguity. But I suppose my own thoughts on the topic are elusive too. But I see things differently now, its stupid to say but its true. I don't envy those girls like I used to. For the first time in a long time, my life is mine. I'm not afraid of the nonsense that everyone will tell me, how I can look forward to a "better man." How I can now have the banker I somehow convinced everyone was the object of my fantasies. How pretty i look and thin, too! How now I can come back out, go to parties like I used to, persue the "right" kind of man, the ones with the Amex black cards. How I should give Daniel a call now, how he's been devastated since the last time. How they always knew I'd end up with so and so, how they knew this wasn't right, how surprised they were that it even lasted as long as it did. I don't need to hear the limits people want to put on me, these expectations of this fantastical "great match" - what does this mean anyway?!- they all see me with now. I know who and what I am. I know what I need and what I want, and know it more now than ever. I'm not afraid to love the woman who's life is apparently worth nothing on its own.
And I refuse to walk with my head down. My mother did enough of that for so long, for fear of letting go would somehow upset everyone around her. I don't care, its so empowering to say. I don't care. I'm seeing, really seeing. And I may be sad, I may be angry, I may feel ugly and eve agree that I am worthless at times, but I'm here.
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