I woke up many times last night with an upset stomach and my usual overthink. It was a hard weekend in some ways. Emotionally, I'm up and down as The Guy and I make it through our first rough patch. I wish I could say it'll be our only, but I'm a realist. Hopefully, this one will teach us something about how to handle any in the future. So far, I think we're doing pretty well. We were friends first, so we have that. And then there's that whole love thing I feel for him.
I'm not naive enough to believe that love conquers all. That said, I think Love can be a pretty damn good foundation. Of course, my beliefs on the subject depend on the time of day. At 4:00 a.m., these sentences may have read differently. Right now, I feel pretty good.
When I sit down and chew myself out it's usually because I'm being whiny and insecure about something. I don't have a dissociative disorder - it's hard enough just being one of me, trust me - but I have two sides that war sometimes. There's my practical side - The Intellectual - and the scared, insecure side - The Whiner.
The Whiner feels that she isn't enough. Everything worries her: Will people think the mosquito bite on my face is a pimple? It's a slow week at the salon...does this mean I'm losing clients? Am I pretty? Why did I say that? I'm not loveable.
The Intellectual is a planner. She's a doer: Really? A mosquito bite? Fuck them, if they have a problem with you - get rid of them. Who cares if you're pretty or not? You have a brain! Pretty isn't real, intelligence is. You said that because you needed to, so fuck them if they can't take it. Loveable? Seriously. The only way to fix things is to get in there and work. You need to be proactive. Loveable is not tangible. Beauty is not tangible. Get over it.
The Intellectual is also a bitch, apparently, and swears like a long-haul trucker who spent time in the military.
When The Whiner wins, I'm a mess. I think that no one ever appreciated the Real Me and no one ever will. My dad was gone a lot, because he was a long-haul trucker who spent nine years in the military, and I wanted to be the happy kid for him when he was home. My mom and brother are schizophrenic - 'nuff said. In fourth grade the kids in school were never going to be okay with me, so I learned how to morph into something that was just quirky enough to be accepted, but still fit in. It took me years. Luckily, The Intellectual propelled me through some of it. Even today I think it's strange that many people feel they know me because of social media and this blog and spending time at the salon with me. One person introduced me to his friend saying, "This is GiGi. You'll love her. What you see is what you get with her." Wow.
When The Intellectual wins, I start shutting down the emotional side and just get to work. I power through in a very practical way, not allowing feelings to dissuade me from getting things done. Often I think it would be better if she ran the show.
Ultimately, I am, of course, GiGi. We are all multi-faceted. I'm no different than you in that way, right? On good days, neither of these weird dominant parts of me need to make an appearance because I'm a balance. I'm emotional, with just enough of the tougher, practical side to temper it.
Most days are good days, luckily, or The Guy would probably have ran months ago. I need to remind myself that even the best couples have tough times and cut us both some slack. The Guy and I are two people who came into this with kids, parenting styles that didn't match, our own sets of friends, exes, and very different backgrounds. We might have a lot in common now, but we are not the same. Instead of being sad about that, I should be glad, I guess. I mean, if I'm insecure about myself, why would I pick someone that is a mirror image of me?
Our instant connection wasn't, "Yay! I found you, my missing other half! The person who knows me after two hours! I shall love you forever!" - it was friendship. We liked each other. Through time, we figured out we loved each other. Others noticed it first, actually, we were too busy being friends. Friends who listened and shared and marveled at the other's stories. Friends who laughed at each other, and friends who cried when there was pain in the other's eyes. I fell in love with him slowly and was surprised by it. We weren't playing some mating game, we were just hanging out. It wasn't a game of twenty questions between people on a date, it was real life. It was time spent getting to know each other in a deeper way. It was me showing someone else the Real Me.
All I can do is hope that he's okay with that. The Real Me and her two weird sidekicks.