...and Not Bowing to Society's Timeline Is Better than Missing an Opportunity

I've been spending a lot of time with someone lately.  A male someone.  We've known each other a while, too, and our friendship means a lot to me.  He means a lot to me.  For some, this is cause for concern; for me, this is cause for celebration.

Anyone who's known me knows my marriage was on shaky ground for years.  We kept trying because we have a daughter, and that's what you do - you try until you can't any longer.  I've mourned that relationship.  I've grieved for years, actually.  I'm ready to stop being sad.  Some say it's too soon to move on from that, though.  They say I need to be alone with that grief for a while and settle into this new chapter.  I disagree.  Something beautiful has presented itself.  I don't want to turn away from it just because society thinks I should wait.

And I've never had a romantic relationship with someone who was a friend first.  It's an amazing thing.  I'm enjoying it very much.  There's already trust and a certain level of comfort.  We like each other.  How fantastic is that?  He likes me.  What a gift.

...and (Sometimes) Shrugging It Off Is Better than Trying to Understand

I've started this post so many times, and each time it sounded like something Abraham Lincoln would write: "When, in the course of one's life, she has opportunity to forgive or forget, struggle to understand, or just shrug it off...blah, blah, blah..."  Apparently, I'm feeling very old and presidential, like the weight of the free world is on my shoulders or something.  Thankfully, it is not.

There is a heaviness about my neck, but I know it will lessen without me begging for campaign dollars.  If you'd like to donate to my living fund, though, feel free to mail checks to: GiGi LeGault c/o Illuminate Salon, 214 N. 10th St., Boise, ID, 83702.  Any donations will be happily cashed.  Thank you for your support and all that happy bullshit.

Let me continue on about the shrugging off of shoulder weight.  For the last, oh, almost two years, I've been working on metamorphosing into something I can be proud of - or at least live with without self-hatred.  To some who don't understand this, it looks like pure selfishness.  Oh wait, it IS pure selfishness.  There, I freely admit to being selfish.  For the first time EVER, I am looking out for my own happiness.  I am embracing every day like it could be my last.  It's what I want Rhiannon to do, too.  I want her to start out seeking joy and fulfillment for HERSELF.  This does not mean that I wouldn't sacrifice all I possess, even my life, for those I love.  That is an integral part of all of this - letting those I love know what they mean to me.

The hardest part of this change has been the rage it's brought out in some.  I'm not talking about my ex, either.  Last night he said, "You have my daughter with you.  I want you to be happy and successful."  He may not love the way things went down, but he knows we needed to separate.  He's moving on and finding his own joy.  We have uncomfortable moments, but ultimately we have the same goal: A happy and healthy daughter.

No, the anger thrown my way has been from friends.  I've tried to understand the animosity.  I'm done trying.  This is me shrugging it off.

There is nothing more rewarding than the relationships I have.  I've done hair off and on in Boise for almost seventeen years.  In those years, I've met some of my closest friends just because they needed haircuts.  It's the best part of being a stylist, and I am luckier than most because my clients are friends.  They support me (literally) and share their lives with me.  I have a diverse clientele, too, so I get to hear great stories about many different things.  These people are the reason I stand behind a chair for a living.  Doing hair will never make me a lot of money.  That's okay.  I know I'll get rich the old-fashioned way - by inheritance.  

I won't always be a hairstylist, either.  Someday I'll write the Great American Novel, Oprah will come a courtin', the New York Times will herald me "The Best Thing Since Barbecue-Flavored Potato Chips," and all the world will be my oyster.  I'm sure that will piss someone off who supposedly loves me today.  My pseudo-mom told me yesterday, "There will always be those who are better friends when the weather is foul.  The minute the sun starts to shine, they will be the first to turn on you.  I'm sorry this has caused you sadness.  I'm sorry you're angry, because it's a waste of your time.  I'm sorry that a couple of people can tarnish the great things happening in your life and take your attention from those who truly love you.  It's time to let them go."

I'll do my best.  Thanks for the love.

...and Moving On Is Better than Stagnation

After fifteen years, my relationship with my daughter's father has ended. It's true what they say: You discover who really loves you when the chips are down.  My daughter and I have been living with friends for weeks, borrowing cars, and eating out of other's fridges.  It hasn't been the easiest of times, yet I've felt more free than I have in years.  Lighter.

Rhiannon loves her dad; she misses him.  That said, she does not miss the gloom that was our family atmosphere for as long as she can remember.  Yesterday, in the car, she said, "We're just happier now, huh?"  Indeed.  The time she spends with her father, however brief and infrequent, is quality time.  He takes her fun places.  They interact.  It's good.  She deserves that.  They get to make amazing new memories together.  I get to do that with her as well.

I signed the lease on a little house Friday.  The backyard is amazing. Rhiannon eats plums right from the tree and grape tomatoes from a raised garden bed. The grapes are tart - she says she'll wait a bit longer for those. She reads and draws while sitting on a tree stump.  We're painting her room a pale pink called Opal.  We haven't moved in furniture, but already my favorite people have spent time in its rooms.  It's a home.  Our home.

Happy.

...and Working in Your Own Salon Is Better than the Best Job in the World

I have had some great jobs working for some of the best people in the world - two I consider close friends - but nothing compares to working in MY place.

It was euphoric.

Today was one of my Top 5 Favorite Days. Really.

There is still some work to be done, but I don't care.  It's an amazing space and I'm grateful to be there.

...and Taking a Risk Is Better than Wondering What Could've Been

Starting my own salon in downtown Boise!  My friend and I decided to take the risk and go for it - my name is attached to a two-year lease on a fun little space on 10th St.  The grand opening will be on First Thursday, March 3.  Hope to see you there!!

...and Reality Is Better than Expectation

Whew!  The holidays were much better than expected.

Aside from one of my husband's uncles telling me that my A-line haircut looks "butch," (something I'm fixating on since he actually said, "You used to be so good-looking when your hair was long.") everything else went surprisingly well.  Guess I'll need to wear a wig next year to avoid the scrutiny.

On to the new year!

...and Enjoying the Holiday Is Better than Giving in to Bullies

Ahem.  By bullies, I mean family.  I know this makes me the Bad Guy.  Ahhhh, the holiday season.  If my life were a movie, there would be a series of comical mishaps that would end with everyone hugging, realizing that life on this planet is short.  I already know how it will end, though, and it won't be Hollywood-style.  It will be awkward and uncomfortable, full of resentment.

The usual.

I love the idea that the holiday season can make families come together and reconnect, but I have yet to see that.  What I see is manipulation.  My little family is supposed to bend at the will of others to make the tug-of-war favor one side over the other.  I can't do it.  I want to spend Christmas Eve with my husband's grandparents, who are in their mid-eighties and might not have a lot of Christmas Eves left.

Losing Sheldon this year was a slap in the face by Mortality and it still stings.

My choosing this arrangement means that I am slighting people who share my last name - people who will see me the very next day.  AND I didn't know they weren't going to this particular event when I agreed to attend.  I've come to hate the holidays when I used to be so excited.  I have to fake it so that my daughter can have a nice season and that is so depressing.  I would love it if everyone could get past the crappy issues and have a nice night, but I can't even bring myself to do it, so I can't expect it of others.


Yesterday I actually tried to convince my husband that we should move to Costa Rica before next Christmas.  He said no.

Sigh.