I had a mind-blowing self-realization last night.
Let me begin by telling you about my new friend, Racheal.
She’s been working in my office for over a year now but we’ve only slowly
become friends over the past couple of months. She is sweet and funny and asks
a lot of questions about life as she is trying to understand and give depth to important
issues by listening to the perspectives of others. Which I think is fantastic
because I love to talk about things like systemic prejudice, the obstructive
power of hierarchy, and the possible reasons why people stay with their abusive
significant others, just to give a few examples.
While running into each other in the restroom the other day,
we once again began to chat about deep topics and Racheal had mentioned that
her mother had passed a few years ago and this had, in part, triggered her move
to NYC. I had the immediate feeling that she and I should talk about this more
as I am very eager to speak to people about the experience of losing a mother
and how that impacts our lives going forward, especially as women.
She and I met for drinks last night and we spent over an
hour bitching about work, discussing our romantic relationships and the trials
of dating, before finally coming to the topic of losing our mothers. Through
our conversation, I realized that there is a Pre- and Post-Adrienne. The before
and after versions of myself with the pivotal moment being the loss of the
person who loved me most in the world.
Pre-Adrienne didn’t really date much. Pre-Adrienne had a
support structure and felt safe that she could remain independent and unbound and,
if life went a little south, there would always be people there to help her get
back on her feet. I took risks and I allowed myself to embrace the noncommittal
attitude that made serious relationships and full-time employment seem so
unappealing. I knew I would eventually find something I loved to do and someone
I loved to be with but I was in no rush and enjoyed my freedom all the while
knowing that I had a support structure to fall back on if necessary.
Post-Adrienne does not want to find herself all alone one
day. She worries that each person in her life that loves her and would do
anything for her will be gone and there will be no one left to help her through
the hard times. Post-Adrienne now knows just how hard the hard times can be and
how much she needs loving people in her life to help her get through it.
Post-Adrienne suddenly desires stability and safety and wants, more than
anything, to find that one person to love and by loved by and build a life
with. I am looking for my life partner because I NEED someone that is mine (and
I am theirs) and when times are rough we are there for each other. Someone I
can rely on completely because the one person in the entire world who loved me
more than anyone else is gone and I realize how the loss of a love like that
leaves a hole and I desperately want to fill it.
*Please forgive me for writing in the 3rd person –
I took creative license and it may have been a bit douchey.
Since my mom died and I moved back to NYC, I have been in a
constant stream of relationships. And the moment I feel like one isn’t going in
the serious, committed direction I want it to, I abandon it and move on to the
next. I’m not cold about it. I get pretty attached to these guys. Obviously.
They represent my savior who is going to keep me from being alone during life’s
tumultuous moments and give me happiness, fulfillment and encouragement the
rest of the time. We will build memories and love each other and life will be
so much more fulfilling because I have this lovely human to share it with. I
still think this is a wonderful thing to aspire to and this change in attitude
isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it’s just that I am now realizing I am approaching
it with a desperation and fervor that is coming from a dark place. A place I
don’t venture to often because it hurts. Which is probably why, for a girl who
self-analyzes on the regular, I missed this glaringly obvious piece of myself,
this Post-Adrienne.
About a year ago, after a break-up with a guy I’d been
dating for just a few months, I had a serious breakdown. I was feeling so low
and crying so hard I could barely breathe. And I didn’t even like him that
much! I was flabbergasted as to why I was reacting that way and called my best
friend to try and explain and hoped that she could offer clarity. I sobbed into
the phone trying to explain that this guy had really liked me and that felt so
nice and my mom is gone and I need someone, I need a someone that is all mine
so I have someone to support me and make me feel cared for, and this guy wasn’t
the right guy but there has to be some guy, right? It was an almost incoherent
mess of words as I was trying to connect my break-up to the loss of my mother.
I didn’t understand it myself, couldn’t articulate it well, and Amanda was at a
loss as to what to say to help me through this moment. I think she tried to
understand but couldn’t relate to what I was feeling.
When Amanda lost her mom at 23, she was already married. The
only person she could talk to about her loss was Charlie. He was and is her person. Her family. Her support. She
tried to talk to me about it – about how that loss felt and how much it meant
for her to have me by her side during it all – but she was unable to get it all
out as the emotion and vulnerability were too overwhelming. She told me she
could really only talk to Charlie about it – having someone like that is a
really beautiful thing.
I’m happy to have made this realization. I can’t completely separate
my search for a loving life partner from the emotions associated with my mother
but I can most definitely control it better than I am doing now. I had no idea
that this was the overwhelming feeling I was experiencing and even less aware
that it stemmed from this loss. Basically, I have some serious soul-searching
to do as I continue to live and date and love and progress throughout this
uncertain life full of ups and downs and self-realizations.
Thank goodness for those moments. The moments when the “crazy”
you feel takes on a shape you can wrap your head around and create a game plan
to address. I know my healing is far from over and may never actually end but I’m
thankful for this next step in the process. Here I go…
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