Somebody's Boring Me

I think it's me. -Dylan Thomas

I could not have stumbled across (googled) a more perfect quote for myself! I made an interesting discovery the other morning, as one usually does when one is staving off the eminent alarm. That discovery was this; I am a snooze.

I'm a colossal bore! I bore myself! I understand that this was the basis of my 2014 project to begin with, but it has really set in. I don't do a thing. And something that has always haunted me in one way or another is getting blown off. Throughout my semi-social life, from the time I was in middle school to now, I've been consistently bailed on. And I get it now! I'm so immensely mind-numbing that people actually forget to call me back, invite me out, include me in activities. And after spending these few months reviewing myself and trying to excavate my interests, I can't say as I blame them!

This is not a sob entry, though. I feel like you got enough of that out of me from my last post. (Which, I sincerely appreciate everyone's positive feedback on. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.) No, this post is an update on what I've been doing to date myself! I've become more interesting to me, and I have to say, I like it!

My first real foray into creating hobbies for myself came in the form of a motorcycle! I spent weeks cleaning and detailing my uncles' motorcycle that he intended to sell. Halfway through the process I realized, 'I want this!'. So I bought it! Riding motorcycles has been a family tradition for years, my dad raced motocross when he was sixteen, and both he and my mom still ride today. I'm so excited to be a part of this custom on a bike that I became so familiar with over the last month. Now, to learn how to ride it! I've signed up to take a weekend class at the community college by my apartment. (And when I say weekend class, I mean Friday night to Sunday afternoon. Worth it? We'll see!)

I've also tentatively taken up French. I say tentatively because it's an app on my phone. As the app takes me through the lessons, I take extensive notes and dedicate an allotted amount of hours a week to studying them. I've never really learned a spoken language before (sign language is my family's dialect of choice) so I'm motivated to become fluent as soon as possible! There's a movement I've become aware of called 'Give It 100'. The challenge is to practice something that you've wanted or needed to do for 100 days straight. No excuses. The community builds each other up and encourages each other not to skip a day. People are losing weight, learning how to unicycle and my personal favorite, a man is telling his wife he loves her in 100 ways in 100 days. I am going to give French 100 days in a row! And lucky ya'll, you get to be updated on it! (I wont update you every day. That's even more of a snooze than what I used to be!) Below is the link to the Give It 100 website. I encourage you to find something that you're interested in to dedicate a mere 100 days to. If I start today, my 100th day will be July 21st! What day will your 100th be?

https://giveit100.com/

An Open Letter to the Men Who Abandon Women

I owe anyone most unfortunate enough to read this an apology. This project proved to petrify me far quicker than I thought it would. I have a hard time opening up emotionally to people I know and care about, so I'm not sure why I thought opening up to the internet would be any easier. It took me two months to stop making excuses, to stop giving myself the easy way out. I've taken on this project because I've put myself in the position where I do not deal with certain issues. I simply wait until something else comes along to take my attention, so I have this build up of proverbial soul-gunk.

And even with this particular entry... I so badly did not want to write this. I hate the idea that I'm publicly wallowing in my (not so secret) abandonment issues instead of silently stuffing them until something good happens and I think I'm over it. But this issue/hurdle/pitfall has deposited a significantly large amount of gunk into my soul and I need to purge it before it buries me. So, here goes.




Before I publish the letter I've painstakingly written to those 'men' out there that leave their women, I'd like to assert that my dad has been ever present in my life. Any and all abandonment issues have come from other sources, sometimes even women. But never from my dad who has been a steadfast rock in my life. My point is not to brag about my dad (although, come on, he rules) so much as to remind the reader that a problem like this can arise from people you don't necessarily have around your whole lives. It can be brought on from people you've dated, friends, extended family members, co-workers, teachers. In my opinion, a relationship has to develop for there to be feelings of abandonment afterward. But don't pigeonhole abandonment issues; those can come from anyone. I've had it happen enough times by the men I've dated and friends I've made that I can't deny, feelings of abandonment have manifested and lingered. Allowing them to fester is a disservice to myself and I can't let it continue.
That being said, let's get to the good stuff.

To Whom it May Concern,
Allow me, first, to congratulate you on your uncanny ability to disappear. Harry Houdini himself would be jealous of your act that you've undoubtedly repeated time and again to numerous, unsuspecting audiences. The creative ways in which you make your exits are always sure to surprise and excite! Whether it's after a fight over problems you've invented or with no warning at all, your cowardly abandonment never disappoints in the devastation arena. I'd like to explain to you the repercussions of your actions.
First, by abandoning a woman that you helped create a relationship with, you have confirmed to her every negative thought she's ever had about herself. Every body image issue, you put your stamp of approval on. Every reservation she had about her intelligence, you shook your head yes in a condescending manner. Ever time she felt less than for any reason, every single time the little voice in her head told her she wasn't good enough, every question she had about her ability to get on in this world, you have solidified. You.
Which brings me to my second point; everything you ever told her, is now a lie. If you told her that she was beautiful, well she doesn't believe you anymore. If you told her that you love her, well, you both know that was a lie from the get. If you ever told her how much you enjoyed her company, her quirks, her conversation. If you ever complimented her traits, her characteristics, her skills. Anything you ever said to her to build her up is now fodder to bring her down. And she remembers. She remembers every look you gave her, every tender moment, every special tradition. And she now sees it all for what it really was; a joke.
Which brings me to my third, and thankfully final, point. You have made her your fool. You've turned her into a one-woman comedic act and all because you couldn't man up and give the poor girl some closure. You couldn't be a man, make one adult decision, so you've left her holding the bag. Now she questions everything you've ever said, everything she's ever felt, and she can feel the laughter from you and anyone else fortunate enough to have watched the whole thing unfold. You've turned her in to everyone's favorite kind of train wreck.
I will conclude this letter by saying that a woman is not your dress rehearsal. She is not where you make mistakes and flippantly move on without a word. She is not your plaything with which you act out your scenarios to discover what you like, what you would do, what you can get away with. She is your opening night. She is your full house, your second act and if you let her, she'll be your standing ovation. But if you are too weak, if you are too boyish, if you cannot handle the simple task of respecting your woman's time and affection, then you are still in rehearsal and you will create heart ache and chaos wherever you go. Drama and pain will follow you and your wake will be rife with anger and bitterness. When you put your head down at night your ears will be ringing with words spoken in spite instead of those spoken in love. And you have no one to blame but yourself.

Regards,
A Woman