Tag: relationships

Relationships

Only One Love Song

by KimLeave a Comment on Only One Love Song

I’ve been lucky enough to see Damien Rice live..twice.

The first time I saw him was in October of last year. It was the second-to-last stop on the US leg of his first tour in nine years. It was such a big deal that a friend and I flew to Brooklyn 14 hours after I flew back to the states after my stint in Germany. It was an incredible trip and an even more incredible show (Glen Hansard even made a special appearance!). I had always known he was talented, always known that he was a very special musician, and seeing him live solidified that knowledge.

In October, I was still blissfully happy in a long-distance relationship that had started several months previously. We had reconnected after over a decade of not living in the same city, him being in Alaska and my home changing multiple times. Hours and hours of skype were part of every week, and my twenty-fifth birthday was spent in Anchorage with him. It was a relationship different than any I had ever experienced before. The communication was unreal. I grew to understand and know him better than almost anybody I’ve ever known. So at this concert, surrounded by songs that I thought were all about love, I thought they resonated with me.

The relationship ended about a month later for a multitude of reasons, and I think I’m just now finally able to look back on everything with a sense of thankfulness for the good moments that did happen. Of course, there are still twinges of loss, but overall, I’m glad everything happened the way it did. Since then, any sort of romantic life I might have had has been in a very strange place. I don’t mean for all of my posts lately to be about relationships and romance, but for someone who’s spent the majority of her last nine years (excluding this past year) in a relationship, the mental adjusting to single-hood is a difficult one.

Back on Damien-topic. The second time I got to see him was two days ago. I’m still on a concert high. Not only was I in a different emotional place, his raw emotion and connection to his songs was much more evident this time around. It was otherworldly. I brought a friend with me, and she and I sat in our chair in the second row enraptured the entire time. It was one of those shows where you just watch in awe of the artist on the stage. I’m fairly certain we both had slightly teary eyes the whole way through, and there were moments that his lyrics hit me and brought back memories from the past few years in vivid color. Memories of not feeling loved, memories of loneliness, betrayal, anger, sadness, but also memories of hope and learning to figure out what I want from life.

If you aren’t familiar with his back story, Rice had a very tumultuous relationship with someone that used to play with him. It was a very passionate relationship, but major ups and downs came with the passion. Many of his songs are about that relationship, and most of them are not favorable. At one point in the show, he started talking about how he was asked about all of the love songs he had written. He mentioned that he went through the songs he wrote and noted that there was only one song really about love: “I Don’t Want To Change You“. The lyrics are a complete surrender, a total giving up of the selfishness many people tend to bring to the table in relationships without realizing it.

In this past year, I’ve learned to really appreciate lyrics more than ever before. Being able to hear the background stories of some of his songs and seeing the different emotions tied into each song was key to bringing those lyrics even more to life. I feel like I’ve grown into a completely different person than even who I was a year ago. I’m constantly working on letting go of the cynical bitterness I feel like I’ve been using as a shield to protect myself from getting hurt and getting back to a place where I can unselfishly love people no matter how they might have treated me in the past. I’ve particularly been struggling with that the past month or two. These songs, this show, this phenomenal musician..they were a perfectly timed reminder to get back to the goal of forgiveness and love that I set for myself months ago.

Damien Rice at the South Side Ballroom, Dallas, TX - August 201
Damien Rice at the South Side Ballroom, Dallas, TX – August 2015

listening to: Damien Rice

Adoption

On Biology

by Kim4 Comments on On Biology

I’ve gotten mixed reviews about the idea of travelling to meet my biological family. On one hand, I’ve gotten support and encouragement from close friends because they know the stress I’ve been under and how badly I’ve always wanted this. On the other, I have people that aren’t nearly as close to the situation inserting their opinions. Of course, I realize that by sharing my story on social media, I’m just asking for opinions, both positive and negative, so that’s not the issue. The issue I want to address is the idea that by spending time and money to go visit my biological family, it somehow devalues my adoptive family.

I’ve heard “don’t forget who your real family is” more times than I can count this week. There’s the idea that it’s disrespectful to my parents heading out to meet part of my biological family. I know that even my parents felt a bit insecure with all my interest in my adoption when I was younger, probably because they were a bit worried that I might be more interested in my biological family than them.

I feel this is a huge issue with many adoptive families. They’re worried that they may not be good enough, that their child might feel more loving toward their birth family. To combat that, they shut down at questions about the child’s origin. For most of the adopted people I know, they don’t wish to be back with their biological family. Even for someone like me, who had incredibly difficult issues with my parents growing up, that’s not the case.

There are many people who know enough about their biological family to know that reuniting with them would be an emotionally unhealthy move. There was a history of abuse, they were stuck in the foster system, something negative to discourage any sort of reunion. But my story isn’t like that. My birth mother wasn’t some strung out addict. She wasn’t forced to give me up. Simply put, she loved me and was mature enough to realize that she couldn’t give me the life she wanted me to live. She was 24, at an age where many people are choosing to start having children, but she was still in college and my biological father wasn’t interested in parenthood. Someone who is that strong and cared that much about me is someone I very much want to meet.

So for those who know me personally, and for those who might have somehow stumbled upon this blog and have a similar story, I am not doing this to find another family. I’m not traveling halfway across the country to spite my family and make them feel like they weren’t good enough. I’m doing this because I want to get to know my birth family. I want to build a friendship with them. I’m doing this because of burning curiosity and questions I’ve experienced my entire life. I haven’t come across many people who are remotely as curious and constantly in my head as I am. Mostly, I’m doing this to thank my birth mother. Giving a child up has to be one of the most difficult things any person can do, and sacrificing any selfish desires she may have felt in order to provide me with a better life is an incredible gift.

Beluga Point, Alaska - August 2014
Beluga Point, Alaska – August 2014
Relationships

Making Sense of Late-Night Musings (and Something About A Crush)

by KimLeave a Comment on Making Sense of Late-Night Musings (and Something About A Crush)

I get a lot of my blog post ideas late at night, but they don’t often make too much sense. For example, I met a girl this week who opened with the line, “I’m really good at making out” and my mind was blown. Maybe I’m just a bit old fashioned, or maybe just somewhat reserved, but I don’t ever recall a situation where stating that fact gets you lots of high quality friends. So I came home and started the beginning of a micro-story attempting to understand the psyche behind her…at 3 in the morning. Needless to say, I fell asleep before finishing and woke up completely lost as to where to go next.

That same night, I was somehow mixed in this feud of friends. This has been going on for quite some time and it almost physically hurts to see people on both sides of the issue that I care for deeply that just keep hurting each other. In my private journals, I’ve been exploring friendships and what that idea actually means. That still hasn’t gone much of anywhere yet either.

Rewind a couple more weeks, and I’d started a piece all about my dad and all these crazy stories I’ve just learned about him involving the 1950s, a tiny town out in West Texas, and a bunch of synchronized cherry bombs. This guy, the one who’s always been such a stickler for the rules and kept a stoic face for the majority of my life, was a hilarious teenager.

Most recently, I woke up a couple mornings ago with a message on my phone (from myself, of course) that read, “THE END OF A CRUSH. WRITE IT. BLOG IT. DON’T FORGET IT.” I obviously felt that this topic was incredibly important in the moment, but all week, I’ve been struggling to expand on the idea.

It’s true that for the past several months, I’ve been dealing with a bit of a crush on this guy that I know. It’s been a strange experience, a feeling I haven’t had often. While I’ve had feelings for various people and felt emotional connections throughout the years, this was the first crush I’d had in seven years.

I’ve never enjoyed the word “crush” because it’s far too accurate for describing the emotional state involved. It’s the overwhelming sense of excitement when he says he wants to spend time together followed by the even stronger feeling of being let down when he just doesn’t show up. It’s literally a crushing feeling, and it’s not enjoyable in any way.

The odd thing is that one day I woke up and could almost physically feel the relief crash over me when I realized that nothing was to come out of this crush. I had known this in my mind, but the self that is in control of emotions kept whispering “maybe the next time, maybe he’ll change, maybe the timing is just bad.” Despite my mind, my emotions kept my heart hopeful, but at some point my mind had become fed up and shut off the ability to feel anything but a friendship for him.

I’ve been so emotionally fragile in other parts of my life lately that I find the switch in feelings quite beautiful. The way the mind can protect from harmful things is fascinating to me, no matter how well-intentioned they may be. It was just as if my mind snapped back into control, slapped me in the fact with a curt “get over it”, and the rest of my being followed suit.

As with the rest of my writing lately, my thoughts on the subject just end there. They end abruptly. Even my journal entries have paragraphs and paragraphs of musing, then just trail off without a conclusion of my thoughts. Perhaps I really enjoy cliffhangers. Perhaps I like the experience of someone’s mind ingesting the ideas I write about and then taking off on their own with a different thought process. Or maybe I’m just lazy and never finish the things that I start. That’s the most likely explanation.

Old Main at the University of Arkansas, Fayetteville, Arkansas - May 2015
Old Main at the University of Arkansas, Fayetteville, Arkansas – May 2015

listening to: Letts

writing

The Next One

by Kim1 Comment on The Next One

I haven’t written anything except for journal entries in just about a month. I think the reason behind this has been pretty simple. I needed to regroup my thoughts.

So what have I been doing instead?

I’ve been reading.

More specifically, I’ve been reading things that I feel have been having a wonderful impact on my thoughts and writing projects: The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran, Scary Close by Donald Miller, and Naked Human by Christopher Poindexter. They’re all very different from each other, but they have one thing in common: authenticity.

I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships lately. Not just romantic relationships, but mostly the friendships I’ve formed with the people I’ve met in Tyler since I’ve been back. In fact, I had a conversation with an old friend this week about how he was proud of me for being social and actually connecting with people in town.

The thing is, I don’t even feel like I’ve been trying to be more social or getting to know everybody I possibly can. I’ve just been more authentically me. I’ve been more open and honest and friendly, and there’s a sense of freedom that comes with that. I’m not saying this in a bragging sort of way, but I think because I’ve been more willing to be wholly genuine, the people I’ve met and have surrounded myself are also like that. That sense of honesty is the breeding ground for intimate friendships. That celebration of genuine humanity- both the positive and the negative- inspires people to open up and help each other through the struggles.

It’s a very rare thing to be part of a community that is so willing to talk about their downfalls. Everybody enjoys sharing their achievements and happy moments, but it’s not very often that you stumble across a group that can be truly supportive even when people are admitting the faults that hit the very core of who they are. Because of this, you really get to know the souls of people, not just the outer shell that many of us wear on a daily basis. You are able to support their dreams with joy and without any sort of jealousy or bitterness.

Sometimes the support comes in the form of cheering on bands at local bars and restaurants. Other times, the support is having art shows and poetry readings. I got to go to my first one of these art shows a couple weekends ago, and ended up sitting in the back corner of the place writing, similar to the day that inspired my seven descriptions a while back. This was what came out of my people watching:

Willowy frames swaying with every strum of the bass. Spectators watched every hip sway and every limb move. It was a dance of seduction and passion, but you couldn’t avoid it- you couldn’t look away. The girls in the front knew what they had and the only thing on their minds was celebrating that- reveling in all that was free love- and they reached out their arms in an attempt to bring that love to the rest of the room. It was extravagant, yet bare bones simplicity. They all had pasts that had turned them into sirens, women who were so beautiful in their youth and freedom, but could drive you to the point of begging to throw your soul upon the rocks.

The whole space made you feel as if you had been transported to another world. It was a warehouse that had been converted into an artist’s safe haven. Paintings covered every wall and hung from the rafters. A stage was set up in the middle of the room for the various musicians in the room to properly express their thoughts and feelings the best way they knew how.

He had been encouraged to get up on that stage all night. Words were what made him come alive. He wove them together like a spider weaves a web, both parts artistry and survival. If everyone in the room had a title, his would have been Poet. He was the best at what he did, and while he was confident in many areas, the constant second-guessing in this facet of life made him more of an artist than he was probably willing to admit. He climbed up on the stage and even the willowy sirens fell silent, for they too felt the respect that his words commanded. There was a hush in the room as everyone sat with anticipation until he took a deep breath and began to speak.

“My name is…”

Mango's Chateau, Tyler, TX- April 2015
Mango’s Chateau, Tyler, TX- April 2015
mental health, Relationships

A Villain

by Kim1 Comment on A Villain

Several months ago, I wrote about being asked about moving on. While I still agree with all of my statements in that post, I don’t think that it’s necessarily about me moving on. I think with some current events lately, it’s clear that I haven’t actually moved on.

The end of a serious relationship is always difficult. The end of a marriage is even more so, especially when it doesn’t end amicably. There’s a lot of pain that one endures; a type of pain that sticks with you, no matter how much you try to rid yourself of all of the baggage.

It shows itself in feeling completely alone with your thoughts. It shows itself in the inability to really connect with another person. It shows itself in being completely disinterested in any type of relationship. It shows itself in feelings like you are simply too much trouble for anther person to have to deal with.

I know I’ve written about my inability to connect and the trust issues I have. I don’t want to be seen as beating a dead horse. But I’ve been encountering this major downfall in a newer way recently. In high school, I saw myself as completely undesirable. In college, I probably settled a few times more than I should have for guys that weren’t all that great. I don’t know what’s changed since then. I’m still incredibly awkward, not the perfect picture of beauty, and I don’t have much going for me. I live with my parents, I’m carless, and I’m waiting tables. But somehow, I’m attracting people. It’s a completely foreign concept to me, one that’s taken me aback and left me confused about what to do.

I’m still in the “I’m never getting remarried” phase. Actually, I’m still in the jaded phase of feeling like relationships are mostly a waste of time and emotional energy. I’ve got several friends that I love with everything in me, but sometimes I just don’t have the strength to be around them and their significant others. It’s not that I’m unhappy or jealous. I suppose it mostly just reminds me of what I thought I had five years ago before everything started to really fall apart.

In the writing course that I’m still wading through, one of the prompts involved fictionalizing and vilifying my own traits to make myself the villain in a story…turning it into a sort of shadow self. I blazed through over three pages of writing, and my shadow self was all about one thing: emotional destruction. An excerpt:

“She was carefree. Carefree in the way that she handled hearts. She wanted to be loved- more than anything, she wanted to believe that she could be loved- but she didn’t trust anyone to fully love her for her, so she hid her qualities until she was a shadow of a person.

She was a wild thing. She was a person who had trained herself to ignore any possible pain she might be causing anyone because otherwise, she’d never do anything for herself. So she turned off her ability to connect with others, especially in a romantic setting. She came in like a whirlwind through men’s lives and demolished everything in her wake.

She was an all or nothing type of girl. And when it came to fight or flight tendencies, she ran every time. Part of her realized that with the running, she just wanted someone who would want to actively chase after her. She knew that when people learned her true character to the fullest extent, they would no longer want anything to do with her. So she kept parts of herself hidden from the world.”

It’s funny. Part of me wishes I could find someone that I can truly be myself around, a person who could love me despite all of my flaws, a person who I could trust with anything. But there’s this other part of me that wants to run any time anybody shows any sort of interest in me. I’m a person who was completely broken, and even though I’m putting myself back together, the cracks will always be visible. I don’t want anybody to have to deal with all of those cracks.

Neptunbrunnen (The Neptune Fountain), Berlin, Germany - May 2014
Neptunbrunnen (The Neptune Fountain), Berlin, Germany – May 2014

listening to: Letts, Awolnation, Purity Ring