Things I want to pursue now that I no longer have to seek permission, synchronise schedules, or suffer criticism:
- Actively blog. He once told me that only people who want to be famous want to blog, and while I don’t agree (it’s a totally inane and unenlightened opinion anyway), it put me off writing and publishing my own writing for a very long time. I don’t subscribe to the same idea, but it was off-putting. It distracted me from really letting loose on the page, because there was that mental hump of a thought that was always bugging me. A totally unnecessary what-if occupying headspace.
- Do yoga, or pilates, or zumba. I have never liked being stared at. And all these are physical activities that shouldn’t warrant the same amount of body shaming that I got from him whenever I did it. Self-consciousness gets in the way, and the exercises are then ineffective because again, there’s that mental hurdle to go through. Instead of blissing out on the happy sporty hormones, there’s that internal self-doubt that kicks in that says, “Maybe he’s right, maybe I am too fat/old/unfit for this.”
- Ballroom dance. Because why not? I love dancing, and I used to be good at it. But again, it’s a physical activity that requires confidence, and mine was never that high to begin with. Combine that with questions of why, and eyebrows raised, and general discouragement, and you get a formula for just backing away and never even considering doing it ever.
- Learn to drive. I need to do this regardless anyway.
- Travel alone. I sort of have no choice but to do this now. I used to do this a lot before, and even preferred it. It’s just that I have gotten so used to being with someone else that now it’s harder to get back to the way it used to be when I travelled alone. I love every aspect of it, from planning to budgeting, all the way through to having the actual adventure. People will be surprised by this, but I don’t mind going off book either; I will get rid of the calendar if something better comes along. This did not sit well with him. He would always ask me why we weren’t going according to plan. And I was so scared to rock the boat that I always had to have an itinerary when we go on trips.
- Write a book. This goes with number one. I could never do this, could never get to this point, because I was mentally blocked from writing (see above). I can just imagine the judgement and discouragement and /words/ I would hear from him. Better not to start.
- Cook. Seriously. I want to learn, but have been too lazy to do so because he has always done the cooking. Also, if I make something and he says something bad about it, I freak out and say, never again. This one is on me. I should have been doing this all along.
- Climb walls. I love doing this because it’s healthy and I’m good at it. In my own way. It’s effective exercise for me. But we had fights about it before, and so I stopped doing it.
All of these things could have been borne, and I did bear them. I did forego all of them, and not unwillingly either. I adjusted my thinking. I changed some perspectives. I made myself want different things. Because I was married to someone who was the way they were, as I knew from the start. These were not deal breakers. I could let them go, I could find new passions. The world is such a big place, and God put so many things in it that we could derive pleasure from. I tried to find things that both of us would enjoy. I became interested in the things that he was into. I supported him in the things he wanted to do, and again, I did all of it willingly, happily. I have no regrets in this matter, only growth. There is nothing wrong with adding new things to delight in.
But now the seasons have changed, and I am freed (in a way) to be more myself again. Or rather, to widen my horizons once more, and not live within the confines of what somebody else thinks is the right way to live.
This is not me giving up. This is me trying to make the best of a sh*tty situation. This is me trying to find reasons to get out of bed for something other than the bare minimum. This is me trying to convince myself that there are other things to live for. My suicidal thoughts are behind me (a not too distant memory, they still float into my consciousness every now and then), and these are the things that I am looking forward to doing as a living breathing person who can still experience *life*.
I am not saying that I am going ahead and doing all these things pronto. I still have to stick to a budget, and I still only have seven days in a week, same as everybody. But it’s just good to know that there are things that I can do when I feel like I’m in a rut.
His voice is still in my head though. He didn’t really die after all, it’s only our relationship that perished.
But I will continue to try. This is me. Trying.
