Because of a wonderful woman named Irene, I cannot blog about how GREAT it was to perform my last show in My Big Gay Italian Wedding, with Lainie Kazan & Nikki Blonsky. I'll never again have hair 3 feet high, or be able to "tawk" with the accent. I was just getting comfortable with the character, and Ms. Irene came along and blew it away. Hurricane Irene ruined everything, but when I see that I made out without losing power; that I had no flooding; that I experienced no damage or loss, I realize I have NOTHING to complain about. Hurricane Irene did give me one interesting thing though: an entire weekend with the Quiet One. It's been over due, but I guess I've wanted to be sure this was real, and not some summertime fling that we all read about.
It appears the Quiet One has quietly come into my life to teach me so many things about myself. And especially to "unteach" me about some of the concepts I had learned as a young girl. The Quiet One has me thinking a lot about the things I was raised to believe and about what I REALLY believe about myself.
When real love shows up, what the hell is it supposed to look like? What does it feel like? And if it does show up, what the hell do you do with it? I know you're thinking, 'girl, if real love showed up at my door, I'd be ALL over that!' But I can tell you firsthand, that when your youth is full of drama, you are indirectly instructed...and I've paid a LOT of money in therapy (yes, surprise I was in therapy, lol, many years ago) to learn and understand my childhood.
When you come from an alcoholic and abusive home life, you are mistaught things. You learn that you do what you have to in order to survive. And that means being "a good girl" no matter what, blaming yourself for things that are not even your fault. You learn that you have to walk on eggshells. When you have witnessed your mother being horrifically, unspeakably abused - right in front of your eyes - and she repeatedly takes the stepfather back, you are taught the wrong thing. You are taught that if you want love, it's supposed to hurt. You are taught that you are not a queen that is adored - you are a peasant, a slave, to be walked on. AND, when you grow up in that environment, you learn that no matter how bad he treats you, you grow up believing that if you wait a little longer, he just might change...so you HAVE to take him back. Oh, I learned so much about dysfunction - I'm almost an expert! My mother eventually did have the courage to leave, she apologized to us for all we'd gone through - for that I admire her tremendously, but years of seeing that stays with you for a long time...the pictures, memories, sounds of screaming and such are etched forever into your brain - and so that's what I learned.
With my father, because our relationship was on and off, throughout the years and I really felt that my father favored my brother over me, I worked very hard to try for his attention and his affection. And what that taught me was that with men...I was not first...I was second. If I wanted love, I had to fight for it and I didn't need to be a priority as long as I was in the picture at all. So what did I end up with? Dysfunctional men who never put me first, who were abusive, neglectful and quite frankly, really messed up.
Oh, the horrors I allowed myself to endure with love. The men who've stepped on my heart. And though I was never physically abused (I made sure to promise myself that NO man will EVER hit me), I was indeed emotionally abused, neglected, cheated on, yelled at, forgotten about, stood up etc....
So I did all the work in therapy to learn all of the above. I have prayed to God for EXACTLY what I wanted from a man emotionally. It is important to me at 43 now, not to make too many more major mistakes. I have cried myself to sleep, yearning, aching to have a man by my side who loves me, adores me, needs me, enhances my life...who treats me with respect, who honors who I am and what I stand for....so when it shows up, what does it look like? I don't know...because as a child I never really saw my father or my stepfather LOVE my mother, show her affection or tell her how pretty she was...I didn't have an EXAMPLE to follow.
So the Quiet One walks into my life - a different nationality, 11 years my junior. He was so quiet...he's not quiet anymore, by the way, lol. But here he is, quietly loving me, talking to me, listening - truly listening to what I say. He does things for me before I need to ask. He repairs things, he cleans for me, he cooks for me...he may not be rich, but he makes me feel like royalty!!! Here is the word that best describes him: genuine. He's genuine - he's the real deal. He's already met the family & 2 of my 3 brothers have requested him on Facebook, lol. He has rubbed my feet, even if I don't ask. He is affectionate, considerate, and he was a PRINCE to me when Grace died. His number one question to me was, "What can I do for you?" One time I was upset with him about something, and I brought it to his attention (I no longer stay silent and say 'nothing'). With my exes, they probably would've said, "Oh, my God..here we go! Then he would've told me I was overreacting and we would argue. What was Quiet One's reaction? "I'm sorry, hon, tell me what I need to do to make it right." Que, que??? What? I almost fell - I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. LOL. Now perhaps men would criticize him but he's not a wimp at all. I've seen him when he's assertive & aggressive, and I can promise you, he's all man, lol!
So now I have all I want in a man, and I don't know how to accept it. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. It sounds strange, but I'm so used to being second, being mistreated, etc...now I have it...and it feels great, but EXTREMELY scary. It's like when I'd lost 63 pounds - I was SO excited...for the first time I almost weighed less than 200 lbs. And then this extreme panic set in, I still don't know why, and before I knew it, I self-sabotaged myself and gained some of the weight back. I won't do that here...no way. The Quiet One and I have reached a new level in our relationship, and well, I'm struggling with whether or not I should give it a shot or not.
So when love, real love, comes around...what does it look like?
Could you handle it?
Would you know when it comes around?
My mom used tells me all the time, "Real love doesn't hurt...real love isn't difficult...real love doesn't have drama." And here I am with real love. No hurt, easy, no drama. I really hope this is it...that he's the one. I don't want to get hurt again...and that is what scares me most...to give myself & my heart to someone who, God forbid, won't cherish it properly.