Today I was reminded of something I once knew quite well: the back of the bus is the most bouncy.
Who needs to remember something like that after those horrid early adolescent years of yellow bus chasing? Who would intentionally venture towards the back of the bus again, knowing it would be littered with young, hormonal teens making out (who knows how they did that without biting each other with every dip and crevice in the road), empty highlighter shells, surely used as the newest form of an unidentifiable marijuana pipe. Well, I mean, the cool kids, of course. But I certainly wasn't all that cool in high school...
And that notion of avoiding the back of the bus has proved to be useful here in Mérida, as any adventure back there requires some serious gear, like a sports bra, for one. But today was one of those unfortunate days when the guy a seat forward and opposite of me was particularly interested in engaging in a staring contest and I, reluctant to give in so obviously, felt more uncomfortable staying still than the power in physically moving myself away. So I did. I moved myself to the back of the bus where I might enjoy my bumpy ride in peace.
This inspired me to do some research. Because I've been here for four months, and I can't get over the staring. In Uganda, I got it. I clearly looked entirely different than that people there. But if I don't open my mouth to speak, folks believe I'm from some Latina denomination... yet they continue to stare. There goes the "it's cause I'm different" excuse.
So apparently, this is just a particularly Mexican thing to do, that really bothers a lot of extranjeros, particularly women, as many blogs indicate. I wonder if men in the United States are as piggish as I've found them to be in other countries. I'm going to try to take notice when I go home. I don't think they are. Seriously, when I travel... my tolerance for men sky dives. Makes me sick. And sad.
And yes, that's harsh. But so is being a woman. Something I still dislike about myself.
Speaking of men, I afraid that I'm going to be lonely my whole life.
I hope that you appreciate how raw and honest that was. That is one of my 3 greatest fears in life. And each one of the 3 takes its turn in the number one spot. So in some way or another, I just told you my greatest fear in Life. Let me put it this way.
Jessica's afraid she won't find love
She says that she's never home
And just last night I swear I heard her say
"What if I die alone?"
- Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, Milwaukee
*cue my epic bout of silent tears*
I mean, I guess I should define "lonely" and then really think about whether or not that's a good thing, or if we ever really feel... what's the word to describe the opposite of lonely? I don't think one really exists - that's interesting, isn't it?
Hmm, so I looked it up. Thesaurus.com lists antonyms of "lonely" as unlonely (really... unlonely??), befriended and loved... among some other examples that really don't match up. Weird.
Anyways my "lonely" is not really about not having friends or not being "loved", per say. I've been blessed with the best of those. Many amazing souls have blessed, currently bless and will continue to bless my life. Of that I have no fear. In fact, lonely doesn't exactly suit what I'm referring to. Because being alone doesn't necessarily facilitate loneliness, and being with people doesn't eliminate the possibility that you might feel that way. In fact, more often than not, I feel the most lonely surrounded by people.
I'm actually talking about not ever having a partner. An attached at the hip best friend who can look into your eyes and read your soul. Or one who's not attached at the hip, but wants to be. Someone you have to work with to learn about each other, to grow, and experience the world. Oh yeah, who you can also steal kisses from on the random occasion.
It was a difficult moment in my life when my little brother had a girlfriend before I had a boyfriend. He doesn't like to let me forget it. In fact, he considers it one of the deepest cutting insults he has in his bag of mean things little brother can say to big sister. And gosh is it painful to hear him use them. Yup. You're right. I'm not good enough. Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not whatever. Just not enough. No one has ever found me worthy enough to catch their attention in that way. Whatever way that is. I wouldn't know. It's funny how easy that cyclic message is to repeat in my head... no matter how much time I spend fighting it. It's like the lyrics to an N*sync song. I'll always know it.
Tearing up my heart and soul.
We're apart I feel it too.
And no matter what I do I feel the pain.
With or without you.
I can only hope that this is not one of those stupid chicken/egg situations. For most normal people, it's totally not. So I'm going to go on self-pitying in peace. Thank you.
Can someone explain to me how we did NOT KNOW that Lance is gay? Come on.
And Rodrigo being a complete asshole again has made me worry about how much dislike I can truly hold for one human before ruining myself. I am fully aware that he couldn't care less about how much he hurts people... he hurt and hurts me. But look at my life and how special that time was for me. How close and far I was to believing something different about myself. And he has this despicable knack for intertwining himself in my world, in reminding me. It makes me mad that I'm here, having this beautiful experience, and then he pops up. And I half expect him to. On top of it all, I have to thank him for this. How can I be in gratitude and so strongly dislike someone at the same time? Disgust, almost hatred, a disabling negative feeling that just points me to the lyrics about myself that I already know so well.
And now, my baby sister, ripe and ready, beautiful and a catch, is about to enter the dating world. She's already asked me for advice on how this strange world works. How can I tell her that the world has never deemed me good enough to be invited to enter?
Go figure.
So I've been thinking a lot about the meaning of life - super high school of me. One of the many things going on pointing me back to that time period in my life. I think I was so caught up in college that I forgot this question... that I moved past it? I don't know.
I read recently that all we (humans) have ever wanted was for our lives to mean something. I'm not sure if I believe that. I kinda want more than that in my life. But I wonder if "more" than "meaning" is just "more meaning". And what is the difference between "more meaning" and "meaning"? Isn't meaning ... kind of an esoteric, intangible idea that can't be quantified? So more it's more like a plus 1 to infinity? Or infinity x 2... but they're all the same because it's still infinity? I think what we want...what I want from life is to be different than the status quo. To feel like my "more meaning" is more important than the average "meaning". How egotistical of me. So therein lies my paradox. Secretly, I want more meaning than the average human (or not so secretly anymore). But I also have this deeply rooted fear of "loneliness" whatever that means for me. Not exactly a fear of loneliness itself, but of continuing to be so. Hmm. That's an ugly realization. My deepest desire in life contradicts perfectly with my deepest fear. No wonder I keep finding myself reading "how to be happy" books.
So I find myself comforted by the fact that I belong here. I've never so intensely belonged somewhere - or at least felt it call to me every day with the same ferocity as the day before. And nothing else should be happening in my life save for exactly what is happening in this moment. And these feelings, though unpleasant, are necessary because they push me to explore deeper, darker, brighter, uglier and more beautiful parts of myself than I have before. Uglier. And more beautiful.
It's a process.
So I revert to an old technique from high school that always helped me breathe and sleep after a difficult night.
When you're young all you want
Is a place to belong
You'll change how you look
And the way that you talk.
If I'm being honest, I'd have to admit, that sometimes it gets to me still
Like I'm back in school and I want them to like me but I know that they never will.
I belong here. Right where I am, I know I was meant to belong here.
Right where I am, yeah I know I was meant to be here.
Well it's nobody's business but I happened to notice that some of those dreams you had died.
You got no excuse for not building a castle when there's still a builder inside.
You belong here. Right where you are. You know you were meant to be here.
- Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, We Belong Here
Who needs to remember something like that after those horrid early adolescent years of yellow bus chasing? Who would intentionally venture towards the back of the bus again, knowing it would be littered with young, hormonal teens making out (who knows how they did that without biting each other with every dip and crevice in the road), empty highlighter shells, surely used as the newest form of an unidentifiable marijuana pipe. Well, I mean, the cool kids, of course. But I certainly wasn't all that cool in high school...
And that notion of avoiding the back of the bus has proved to be useful here in Mérida, as any adventure back there requires some serious gear, like a sports bra, for one. But today was one of those unfortunate days when the guy a seat forward and opposite of me was particularly interested in engaging in a staring contest and I, reluctant to give in so obviously, felt more uncomfortable staying still than the power in physically moving myself away. So I did. I moved myself to the back of the bus where I might enjoy my bumpy ride in peace.
This inspired me to do some research. Because I've been here for four months, and I can't get over the staring. In Uganda, I got it. I clearly looked entirely different than that people there. But if I don't open my mouth to speak, folks believe I'm from some Latina denomination... yet they continue to stare. There goes the "it's cause I'm different" excuse.
So apparently, this is just a particularly Mexican thing to do, that really bothers a lot of extranjeros, particularly women, as many blogs indicate. I wonder if men in the United States are as piggish as I've found them to be in other countries. I'm going to try to take notice when I go home. I don't think they are. Seriously, when I travel... my tolerance for men sky dives. Makes me sick. And sad.
And yes, that's harsh. But so is being a woman. Something I still dislike about myself.
Speaking of men, I afraid that I'm going to be lonely my whole life.
I hope that you appreciate how raw and honest that was. That is one of my 3 greatest fears in life. And each one of the 3 takes its turn in the number one spot. So in some way or another, I just told you my greatest fear in Life. Let me put it this way.
Jessica's afraid she won't find love
She says that she's never home
And just last night I swear I heard her say
"What if I die alone?"
- Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, Milwaukee
*cue my epic bout of silent tears*
I mean, I guess I should define "lonely" and then really think about whether or not that's a good thing, or if we ever really feel... what's the word to describe the opposite of lonely? I don't think one really exists - that's interesting, isn't it?
Hmm, so I looked it up. Thesaurus.com lists antonyms of "lonely" as unlonely (really... unlonely??), befriended and loved... among some other examples that really don't match up. Weird.
Anyways my "lonely" is not really about not having friends or not being "loved", per say. I've been blessed with the best of those. Many amazing souls have blessed, currently bless and will continue to bless my life. Of that I have no fear. In fact, lonely doesn't exactly suit what I'm referring to. Because being alone doesn't necessarily facilitate loneliness, and being with people doesn't eliminate the possibility that you might feel that way. In fact, more often than not, I feel the most lonely surrounded by people.
I'm actually talking about not ever having a partner. An attached at the hip best friend who can look into your eyes and read your soul. Or one who's not attached at the hip, but wants to be. Someone you have to work with to learn about each other, to grow, and experience the world. Oh yeah, who you can also steal kisses from on the random occasion.
It was a difficult moment in my life when my little brother had a girlfriend before I had a boyfriend. He doesn't like to let me forget it. In fact, he considers it one of the deepest cutting insults he has in his bag of mean things little brother can say to big sister. And gosh is it painful to hear him use them. Yup. You're right. I'm not good enough. Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not whatever. Just not enough. No one has ever found me worthy enough to catch their attention in that way. Whatever way that is. I wouldn't know. It's funny how easy that cyclic message is to repeat in my head... no matter how much time I spend fighting it. It's like the lyrics to an N*sync song. I'll always know it.
Tearing up my heart and soul.
We're apart I feel it too.
And no matter what I do I feel the pain.
With or without you.
I can only hope that this is not one of those stupid chicken/egg situations. For most normal people, it's totally not. So I'm going to go on self-pitying in peace. Thank you.
Can someone explain to me how we did NOT KNOW that Lance is gay? Come on.
And Rodrigo being a complete asshole again has made me worry about how much dislike I can truly hold for one human before ruining myself. I am fully aware that he couldn't care less about how much he hurts people... he hurt and hurts me. But look at my life and how special that time was for me. How close and far I was to believing something different about myself. And he has this despicable knack for intertwining himself in my world, in reminding me. It makes me mad that I'm here, having this beautiful experience, and then he pops up. And I half expect him to. On top of it all, I have to thank him for this. How can I be in gratitude and so strongly dislike someone at the same time? Disgust, almost hatred, a disabling negative feeling that just points me to the lyrics about myself that I already know so well.
And now, my baby sister, ripe and ready, beautiful and a catch, is about to enter the dating world. She's already asked me for advice on how this strange world works. How can I tell her that the world has never deemed me good enough to be invited to enter?
Go figure.
I read recently that all we (humans) have ever wanted was for our lives to mean something. I'm not sure if I believe that. I kinda want more than that in my life. But I wonder if "more" than "meaning" is just "more meaning". And what is the difference between "more meaning" and "meaning"? Isn't meaning ... kind of an esoteric, intangible idea that can't be quantified? So more it's more like a plus 1 to infinity? Or infinity x 2... but they're all the same because it's still infinity? I think what we want...what I want from life is to be different than the status quo. To feel like my "more meaning" is more important than the average "meaning". How egotistical of me. So therein lies my paradox. Secretly, I want more meaning than the average human (or not so secretly anymore). But I also have this deeply rooted fear of "loneliness" whatever that means for me. Not exactly a fear of loneliness itself, but of continuing to be so. Hmm. That's an ugly realization. My deepest desire in life contradicts perfectly with my deepest fear. No wonder I keep finding myself reading "how to be happy" books.
So I find myself comforted by the fact that I belong here. I've never so intensely belonged somewhere - or at least felt it call to me every day with the same ferocity as the day before. And nothing else should be happening in my life save for exactly what is happening in this moment. And these feelings, though unpleasant, are necessary because they push me to explore deeper, darker, brighter, uglier and more beautiful parts of myself than I have before. Uglier. And more beautiful.
It's a process.
So I revert to an old technique from high school that always helped me breathe and sleep after a difficult night.
When you're young all you want
Is a place to belong
You'll change how you look
And the way that you talk.
If I'm being honest, I'd have to admit, that sometimes it gets to me still
Like I'm back in school and I want them to like me but I know that they never will.
I belong here. Right where I am, I know I was meant to belong here.
Right where I am, yeah I know I was meant to be here.
Well it's nobody's business but I happened to notice that some of those dreams you had died.
You got no excuse for not building a castle when there's still a builder inside.
You belong here. Right where you are. You know you were meant to be here.
- Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, We Belong Here
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