Love BIG

"Love is something eternal; the aspect

may change, but not the essence."

Vincent van Gogh

In case you didn't get the memo:  today is Valentine's Day.  I could regale you with tales of how this holiday came to exist, but I won't.  Instead I want to talk for just a moment about what Valentine's Day represents now. 

Judging from my facebook feed I suppose the overwhelming consensus is that Valentine's Day is all about romantic love.  My coupled-up friends are all wishing their significant others lovey dovey mushy days on their facebook status updates, and some of these updates are truly over-the-top gag worthy declarations of undying affection. Conversely, my single friends are all posting angry/bitter rants that are filled with enough ire to make me wonder if homocide rates increase on Valentine's Day.

I'm not sure I get it.  How does a Hallmark holiday have the ability to so overwhelmingly affect the emotions of so many people?  You're either experiencing some sort of elevated infatuation with your lovey-schnuggums or you're going through some kind of rage-filled single person love withdraw.  What for?  For a card and a box of chocolates?  I don't understand anymore.

I vaguely recall being in high school and getting all caught up in the hype of Valentine's Day.  I remember the joy I felt when Eric (my high school love) sent flowers to me at work.  I admit it did make me feel special to get flowers delivered right to my cash register.  I also remember a year without a Valentine.  I remember feeling a little bit left out because most of friends were coupled-up and going on dates, and I didn't have anyone to go on a date with.  That made me sort of sad.  I promptly decided that I did not need a significant other to go out and have fun. I had flowers delivered to myself and I went out to eat with another single gal (my best friend Emily) later that night.  My Valentine's Day wasn't ruined because I was single.  I still enjoyed my flowers (thought admittedly not quite as much as the flowers Eric sent me the next year) and my food, and it was really a pretty great day all around. 

But today my facebook feed is brimming with anger and bitterness and single people who think this holiday is just a day for all of us coupled-up folks to rub their noses in the fact that they're single.  There was a point in my life when I could understand that.  I don't understand it anymore.  Here's the thing--Valentine's Day is what you make of it.  Okay singles--don't get all pissy just yet, keep reading.

This past year (maybe two years) the universe has taught me more about unconditional love than anything else.  I've been walking a rocky path filled with trials, tribulations, and blessings--all of which served to show me that love is more important than anything else.  I have been blessed with two amazing, beautiful daughters and these two little girls have taught me more about love than any man or woman ever managed to teach me in the entirity of my life until them. 

Ava and Issa love the world.  They are enamored with the entire universe in a way that adults somehow forget to be.  They notice every petal on every flower.  They say, "Look how beautiful that is!"  They believe every single person they meet will be their friend.  My girls don't mind going between our house and their mom's house (my daughters are my daughters, but the rest of the world likes to use the word "step" to describe them).  They love all of their parents with complete abandon, and they don't mind sharing us....though I think sometimes all of the adults in their lives have a hard time sharing them (maybe we could all learn from our children on this one). 

My daughters have beautiful, untarnished souls.  They see beauty in everything and everyone.  Issa and Ava are not hesitant to show affection.  My refrigerator is covered in artwork and cards they've made Kenny and me.  They draw pictures of all of us together.  They like to point out we're a family and they're sisters to strangers in the check out line.  They bless us with hugs and kisses and random "I love yous" throughout the day. 

Issa and Ava are small, but they love BIG.  They love unconditionally.  They forgive easily.  So today I pray my girls will always love BIG, and I think maybe all of us should try to be like them and love BIG too.

True Tales of Divorce

I threw my copy of Eat Pray Love at the wall where it hit with a satisfying th-wunk before sliding down to the floor where it lay, looking lonely and abused. 

"Screw you Elizabeth Gilbert," I said to the empty room, "You may have gotten to run away from your divorce, but the rest of us have to stay and deal with the men we leave." 

The men who transform into gigantic walking, talking asshats because their precious pride is wounded.

I wiggled my freshly painted blue toes at the ceiling. My feet were resting against the white iron headboard of a full sized bed I'd had since high school--the only thing left in the world that truly belonged to me and hadn't come from a life I built with the wrong someone.  

My best friend's toddler waddled into her former playroom and climbed up to sit next to me.  I wrinkled my nose. What was that smell?

 "I needs a diaper Aunt Jenn Jenn," the tiny tot announced. 

I raised my eyebrows, "No kidding." 

I grabbed a diaper from the stack in the floor and pulled down her britches.  "Oh good god that's gross!" I said.  Stevie giggled.  I wish I was in Bali.

Taking Out The Trash

Photo courtesy of www.mylot.com

When I was in high school I got into a fight with a girl I thought was my best friend.  She'd slept with my boyfriend and I was understandably very angry and upset about it.  When I told my great granny about it she just looked me right in the eye and said, "Sometimes you just have to take out the trash. No one needs trash in their life."   She was straightforward, my granny, and she didn't mince words.  Maybe that's where I get it from.  It's been several years since that conversation, but I've really taken that advice to heart this year.

You see, when you go through something tough you really find out who your true friends are. I think going through a divorce shines a mirror on your entire life and shows you things you never saw before (and might not have really wanted to see).

You find out that you have hidden gems and people who weren't that close to you become best friends.  You find out people you thought were best friends are really "the trash" that you need to eliminate.  You find out that a lot of the material crap you thought you needed was really just weighing you down.  You find out what it means to be brave. You find out that you are stronger than you ever thought you were. You find out that you make your own happiness.  You find out what it means to be YOU again.

This year I have surrounded myself with supportive, loving people.  These people make me a better person.  They make me smile. They'll hold my hand while I cry.  Their presence makes me happy.  I feel blessed to have these people in my life.

Anyone who weighed me down, who didn't make me a better person, who did not make me happy--I eliminated from my life. If I didn't feel like you were a blessing, then I decided you weren't worth my time. I made a choice to get rid of the fair weather "friends" and the immature people and the negative folks.  I  made a choice to cut out selfishness and shallowness, and to stop being friends with hypocrites and judgmental people. I also cut out excess in my own life.  This was the best decision of my entire life.

In cutting out all the crap, I found myself again.  And you know what?  I like myself.  I like who I am.  I like where my life is right now.  I like where I am and who I choose to spend my time with.  I've fallen in love with life again.  It's amazing. 

So this post is me letting go.  I mean really letting go--letting go of all the anger and resentment and sadness and ill will directed toward other people.  All that stuff just weighs me down, and I deserve to be light and happy.  So I'm letting it go.  I'm so blessed, why do I need to hang on to all this negativity?  I don't.

I'm going to share a tiny piece of my happiness with you. I had a photoshoot last weekend and it was amazing.  I was fortunate enough to have one of the best pinup photographers in the world photograph me.  I am so blessed.  I've always wanted to have pinups done, and now I have.  Here's one just for you:

A Circle of Women

This post will be wholly directed at other women.  Sorry guys, but this one is just not meant for you! If you want to read it anyway then go right ahead--maybe it will offer you some insight on the opposite sex.

I have to start this post out with a disclaimer:  I am not a single lady.  I am married.  I have been married for six years.  My husband is wonderful, but this post is not about men.  It's about women. 

I have a lot of single friends.  In fact, none of my best friends are married yet (well one is, but that's about to change).  Several of my dearest friends remain single.  I have lately noticed a disturbing trend among some of my single friends.  These beautiful, strong women are posting statuses on facebook (and saying things on the phone) that lead me to believe they think they actually need a man.

I know what you're thinking:  you're married so you don't understand!  My response:  Do you want some cheese with that whine?  I was once a single lady, and regardless I am still a woman.  As a woman I want to remind all of the other women out there that sometimes other women, even women you do not know, understand you better than any man (no matter how well meaning the man) ever will.

You think you need a man to share your life with, to hold you when the world crumbles, to protect you from your enemies.  You think you need a man to take care of you when you are sick, to share your joys, to laugh with you. You think you need a man to listen to you bitch, to eat dinner with, to travel with you.  You don't.

These are my best friends:

I believe we were all 18 years old in this picture.  We're all 26 now.  That picture was taken 8 years ago.  These girls were my best friends when I was 12 years old and they'll be my best friends when I'm 80. 

We have been sharing our lives with each other for more than a decade.  These ladies were there long before my husband ever came into the picture, and God forbid--if there is ever a time when my husband is no longer in the picture, I know these ladies will still be there.

When a boy broke my heart into a million little pieces, these ladies were there picking up the pieces and gluing me back together.  When my father died they listened to me cry and held my hand.  Laura showed up at his visitation with a card and a hug.  She didn't bother talking because she knew me well enough to know that I didn't need her words, just her presence.  They were the first people I told when I got engaged. Emily officiated over my wedding. 

When I found out I couldn't have children they came bearing wine and chocolate.  They still listen to me cry over this great loss--my womb will not be home to my child.  They are women.  They have wombs.  They understand this pain in a way that my husband will never be able to. 

When Laura gave birth to Patrick her soon-to-be husband despised us all. We came anyway.  He's gone now.  We're still here.  When Amy labored for 20+ hours and had to have a C-section to bring beautiful little Stevie into the world, we were there.  We never left.  We stayed all night.  When Emily decided to move far away to take a job she loves, we were there.  We threw her a big party and the miles aren't enough to keep her from being our best friend. 

When my heart stopped beating and I almost died--they were there.  When I had my first major surgery Amy and Johanna came and stayed the night.  In fact, their faces were the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. They took turns helping me get up to pee. One or all of them has been there for every subsequent surgery.  They care for me when I am sick.  I care for them when they are sick.  My husband is here, but I know if he wasn't they would be because his presence doesn't deter their presence. 

We spend holidays together.  We have traditions.  Amy and Laura have kids now. We're teaching those kids our traditions.  Their children call me "Aunt Jenn" and when I have children my children will call them "Aunt" too. We share our lives.  We know each other's joys and sorrows, tears and laughter.  We are a circle of women, strong women.  We love each other.  We fight for each other.  Sometimes we fight with each other.  But we are always, always there for each other. 

If you have a circle of women, you will never be alone.  If you have a circle of women, you will always have love.  If you have a circle of women, you will always have family.  If you don't have a man--you don't need one. What you need is a circle, a circle of women.

*This is a cross-post.  It is also on my personal blog.