A peach, a plum, a half a stick of chewing gum....
A peach, a plum, a half a stick of chewing gum and if you want the other half, this is what you say…
I’ve decided this summer that I’m giving up on peaches. Nectarines are much more reliable. I’ve noticed that peaches are often mealy, unflavorful. Too often I bite into one, hopeful for a rush of sweetness and juice and the taste of summer. I’m expecting joy, but I get disappointment. So, I (half jokingly) have declared that I am just going for nectarines from now on. I have not had one bad nectarine all summer. I don’t care if people think I’m being weird or rigid or picky. I am choosing pleasure. Reliable pleasure.
My partner makes fun of me that my nectarine declaration is part of, what he calls, my “pre-emptive strikes.” He has noticed for a long time that I have a tendency to ask things like, “I need to know what time you are coming to bed so I can know if we are going to have time to connect before I fall asleep or not.” To me, waiting, hoping he may be on my same evening rhythm involves much anticipation. If I am ready for bed and waiting for him, but he is still working or too fried, it feels like a big disappointment or rejection. But if I know in advance that we are not synched up, then I won’t get my hopes up and I won’t be mad at him (misplaced blame from my disappointment around our not getting to connect). I’ll just do what I want to do on my own. It’s just being responsible, right?
On one hand pre-emptive strikes and my nectarine declaration are protection against disappointment. But they are also strategies towards noticing and going after what I want. They are small desires, but to me, noticing even these small desires is a win.
I’m working on goals. Dreams. Desires.
I struggle with all of these things. I attribute a lot of my difficulty with knowing what I want to my socialization as a female. I was raised, as most girls are, with the societal and familial expectations to take care of others, please others (especially your parents), make things easier for those around me. We are expected to be kind and nice.
I fell for that training. In my environment, the messages, the stakes were high enough that I understood that bucking the system was not workable. I am always jealous of those people I know, especially women, who have always had a sense about the bullshit they were raised up in. I didn’t have that sense. I was hook line and sinker. But it’s okay… I figured it out eventually and have been healing, recovering, kicking ass and speaking up ever since.
As a working mom there are a lot of demands on my time, my attention, my space, my stuff, my body. It often feels impossible to carve out time or space for me. But even when I do, then I have to face that I don’t even know what I want.
This is my reclaiming project. I’m working my way up to visions, big picture life changes, 5 year plans. But for now, noticing what I desire, even when I can’t have it, is a win. This is my journey. Knowing what I want, one piece of fruit at a time.
