Wednesday 15 August 2012

Waiting is an 'action' verb

As I wait for the time when I can see my partner again (a month or so... And then another month before I can move in with him) I have gone through many different stages... Mainly unpleasant, frustrating and conflictive ones.

I have always taken pride in the fact that I don't shy away from a challenge - in fact, I like complicated situations that push me to do more than I usually do - I am a hopeless workaholic and I always try to do the best that I can... But when it comes to 'waiting'... Ah, that's my weak spot.

I always thought that waiting was a passive state in which you were helpless, completely at the mercy of the universe without the possibility to actually do anything. I would feel frustrated and anxious, clenching my jaw constantly without realizing it, feeling all my muscles tense and my mind racing, obsessing with all the possible outcomes. No matter what I was doing and despite the fact that I work from dusk till dawn (and later), my hyperactive mind didn't seem to know how to stop.

Today I realized something. Waiting is not a passive thing. Waiting for something is fostering, or rather protecting the hope you harbor for something. Beyond what you do to achieve your goal, sometimes it's more important to keep that hope safe, like a little light inside you. Despair is a very powerful feeling when you let it in, and it will quickly tarnish your hope turning into premature grief. That is what makes waiting hard, the constant thought that your wish won't come true, that all your work will go to waste.

How about making sure it won't?

Even if, in the end, things don't turn out the way you wanted them to, it doesn't mean that you can just sit and watch your hope be swallowed by those dark feelings (frustration, fear, despair). There is something you can do while you wait. Something of utmost importance and that requires action. Keep that hope alive. It's not easy. It takes a lot of work. But it's worth it. And it can be done.

Sunday 12 August 2012

Behind a broken heart

In secondary school, I had this Physics teacher who had a very interesting way of explaining the concept of 'broken'. He would take a wrinkled piece of paper out of his briefcase, smooth it out, crumple it up again and say "there, I broke it". He explained that breaking something doesn't necessarily mean tearing it up in pieces, but rather changing it in a way that it cannot be brought back to its original shape.

This made the whole 'heartbreak' concept a lot easier to understand for me. While there are many causes for this (a breakup, a disappointment, the death of someone), the result is the same: you are left with a void-like feeling in your chest that makes you feel surrounded by darkness and despair.

After that, you will never be the same again... And that is not always a bad thing.

Instead of thinking of a heart as something rigid and fragile, like glass, I think it's more like dough. It constantly changes its shape and morphs depending on who touches it and how they do so. Still, if you give it to someone who modifies it into something you don't like or that hurts you, you cannot mold it back to the way it was before, no matter how hard you try... And why would you? Wouldn't it be more fun to find a new shape you might like even more?

When I see it this way, it makes it easier for me to open up to people and be less afraid of being hurt. Of course, there will be times when I will feel pain but now I know it will just be an opportunity to see a new shape of my heart.





Saturday 11 August 2012

Rings, proposals and roles.

The Claddagh ring is my lucky charm.
The other my 'commitment' ring.
"So, I've been wondering," my boss said to me as he inspected my ring, "how does... how does it work with you guys? I mean, normally the guy proposes to the girl, but in your case there is no girl". At that moment, I actually found myself puzzling over this question, not being exactly in that situation. After thinking about it for a bit I could only answer "I guess it depends on the case!". 
There is someone at work who is waiting for his boyfriend to propose to him since they have talked about marriage (they have a long distance relationship and this way he would get residency in that country); he was present at the time and my boss looked at him and said "well, in your case it is pretty obvious he is proposing to you!"

While it was a funny comment and we all agreed, he might have actually be onto something. There are some couples in which the traditional gender-based roles are very entrenched. Just to clarify, gender roles are social constructs of what is 'masculine' and 'feminine'; while these two words are normally associated with male and female sex accordingly, they are not synonyms or necessarily fixed. A masculine woman is not, by definition, a butch woman who looks like she drives a big truck (the same goes for feminine men) - the concept is much wider than that. A man who stays at home and takes care of the children, a woman who pursues an engineering-related career, a man with an artistic streak - those are examples of characteristics which are not related to their mannerisms or physical appearance.

That being said, some gay couples are comfortable following this model - in which case, the one who takes on the masculine role is very likely to do the 'proposing'. But what about couples where roles are more flexible?

Well, I don't actually know. While the fairy tale idea of the prince getting down on one knee and the Hollywood chick-flick cliché of the jaw-dropping surprise proposal are very appealing, there aren't that many resources that show how 'most people do it'. 

In the end, it all comes down to that, doesn't it? How we have been taught by the media that 'it should be done'... But that does not mean that each couple can come up with their own way, right?