Well, a lot has happened since we last checked in. I have been writing, but journaling instead of taking it public immediately. It’s a mix of wanting a more complete record of my life (there are always things I can’t write about publicly in real-time because they involve other people), and being frankly kind of embarrassed by what’s been going on in my life. I left my partner and moved to the Sunset, where I currently share a large living room with my friend Catherine.
What’s embarrassing is not so much moving across the country to start a life with a man and it not working out. I always knew that was a very distinct possibility. It’s more having spent years deluding myself about how this person felt about me. And all like, very publicly on Facebook and Twitter because you know that’s how I do. So now I’m dating again and I’m like, “Does he really like me or am I fooling myself again?” And it’s just really sad and strange to me that I would choose to invest in more than one person who I’m not sure really likes me. The thing about trying to make someone love you is that you begin to accept that you’re not lovable as you are. You begin to believe any story that explains how you’re acting. And how I was acting was insecure and codependent. Because I’d moved across the country to a new city and had to get used to a new way of working and make new friends and also contend with the fact that the person I gave up my whole life to be with and who is supposed to love me is acting like I’m an inconvenience. What’s embarrassing is that I did not immediately leave when he couldn’t be bothered to do what needed to be done to make sure I wasn’t spending all day alone working around piles of his trash. There were several bright neon signs blaring, “This person does not really care about you.” But I was not ready for that message. So instead I just started caring less about myself in order to match. As I began to see myself through his eyes I began to see myself as less than I am.
I can’t tell you how grateful I am to not be doing that anymore. I can’t tell you how drastically my feelings about the situation have changed in a very short period of time.
Meanwhile, my housing writing has gone horribly. I’ve been trying to incorporate more storytelling, but I’m bad at it. So it’s just been me writing several very long pieces that are not worthy of publication. I’m proud of myself for challenging myself but damn I miss being good at things.
I did finally get one published though. Could a Housing Bill Fight Segregation in San Francisco? Need to keep this momentum going and start working on the next one. Baby steps toward improvement.