Sometimes she hates me - that's natural for teenagers. And sometimes I am her best friend - but I shouldn't be. That's a job for one of her peers, not her mom. Yet I love her and like her (cause she's interesting and brilliant and creative and kind but sarcastic so it's not a gooey, sticky-sweet kind of "kind" - more like a "zing from across the table" kind because you know she only teases those that she likes. Why waste intellectual energies on someone you don't even care for?) and want only good things for her. If I can make her happy and it merely takes my presence and some time, by gosh, I can do that!
She's been creating these fabulous fan-fics on Halo characters and has some in the works for her favorite JLA characters next... she is SO cool! We spent the evening at the art museum, discussing what "art" is (and isn't), what "craftsmanship" is, and what crap is. We had a lovely time, pointing and going "hey, look at that!" and leaning (far too) close to the cases to absorb the details and reading the description plates. We walked leisurely through the shop, testing the toys and flipping through the posters, looking at the beautiful books and stationary, joking about some of the very expensive jewelry that looked like a first grader made it. In shorter terms, we had a ball. I especially appreciated her enthusiasm for the arms and armor section in the medieval rooms. - Never saw her crane her neck that way in front of a porcelain vase or a watercolor. Heh. My little girl.
Hm. Let's take that term and break it down. If someone referred to me as their "little girl", I'd think they were stupid. I am neither little nor a girl any longer. Mul has the right (by biased preference) to call me his girl or "the" girl in his life, but that's more like a "grrl" reference. Like in Gamer Grrl. My daughter, being thirteen years old now, is not exactly little anymore. She's nearly adult - give or take a few legal years. This is the point of her serious woman-training. Now is the time that she becomes prepared for sanity-rending heartbreak, disappointment in the truth, learns that neither of her parents (nor anyone else she admires and believes in) is either perfect or immortal, AND deals with the most awkward physical phase of her life. Sheesh! Wouldn't any one of these things be enough to bring a good person down?
I love my daughter. I wouldn't want anything to harm her. That's why I have to let her get hurt once in a while by the natural stages of life that won't permanently impair her. No, I don't want her to be involved in a nasty car accident and Yes, I would avoid the situation completely if I could help it. But that is not up to me. If a car accident is in the works for her, I want her to be confident in her abilities, cool-headed enough to deal with a crisis, thoughtful about other people and creatures to care for their welfare, and aware in situations that can result in damage so that she can come to decisions (on her own) that result in less strife that if she had chosen some other direction. She's a very bright kid (and I use that term endearingly) and I hope she chooses wisely in all things - but that's not going to happen. Using another example: I don't want her love life to be messy - wouldn't we all be happier finding the perfect person in high school and marrying them after college to endure 75 years of wedded bliss? (Too perfect, I know, it can't happen.) Most people don't get it right in their first serious relationship. So I will bite my tongue and hold my breath and beat my head against the walls to not say the exactly wrong things as she moves from whatever relationship she did have for a while to the next one, no matter how much one seemed better over another to me. (Ugh, I'm going to eat those words later, aren't I?)
I fell in love a couple of times - at least I thought I had. Decisions are made for lots of reasons, and sometimes for no good reason at all. The first time I thought of myself as loving a man, he was heroically masculine, protective, mysterious, full of laughter, a great lover and kind of boyish when alone and allowing himself to seem vulnerable. Nice mix, huh? It took a long time to see that he was this way with all women - not that he flirted around or cheated on me. He simply had that persona "on" all the time. When he was with "the guys" he was drunk or high, too talkative about personal things, ready for a fight (physically); in short - a wound-up misogynist waiting for a trigger to be pulled. I left him (or he left me) because I didn't want the lies (no matter how attractive) and I didn't want him the way he really was. I wanted him as he seemed (or had seemed to be) - all virtuous and manly and concerned about honor. Ah well... a friend of mine got him - then divorced him to marry his former best friend. Not what I would have wished for anybody much less this man I had once admired. He wasn't a bad guy, don't get me wrong. He just set himself up so high in his own standards that he couldn't compete with his image once he came back to earth with his buddies.
The next time I wondered if I was in love it took a long time to admit it. You see, he and I had years together... dating and seeing each other through college... me healing from my previous relationship and him being doormat enough to care for my selfish feelings - letting me dictate when we could see each other and what we were allowed to do. I know he loved me or he wouldn't have respected me so much as to allow that to happen. I was awful to him, I just didn't recognize it at the time. Then, we had a baby - oops. Yes, that would be the precious thirteen-year-old. We waited several years to make sure that we were not marrying simply for the "sake of the baby" or succumbing to our parents' pressure. Then, once we were married, we seemed happy for a year (maybe more).
In that second year though... I don't know what happened and when. If I wanted to bring up what I thought was an important subject, he could veto it, choosing NOT to talk about it because we couldn't agree on what was important (like money issues, vacation as a family, his satisfaction or lack thereof at his job, health problems, the relationship between him and his daughter). At least we agreed that his relationship with his daughter WAS one of the important subjects and he worked on that diligently. Because their relationship is so improved, I wonder if my relationship with her has suffered. But I digress. During this unpleasant time, I found myself falling in like and then in love with Mul. A frightening prospect - me, tempted to see this man who was not my husband. We were only together in social situations as first, surrounded by other friends. Then our discussions became more about our lives and wishes, art and pleasantries than just our common hobby.
It took me many months to find my lopped off head much less screw it back on. Between giving up my marriage and increasing the time between me and the "other man", I was going crazy. I tried talking to a lot of friends and family members, not the least of which had been my spouse. But his answer was a very distracted one, fed by his insecurities about his parents' marriage. So there I was, condemned by all (including myself) and yet blissfully happy in Mul's presence. It wasn't a fair situation for anybody, especially my spouse. He tried (just the once) to ask if there was any repairing our relationship/marriage. I told him that it would be too little and too late. Perhaps that was cruel of me, but BY GOD I meant it. I had attempted to engage him so many times over those six months or more to talk to me, get counseling with me, let me go to counseling without him if he insisted, whatever could help us. That's what I ended up doing... going to counseling for myself, hoping to make any sense of my feelings and my intentions. Why did I want to leave my husband? I didn't really - I just wanted him to act, talk and be different. That's hardly fair for a decent guy to answer to... he never faked anything for me. He simply wanted certain things less than I did and felt that his answers were the best ones (if not the only ones).
Now Mul... there's a mensch! None of these men were poor picks on my part. They were all attractive, intelligent, creative, manly (in their own ways), and giving (to a certain point). But Mul is my soul mate... at least he has been since I met him. Six years, nearly... we're getting married in May. I'm extremely nervous about it. I'm terrified that he's making a big mistake. I'm hoping that I am not sabotaging his life by chaining him down. I want to be a woman who deserves his thoughtfulness, kindnesses, attention, efforts to make me laugh, his touch... I could definitely go on. I just don't know if I am familiar enough with that woman well enough to become her.
Thus my comment on who my daughter will one day want to be - what kind of a woman she will become. How do any of us know how to grow up? What class is taught or lesson learned that teaches us who we will be? Am I now an honest person? Not completely - not all the time... but I would like to be. Am I virtuous and classy and kind and thoughtful? No, not necessarily. My porn preference fights the debate against virtue and class very nicely, and I prefer to be selfish and self-absorbed... it takes a lot less effort than thinking about what other people want or are affected by. Do I deserve Mul? No. That's the easy answer. Why not? Much harder.
I love him, that's all I know.
