Here we are again....

I look longingly at the sweet morsels in the glass cabinet. I get to choose some today, but they aren't for me. My favourite is the pan au chocolat, but there aren't any there today anyway. The group at the office could enjoy raspberry, white chocolate, cinnamon brioche....

I collected my coffee and boxed up muffins, and headed back up the hill.

My knees groaned and I winced. I paused at the top of the hill to catch my breath.

Nyah has so lovingly packed a healthy lunch and a little container of nuts. I know that sugar is my downfall, and she is trying so hard to give me alternatives.

But I still struggle. My doctor says my blood sugar results are 'surprisingly good.' Surprisingly, because I am technically obese. My elevated heart rate is within the realms of normal, but would probably come down with better cardio vascular fitness and some weight loss.

But nothing seems urgent. The quarter of a cinnamon brioche and quarter of a raspberry and white chocolate muffin that found their way into my hands and into my mouth do not suggest a sense of urgency.

Back in 2012 and 2013 I weighed ten kilograms more, and struggled with self loathing because of it. I was tormented by a shape I didn't recognise and struggled with feminist ideals of body positivity vs not actually feeling like myself.

Now I feel more like myself than ever, yet my body is still trying to betray me.

I came to realise that the motivators around external validation and appearance held more weight (pun not intended) than very real health concerns. I don't have concerns about how I look, and am having fun with my appearance. But I took a panadol this afternoon to stop my back hurting, and I hobble when I get out of my chair to walk to the kitchen.

As I head towards being closer to my 'mid forties' than my 'early forties' my back, my knees, my heart are all telling me that I need to do something. I even have a loving partner to help me achieve it.

Why the resistance? Or not even resistance - a simple lack of will. Why do the motivators of appearance matter than the potential of reduced mobility and energy?

Maybe its time to look back to another part of 2012 where my therapist turned over rocks and found that lack of self care is linked to lack of self worth.

I might know myself better than ever before, but the question is, have I learned to love myself?

Being wrong helped me be better

I have always been a rule follower and a people pleaser. When I was about five years old I nicked a lolly from LD Nathan at the local shopping centre. I hid under my bed to eat it and was consumed by the guilt about what I had done.

It was a perfectly natural part of growing up. Push against the rules society has in place, and your conscience will guide you as to what is right. I knew I had done the wrong thing, and I felt so icky about it, I didn't do it again.

In my life to date, I generally have followed the rules - there was the odd wayward moment as a teenager, but given the standards I had set for myself, I didn't do too badly. I was an earnest Christian, so at the time being felt up by a boyfriend felt like a mortal sin, so never mind doing the stuff many teenagers were up to (experimenting with alcohol, drugs, sex...)

But a couple of problems started presenting themselves. The rules around me started changing, so the world in which I had signed up to a particular life wasn't the same world I was living in now.

That was partly me - as I met new people, my world expanded. I met people of different faiths, of no faith, who were sole parents, gay parents. All super, super smart. All very kind. And good.

Wait a minute...

In the past I'd tsk tsked at the gays, the single parents, the people who had sex with people they weren't married to (or going to marry) people who weren't married..... you get the picture.

And so I started questioning everything I had signed up to to date. Marriage. Babies. Being a stay at home parent for so long. When my mother took a controversial route out of this world, it started me on a long journey of wondering where I had been, where I was heading, and what rules applied any more.

Then I fell for her.... and I was in a right mess.

I had made a promise to someone else when I was 18 but at 37 I didn't want to keep the promise any more. What kind of person did that make me?

But was anyone a particular 'kind of person?' Or were we all just in a changing world in which we needed to adapt?

If I'd seen more lesbians as a teenager, would things have been different? If every single family I had contact with hadn't been a heteronormative, nuclear family, would things have been different? If I'd seen  same sex couples, single parents, working Mums in the world around me, would things have been different? If my mother hadn't spat "You aren't queer, are you?" at me in an accusatory fashion, would things have been different?

I can take responsibility for my choices, but the broader issue is that choices are determined by social norms, social standing, circumstances. 2013 was a very different world to 1994, but I was still expected to keep a promise I made when I was little more than a child.

Everything could have been handled more sensitively. I am not sure turning the rules upside down immediately makes me a liar or a cheat. It makes me a human who found herself in a difficult situation where hurt was inevitable.

I think the answer to not making a promise you can't keep is to be realistic and careful about what you promise in the first place. Should we be placing ourselves in a position of absolutes, or is life more about ongoing negotiation and re-evaluation?

What are all the rules about? Who benefits from them? Are they kind? Are they fair? Do they really matter?

I had been in a cultural vacuum for so much of my life. That cultural vacuum was very definite about rights and wrongs. And you know what - definitive rights and wrongs have a high comfort factor. Everyone knows where they stand. If you don't fit in, you're in trouble. But you know what's what.

I have been wrong, but I am only human. Being wrong makes me more sympathetic to the people I used to judge.

Living outside the black and white box requires more energy. More negotiation. More weighing up. But I also think it has more capacity for kindness. Black and white rights and wrong often produce confused individuals who cannot see past not fitting in the box. Black and white rights and wrong produce punitive consequences that don't make anyone's life better. Black and white rights and wrongs stop dialogue and honest conversation and stifle growth. Black and white rights and wrongs reduce the capacity to see things beyond your own scope and beyond your own concept of righteousness. It stops you seeing the people behind the monochrome.

The world devoid of absolute black and white is far more scary, but it is anything but grey. It is bright in vivid colours, with love, with laughter, with tears, with challenge, with kindness.

It is a world full of life.

Don't read the comments

Unless you've been living under a rock for the past few years, you'll know about the movie Frozen. You'll definitely know the song Let it Go, and if you have small people in your life, you'll know about the heroines of the story, Elsa and Ana, and how the twist in the plot was that true love with a handsome prince was not the happily ever after we thought we'd get.

Frozen is headed for an (inevitable) sequel, and the Twitterverse has gone nuts asking for Elsa (who seems to be the most popular of the two leads) to have a happy ever after with another woman with the hashtag #giveelsaagirlfriend.





And then it started.... The Comments.

"Oh God. Do we really need to shove that down the throats of kids?? That's far beyond the mind of a 7 year old. They're just watching the movie. That's a teen/tween concept. Let kids be kids and innocent.
I'll note that I'm not against gay or lesbian couples and have several friends who are."

"As much as the awareness is great. But I don't want my four years old seeing this kind of stuff just yet. He's to young. He thinks kissing on movies is gross so I'm guessing seeing two girls kissing even grosser."

"I have nothing against being gay but do we really need to throw it in our kids faces the world is already confusing enough for them with out making one of the biggest Disney characters of their time gay just to confuse them more."

This idea that we must protect children from normal human relationships is more indicative of 'confusion' amongst adults than children. I'm sure children are puzzled about a great many things in life. And usually they cease to be puzzled once they have some facts. So, Elsa has a girlfriend? Some women have another woman as a partner, not a man. Oh...ok.

But let's just dig a little deeper. What is everyone afraid of, really? Comments about kids keeping their 'innocence' in the face of a bit of benign Disney romance suggests people have fears about something else.

If I think back to when I was 'tsk tsk'ing about the gays in my church youth group days, what was it I was really tsk tsking about?

The sex.

Yup. 

We even had a stupid little hand signal that symbolised that two penises or two vaginas didn't belong together.

I don't remember a discussion about the evils of deep intimacy.
I don't remember a discussion about how filthy it was to wrap yourself in the arms of the person who knew you better than anyone.
I don't remember a discussion about how gross it was to share every day with your best friend.

Because everyone has fetishised the sex. 

We have to keep the innocents safe from the sex.
We can't have kids thinking that anyone has sex...let alone gay people!

I don't think kids are confused. Kids just accept things that adults accept. Two girls are the lead couple in a Disney film. Whatever. They probably will only care what colour the dress is.

When it comes to confusion, I think that comes down to the adults. Adults are confused about what constitutes a relationship. Adults are confused about how being gay isn't just about who you are having sex with. Its about relationships. Its about love. Its about boring shit like picking curtains and taking out the rubbish. Its about sharing things that nobody else knows. Its about trusting that person with that.

The more kids know that you can do that with a man or a woman, the happier everyone will be. 

40

My beloved is on the other side of the world, and yesterday I didn't manage that very well.

Every bit of relationship advice (especially for lesbians!) warns against living in each other's pockets. It says you have to have your own identities, your own interests, your own friends.

I shouldn't be so 'attached.'

I shouldn't be so 'dependent.'

I was on the verge of tears most of the day, but I had to let it happen, and examine why I felt this way.

Was it just because I was missing her? Or was it more about being alone shining light on my own insecurities and it was very, very uncomfortable?

So I worked through it.

Early on in our relationship, when it was still secret, there were a couple of times that she went off on holidays with her then partner, and the unease was palpable. It was a part of what pushed us to leave and be together. "Comfortable with you, uncomfortable without you" was how we described it.

So while Nyah is overseas working, learning, experiencing all sorts of wonderful things, I am still here doing the day to day stuff. I don't feel jealous. Not at all. I think what I feel is that she has stepped out of my world for a while, and I feel a bit lost at sea.

Nyah is a strong personality. She has a clear identity and is so very sure of who she is. And what she is doing on the other side of the world is no more than she deserves after years of hard work, and fits with her skills and aptitudes. And its food on our table. Another tension in my mind after pushing against all the patriarchal norms of being 'looked after.' I vehemently want to be an equal partner in the financial management of our household, but simply do not have the means to be.

I realised that my discomfort while she is absent isn't to do with her absence. Its to do with feeling despondent about being 40 and cobbling together three part time jobs to make enough money to pay the rent and not much else. I read just tonight that how I'm feeling at this time in my life is a symptom of Imposter Syndrome.

How many of you feel discouraged when surrounded by people with incredible accomplishments, not jealous or envious, but sad that you haven’t done much with your life? 

I read this and thought YES! YES! This is it exactly!!

I have friends who will point out the time I have spent with my children is a lot to have done with my life. And they'd be right. But as I talked about in another post, the investment, particularly the emotional investment, in spending time with small children and not being in the paid workforce, is desirable, noble, well meant. But in our world - a consumerist, capitalist society - its at odd with a society that values money making productivity over all else.

Love doesn't put food on the table.

I sit alongside children struggling with learning every day. I get paid close to minimum wage to do it. I have to tag two other jobs onto that time, because nobody gets paid to work with at risk children for longer than 16 hours a week. Its an 'honourable' job. I look into the eyes of children who's parents are disenfranchised, disengaged, disinterested, desperate, and tell them I believe in them. I love their stories. I find them something to eat when there's nothing in their cupboards. I hope with desperate hope that forming a relationship with the boy who has already pushed two of his classmates by 9:30 in the morning will be something he can carry into what seems to be a hopeless future.

Nobody gets paid much to hope, though. 

Nobody wants to pay anyone to relate to anyone else unless there's money to be made.

Nyah's training and extensive experience has given her a mixture of using the right skills, tools, and most importantly, her humanity to be able to make a difference.. It might be that she has to do that under the umbrella of a corporate overlord, but that fact remains that she knows how, and she can.

So yes...I miss Nyah dreadfully. I go through our bedtime routine of turning off the light and rolling over and the nothingness makes my heart drop. But she will be home soon, fired up with all the learning she has done and thinking about how to make that work for everyone she talks to for her job.

I want that for me, too. I want to be able to afford to house and feed my children without help. I want an identity that is outside being someone's Mum or partner or wife. And I want it to be somewhere and in something that helps others. Helps the disenfranchised, disengaged, disinterested and desperate. Maybe it has to be making money for someone else. But if I can bring hope and courage to one person, then its worth it.

All that relationship advice about not being joined at the hip is about independence. Well, whatever. I am proud to be in a relationship with someone who is constantly thinking about people's stories, people's relationships, and how they bring out the best in people.

If Nyah can work her way to a place where those things matter, and those things pay a decent wage, then so can I!

My values are firm but the next step is to make a living from them.

This is my year.