How Dating Joy is Going
Well, It's a Little Awkward
Hey, you. In my last blog, I talked about my desire to be in a relationship with Joy. Before you panic, I’m still in my relationship with Pain. I could never leave Pain. I’ve built a resilient identity around it. I’ve bore babies through it. It is the foundation of my ancestral history. Pain and I are pretty much bound for life. I mean once you say, “I do!” right? Pain and I have decided to have an open marriage and invite Joy into our emotional bed. This won’t be quite the steamy polyamorous read that Dossie Easton and Janet Hardy would probably approve of but hopefully it will still be worth the read. It will be ethical just less slutty, I guess.
Ever since I told you that I wanted a relationship with Joy, I’ve noticed how suddenly I’ve been presented with opportunities to find it. Some of them have been soft and subtle while others have been hidden in weeds and thorns somewhere. The Universe is funny that way. When you make a proclamation it immediately sort of steers the ship in a new direction. In my head-movies it looks like a dramatic fight between a married couple. I say I want something different while the Universe throws all kinds of things at my head while screaming, “Is this what you want? You want this? Here, take it. And take this! And this! Just remember that you asked for it!” In reality I think it’s nothing more than the Universe punching in a few things on a computer and saying, “Okay. We’ve diversified your life portfolio and now you should be getting more returns on this instead of that, but you know it still has to ride the state of the market along the way.” Right now I’d say the market is a little unstable.
The longevity of Joy is so unfamiliar to me. I’ve only known Joy in short bursts. Pain I recognize immediately. Pain has worked its way into every fiber of my being, ‘from my hair follicle to my toe nails,’ as Jill Scott would say. For that reason, I’ve actually had to search for Joy by way of Pain. I’m having to remap the way my brain interprets a situation. You might see it as the bright side or glass half-full approach but for me it’s not that simple. When your eyes have adjusted to the dark, the last thing you want is for someone to suddenly turn on the switch. Your first instinct is to say, “Turn off the lights!” You tell me how to measure the level of liquid in a cup you can’t even see through? No, I have to let Pain lead me to Joy because it’s the thing I recognize and relate to instantly. So that’s what I’ve been doing.
We recently went on vacation with our extended family on my husband’s side.
We decided to do a Zoo day. It’s always fun to watch the kiddos (and let’s be honest, the adults) light up at the opportunity to see animals you would never see otherwise. Our easy Zoo day was anything but. There were parking issues, meet-up problems, hangry moments. It was a comedy of errors. At the beginning my nervous system was all kinds of triggered. My inner critic/gremlin was so talkative, “Not parking in the right place means a different meet-up location which is going to throw everything off. Not everyone arrived on time which is going to screw up the time allotted for this excursion. Now people are hungry because of the late start time. Are you even going to see any animals at all? What a disaster.” This might sound stupid to you but I had to take deep breaths. At some point I had to smile and laugh even though I didn’t want to. I had to make my body do the physical actions of Joy so I could find it. When we stopped to get a snack, I forced myself to specifically eat that Zoo’s version of Dole Whip, not because it was refreshing but because it was a treat. A treat like that is associated with a child and that’s who I needed to find in that moment. I needed little Angel to come out and play because throughout my life, she’s the person I think has been robbed of Joy the most. By the time we left the Zoo I was laughing at everything. When is a gathering of human beings not a little bit like herding cats? How wonderful to have a family that actually wants to be together, that makes a commitment to be together, that can be together? In the dumpster fire climate that is America right now, I’d say that’s pretty freaking spectacular. That’s what I carried with me for the rest of the trip and it was lovely. Then we got home. It was back to summer camp for one kid, pre-season sports for the other one, sustaining a leg injury at the gym, repeated piles of laundry on the bed because of my husband’s obsession with laundry (literally. He has OCD and can’t help it), constantly being the one to hand wash the pots/pans, planning dinners, managing schedules, and oh yeah…tending to my creative career.
Finding Joy within the routines of home is like watching those 3 little dots as you wait for someone to respond back in a text. The moment those 3 dots go away, holy hell! “They must be writing a long response back. Hmm, maybe they just got interrupted. Really, you’re just not going to respond? Are they mad at me? Did I say something that offended them? They should at least tell me. You know what, fuck them if they’re not going to be straight with me. Oh, they just responded. Nevermind. Ha, that was a funny meme,” (oh, don’t you even act like it’s just me). As I was saying, I’ve had to did a little deeper to find Joy within the mundane. It’s pretty cool to watch both of my children enjoy their summer. They get to be just kids. That’s a luxury and a privilege these days. How fortunate I am to have health insurance so I can go see my doctor and make sure there’s nothing nefarious going on with my leg. The feeling after putting all the clothes and linens away makes me feel more organized and keeps me from falling into the pitfalls of clutter that grips the maternal side of my family. The warm water from the dishes feels good and is actually quite calming. To keep it real, the majority go in a dishwasher anyway which again is a luxury. Washing dishes by hands reminds me of when my Aunt Mattie taught me how to do so right before I entered Junior High. In many ways it’s a touch stone to her just like cooking. She was a phenomenal cook and when I make a good dinner I often wish I could share it with her, to see what she would think. Working on my show and writing this week’s mess to you means I have a creative career worth tending to. As an artist, that is a life line.
I believe this new exploration is just what I need to grow into the next level of who I want to be. In my declaration; my choosing Joy, I’ve seen subtle confirmations. Suddenly positive videos or talks are popping up in between the doom and gloom on my social feeds. Lately I’ve been developing more pride in myself since I finished reading 'The Fire Next Time’ by James Baldwin. I told my husband I was in search of my next read and he pulled out a book from his pile called ‘Atomic Habits’ by James Clear. It’s apparently wildly popular but I’d never heard of it. I’m on chapter 3 and can already tell I was meant to read this book too in this moment. Thank goodness I’m the kind of person who believes in expansion and the ability to change so I can leave this world and the beautiful people in my life better than when I was gifted them.
Pain, Joy and I are not a steamy ménage á trois of sorts. No one is having some type of radical orgasm yet. When we invite the other emotions along, I don’t know what type of orgy will ensue, probably not one that turns anyone on I imagine. However, I am actively searching for happiness. I believe it’s overdue. I deserve it and definitely little Angel deserves it and I am nothing if not a woman of her word.
**Everything I write comes from my personal insights and has all the drippings of my opinions, biases, and what-nots. Rather than come for me with facts or judgements to contradict my said opinions, biases and what-nots, I’d rather you find a different blog that makes you happy. If you find these posts therapeutic or helpful in anyway that means we connected and it’s all I can ask for, however I’m not a therapist nor a coach. I’m just a writer floating words out there hoping they find the person they are intended for.