Being Butch

I grew up a tomboy - I loved to run around outside because it kept me out of the house. I was tough and strong and no one wanted to play with me. I didn't have any friends but my brother did so, I tried to hang out with my brother's friends. Being pre-adolescent boys, they wanted nothing to do with me. They tried to get rid of me by hiding and avoiding me. When I did find them they threw rocks at me to keep me away from them. I just made a game of dodging rocks that were thrown at me. I was willing to put up with anything to be accepted. I don't think I ever got hit but they eventually let me hang out with them. A little.

The friend I had at school was my friend because I beat up a boy for her. They were teasing her because she wore glasses and I scared him into leaving her alone.

I learned to excel in school - I got awards for things like reading the most books - and I got attention for doing well at first. Then it became expected and this little rush of attention became a lifetime burden.

I had a few boyfriends along the way - cute 6th grade crushes and that sweet Drew boy that played the electric guitar and sang to me. We made out in the back of his pinto wagon and neither one of us knew what to do. Then my mom was murdered.

Murder changes everything. I replaced my childhood innocence with tough armor that kept everything out. A few months after her death and my 14th birthday I chose a 21 year old stoner boy to initiate me into womanhood. He was weak, he was stupid and he thought I was hot.

Since then it's been a stream of weak men. I remember when I told #2 "I can't do this anymore". I was asking for help, for some promise of something changing but what I got was "I know how you are when you make up your mind so how do you want to do this."

For a woman, that is like death. That is so weak and pathetic. We were together for 9+ years shouldn't I get more than "you've made up your mind"? How about "I know we've grown apart", "we still care about each other what can we do to fix it" or even " I know we've become different people but I'll always love you". Reach down between your legs and make sure they're still there! Just show up just a little bit!

Today the guys that show up are great guys. They have good values and honor me...and we become friends. They were attracted to my energy and my strength because they needed me to be their anchor. Sorry boys, I am not interested in being your anchor. Sure, I can be there for you but you have to show up enough to be there for me, too. If you want to be My Man you have to show up in spades. My man can weather my storms. He smiles right through them knowing that the sunshine is coming. He would never say "you've made up your mind".

Last night I was reading in bed when a girlfriend called. She's doing some real estate and we chatted about that then she asked me about her guy friend. He's in a divorce and he's bending over backwards to not have conflict and to make his ex very happy with the settlement. Which my friend really hates because it will affect her income for the next 5+ years. I told her that pleasing was a very feminine attribute. To which she replied " Oh, I am definitely the guy in the relationship. I am OK with that." "Well then, I replied, why are you mad that his ex is the guy in his last relationship?"

My model for marriage was pain.

That's all I saw from my parents.

I never saw any tenderness between them. They didn't hug or kiss or even lean in toward each other. My mom took care of the kids and my dad worked. When they were both in the house together they were in different rooms. On weekends, mom was inside and dad was outside. When they were together is when the arguments started; at the dinner table, in the car on the way to church. My parents didn't seem to like each other. I didn't even think of them as friends.

So, why did these two people live in the same house? They were so unhappy that we did everything we could to make them smile, to lighten the mood. We put on plays and learned to be cute and charming. We cared for their needs, we cheered them up. The love flowed from the kids to the parents, instead of the other way around. When we weren't making them happy we modeled their behavior in our fights and control. I picked up reading early as a welcome escape from the heaviness at home.

I even made up the "story" that it was my fault everyone was in so much pain! It just didn't make any sense that these two people would ever marry each other of their own volition. They must have been forced.

I am the oldest of four kids and I was born when my mom was 19. My parents did not celebrate their anniversary so I never really knew when they got married but, somewhere along the way, I just knew that they must have gotten married because they were pregnant with me. It was the only thing that made sense.

Years later I found out the date of my Aunt's wedding and - since it was a double marriage with my folks - that confirmed the "shotgun wedding" theory.

We learned in Sunday School that we chose our parents so why would I chose the ones I got? I obviously chose parents that didn't want me and that's why they didn't love me. It made sense. It was my fault that my parents were unhappy. They had to get married because mom was pregnant with me and God knew and was punishing me.

In my 30s, I went to visit my Aunt, Uncle and cousins because my cousin Joanna was getting married. Over dinner one night, my Uncle told the story of their wedding. When I asked about my parents I found out that my Aunt had not been married once, as I always believed but had been married twice. The first time was only for a year or so and two years later she married my Uncle. My parents had waited over a year before they got pregnant.

All those years I felt responsible for the pain. I made up stories to explain their unhappiness and emptiness. The things that didn't make any sense to me. What I understand today is that they chose the pain.

This is what I want my relationships to look like

I went back and was re-reading my post. I just love this picture.

They are content. They are relaxed. They are comfortable with each other.

I was walking in my neighborhood park in the rain. It was a misty rain, the kind that makes everything look magical. Rebel was off running and a kid rides up to share the shelter of the big redwood I was under. We both just stood there, looking into the mist.

He looks up at me, shaggy hair and big innocent eyes, and says, "copacetic".

The dogs are copacetic - very satisfactory or acceptable - and that's what I want my relationships to look, and feel, like.

Picture Analysis

I remember my first crush. He was 11 or 12 and I was 10 or 11. He had shaggy brown hair and blue eyes and he liked to show me how to do things on his family's farm. We rode on tractors and captured, killed and skinned moles. We played in the wheat silos until I got asthma real bad and had to go lie down.

We spent all day long running wild in the corn fields or down by the creek. Our hair got lighter and our skin darker as the summer wore on.

I liked his stories and the way he laughed and the adults noticed how well we got along. I couldn't admit that I liked him but I think they could see it.

There was one picture of us on a horse. We had been riding all over the farm, he in front and me behind. I felt hot being so close to him and was self conscious about being right up next to him. Touching him.

When I looked at the picture of us riding along so close, so intimate, I couldn't believe how awkward and silly I looked. My hips were right behind his but my chest was a foot away from him. I was as far away from him as I could get and still be on the horse. This was too close for me, touching a man, this was too intimate for me.

I have a great friend that's been married for 15+ years. They have beautiful kids and have achieved a lot in life - if you care about material stuff. Their photos look like my horse picture. She holds everyone away from her - even her husband.

After 15 years.

Look at your photos. Can you see the relationships in them? How far away do you keep people. Who do you put your back to and who do you hold close?