Music heals the soul

Last night, I attended that concert solo and had a great time. Unexpectedly. Haha.

I did not think I'd have such a good time by myself.  I thought I would be self-conscious the whole time. I anticipated feeling awkward, uncomfortable, and embarrassed to be alone.  But I actually didn't feel any of those things. On a few occasions, when friends texted to ask where I was and who I was hanging out with, I felt a twinge of embarrassment to say: "concert! i'm going solo."Did people need to know that this is my favorite R&B group EVER and that I would go with or without a bunch of people? Did I need to explain that I kinda chose to go alone, and that it's not a reflection of me being loser-y?

I thought about these questions before answering, and each time, I felt stronger and stronger when I decided not to explain myself to anybody.  I'm going to a concert, solo, people. It's not that big of a deal. I'm not going to blow it out of proportion to make it representative of anything else other than me going out for a good time with or without others.

In the end, I had an amazing time.  I had a really great seat, I felt very comfortable singing, watching, crying (to the songs), and dancing to the music. I felt very connected to the power of the music. I knew  all of the lyrics, and as I sang along, I re-played in my head, lots of dreams, hopes, and disappointments about my love life.

Ironically, this band is the one that I have listened to throughout my life. Their music set-the-stage for my expectations about love. Their music validated my pain when people fell out of love with me. Their music captures so much of my childhood, adolescent years, and even now, in my adulthood.

In the midst of the concert, I realized that for my birthday one year, perhaps when I turned, I had asked Robert for one of their CDs. He had haphazardly tossed that CD to me on the night of my birthday, outside of my house, unwrapped and with the "Best Buy" price tag still on it. He refused to come in for birthday cake that night, saying that he had too much homework to do and needed to get home.  It was humiliating, and insulting, and I was so disappointed. My family was waiting for him inside so we could all cut the cake together. He didn't care. He left.

Another time, about 3 years ago, I dated an asshole guy, Frank, who was not only emotionally unstable, but also verbally abusive. It was a terrible relationship, and I always had to drive one hour out of my way to see him. In the end, I broke up with him because I simply could not tolerate him anymore. That didn't make the break up easier, though.  What helped was listening to the music of this boy band and crying-- very hard-- in those 60 minute drives until all the pain, heartache, and anger flowed out of my system.

Music has healed my soul for so long, and I feel that much more empowered from the concert last night. I re-lived memories of previous relationships. I realized how much my expectations have been shaped by musical lyrics, which sometimes can be unrealistic. And I also became aware of how content I am these days, without a romantic partner to rely on, depend on, or impose those lyrics. Being alone in that huuuge auditorium with hundreds of people, made me realize that I am not alone, and that I am more connected to every thing and everyone when I am not in a relationship.  At least for now, this is the best thing I can do for myself, and I want to continue to empower myself, learn more about myself, and get healthier before I jump into anything remotely romantic ever again.

I walked out of the auditorium last night, feeling so proud of myself.  So proud of me.  I did it. I attended a concert alone and I felt great. My friends, who happened to be downtown texted to ask if I wanted to stop by and get a drink with them. That made my night even better, knowing that I can do things alone by myself, and also have great friends who I can hang out with just a few blocks away whenever I want to (literally and figuratively).

These days, I have no regrets, whatsoever.

Running away

Hi, I'm back.

I know, bad blogger, bad blogger.

Last week, with all that happened, I ran away from journaling, writing, reflecting, or even being mindful.  I couldn't stand to have a pity-party. And I really did not want to feel angry, either. So I decided to stop thinking altogether.

Instead, I threw myself into surviving the week and pretending B. never re-appeared back into my life.  I busied myself with planning Mr. Z's birthday party (yes, I did throw him a bday party), which required cleaning my house, baking a doggy-cake from scratch, buying actual cakes for the humans who are coming, and getting all sorts of party supplies for the big day.

Celebrating Mr. Z's bday got me through the week.  As Penny would day, "Look, he's saving you from B. again."

As absurd as it sounds to throw a birthday party for your dog, I did it!  I judged myself quite harshly throughout the process, and also ridiculed myself in the privacy of my own thoughts.  Here I am, someone who used to fear dogs and to mock those who carted their puppies everywhere.  And now, I am on the other side of the fence, doing exactly what I would have laughed at, merely a year ago.

Wait, who am I again?

But then I remind myself that this is how I love.  Throwing a party for Mr. Z. is not that different from when I threw B. a surprise birthday party 2 years ago.  Being in the foul mood that he was in, and considering he has 0 friends, I invited a group of my pals over for dinner.  He wanted to cook, so I assisted while he showed-off his skills.  I asked Penny to bring over an expensive ice cream cake and I prepared candles so we can surprise him after dinner.  The entire event went off without a hitch, and he was so pleasantly surprised.  It was quite wonderful to make someone happy and it made me feel like I was soaring on cloud now!  Until.... everyone left.  When the party ended, he wanted to alcohol, stat.  That's what happens when he got happy.  ALCOHOL! And when he got sad? ALCOHOL!  And of course, without a car, he wanted me to drive him to pick up liquor. 

Now, for me, there are few things I hate doing.  But liquor runs?

I DETEST liquor runs. 

I feel cheap going on liquor runs and I personally don't like the effect of excessive alcohol in people.  The entire night went from wonderful to bitter.  I ended up driving him to pick up alcohol and dropping him off at home.  I came back alone to my apartment and did all the cleaning up that you do after a party.  We had already yelled and screamed and there was just exhaustion and more exhaustion.  Ah, memories of that party.  How bitter that was, and not at all sweet.

This year, I was so happy to throw a party for Mr. Z. and to clean up for him afterwards.  We sang a birthday song (at my request), we ate cake, we cut his cake, we opened presents, and we laughed at me and this event that I made everyone come for. 

It was absolutely strange and fun!  And when it ended, it was still wonderful and that was a healing experience for me.  It was so reparative to know that I can love and give again, and not be damaged in return.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Mr. Z!

Thank you for coming into my life!

This is just the 1st of many more celebrations to come! :)

Am I worthy of celebrating?

My friends are planning a birthday dinner for me tonight. We decided on this event late Thursday night and in less than 48 hours, they got a celebration planned.  I don't really know who will show up considering a) the late notice, and b) it's not even my birthday today.  My actual birthday is next week, but since I'll be out of town visiting family, I'm doing it now because of how crunched my schedule looks later this month.

This birthday party is pretty meaningful for me.  Born into a birthday-loving family, I am a birthday lover myself. In my family, when we celebrate someone's birthday, we give them the entire month rather than just the day. Which means that October has always been MY month.  November is my dad's month. February is my brother's month. And my mom has complete and total ownership of May because it's her birthday month AND mother's day.

With this background of having month-long laughter, fun, celebrating, and hugging to celebrate birthdays, I always dreamed of sharing such joyous occasions with my partner one day. But throughout my dating history, all of my ex-boyfriends have epically failed on my birthday. (Meanwhile, I plan huge shindigs for them-- which I would do no matter what! because that's what birthdays are! They are a celebration of love, recognition, and appreciation that THIS person exists in this world)

An example? My first boyfriend sucked at birthdays.  He didn't even come to the front door when he came to my house. My family and I had just gotten home from dinner and were about to cut the cake. He called from his car and told me to come outside. There in the backyard, standing next to two jumbo trash cans, he tossed me a Motown CD that still had a price tag on it. He said a quick happy birthday and left. He said he was so busy that he couldn't even come into the house to have a slice of cake.  He refused to stop in to even say hi to my family.

Still, B. tops the chart for being worst boyfriend on birthday.  He used "culture" as an excuse, and says that in Eastern Europe, people don't celebrate birthdays.  In fact, sons and daughters used to hammer their parents on the head (yes! with an actual hammer!) because that's what old age brings. Parents don't want to burden their children in their senior state, so that's what birthdays are really about.  Hammers and murder, apparently.

So, throughout our dating history, B. never really acknowledged birthdays or celebrated them (other than his own!).  He never took me out to dinner, never got me a cake, never got me a present (not even a sentimental one), and never even wished me a real happy birthday-- other than to mock me and to label it an "American concept."  For my last 2 birthdays, he succeeded in raining on my parade with his INaction.  When I had a small birthday gathering the first time, he went out of town. When he came back, he gave me a small box of mints and didn't even mention that I was one year older! The second year, he was even more explicit, declaring he didn't want to have dinner with my friends and I, and choosing to stay home instead.

It's quite ironic. In my head, I always thought a wonderful birthday celebration meant being with the ones you loved.  That's all I want, really.  To be surrounded by friends, family, and my partner, and to eat together, laugh together, and to share time together.  No presents necessary.  Just come together, all of you, so I can see you all at the same time, and spend some precious time with you.

So I feel different now.  I don't really know what to think about celebrating MY birthdays anymore because its just depressing these days.  My nature is to have it big, loud, fun, and over-the-top.  But I date jerks who treat it like any other day and who can't be bothered to spend time with me or those I love.  It was difficult for me to decide on having this dinner tonight, because part of me has been contaminated by their apathy.  Part of me wants to close my eyes and let the day pass by.  Let this month pass my.  Let me existence pass by, and let this life pass by.  I no longer feel like it's anything to celebrate because because as history can prove: I am not worthy of being celebrated.

Which is why this birthday dinner tonight is pretty meaningful.  It means I'll work hard NOT to be influenced by the apathetic, the hurtful, and unapologetic. I will maintain my enthusiasm for life and for celebrating with those I love. Even though I feel like I am sucked dry of positive energy, I will try to have some degree of self-worth for myself. I will believe I'm worthy of being celebrated. I want to focus my energy and appreciation to those who want to celebrate with me.  I will strive to be grateful, happy, and inspired to have so many loved ones around me who care enough to want to be with me tonight.  Because I haven't felt that in quite a long time.