why is my reflection someone I don’t know?

I kept a journal when I was twelve, and I remember one day having an astounding (as it were to me at the time), epiphany about my dad was getting old, and that I should perhaps put a muzzle on my bratty, developing adolescent attitude, and in that moment of clarity, I put aside my own selfish feelings towards all the perceived injustices I had received, and saw him as a human being who was simply trying to do the best that he could, with what limited finances and resources he had. I saw that I did not show my understanding of what he did, telling myself that appreciation for his efforts were due, rather than the angry rebellion and uncomplimentary insults I had been paying him. Of course, this introspection lasted only as long as my scribbling did, and when the entry was complete, my magnanimous empathy had passed as well.

My mind is probably going to wander over the course of this…introspective session, as I have not yet gathered all my thoughts. But I wanted to write them out before I lose them.

This memory of what I wrote about my dad occurred suddenly to me as I was wiping down some mirrors. It’s a curious thing, cleaning mirrors. You are alone, and you aren’t. You are somehow forced to look at yourself doing a mundane, everyday chore, and not when you are seeking to boost or gratify your vanity. It can make you wonder, “Who Am I, Really?” “Is This How Others See Me?” “What Have I Become?” Maybe you will even spontaneously burst into “Reflections” like a Disney princess who does housecleaning. Maybe I am just asking myself these questions in light of recent situations and conflict that have shown me that I have not become what I wish to be. I am not who I was. I am not living the life I want right now.

I refer to a conflict that is perhaps a typical relationship woe – Person A has more free time than the other, and naturally desires to spend more time together. Person B is extremely busy and stressed and tries to give what s/he can, but ultimately begins to feel it an obligation and resentment grows, as s/he is continually asked for more time together than s/he can afford to give. Person A, with more free time begins to feel neglected and uncared for, believes perhaps, that if someone really wanted to spend time with them, they would make time to do so. S/he feels that her feelings are being invalidated, ignored, and that s/he doesn’t deserve what she is asking for in a relationship. There is also resentment and reproach, and s/he begins to complain and express disappointment and tell the much busier half that what they are trying to give is not enough. Eventually, things come to a head, Person B grows angry and thinks that to resolve the conflict would take more time that s/he doesn’t have or care to give, and that whatever time s/he has given has not even been appreciated, it is deemed “not enough,” and furthermore, wasted on arguments. Person B thinks perhaps the best solution is just to give up, but s/he expresses this in many hurtful statements. Person A is in tears, afraid of losing Person B, expressing uncontrollable emotions that aggravate Person B’s anger and validate Person B’s fears of time wasted. At some point, they make up, and agree to strive for a solution. Repeat ad nauseum.

I was just Person A in this vicious cycle, that I am hoping to break. After having spoken to some friends, while crying or while calm(er), I know that it is possible to take either side in this conflict. I do not think I am wrong to hope for, to ask for my needs to be fulfilled in a relationship. I think that perhaps a different Person B would be willing to sacrifice some time to comfort or reassure me, to not get angry with me because I cry. But I have also tried to look at the situation from the perspective of my other half. Not that I haven’t tried to before. The solution I arrived at each time before was that I would try to be content with what time we had together, and that eventually, that time would probably increase once the stress and busy-ness subsided a little. Maybe another solution would be if I found someone who is willing to give a little more. The thing is, I love my Person B very much, and when we aren’t upset about this issue, we are really very happy and loving around each other. When times are good, it is somewhat easier for me to accept that he cannot spend time with me. When he gets angry if I reproach him, it makes it even more difficult to keep my mouth shut because my unhappiness and dissatisfaction increase.

I do not want to lose him simply because I cannot learn to be a little more patient and to rethink the way I perceive the situation. When I am hurting and upset, it is really hard for me to listen with understanding to what he is saying. When he is angry and injects this wrath into every word, action, and blame he places upon me, I am not able to consider why he is acting in so harsh a manner. Sometimes I fear I am becoming like my mother, who used tears, hysterics, and “playing the victim,” to gain the comfort, apologies and reassurance she wanted. I am deeply afraid that constantly witnessing this behaviour as a child has somehow given me cause to believe that it will give me what I want. This is behavior I also want to get rid of, because my logical state of mind, when present, tells me that I am being childishly irrational. I loathed seeing my mother in a fit of sobbing, I grew to feel only indifference and disgust at her overly emotional episodes. I was fed up with her, as my other half was beginning to feel, with me.

This is the behaviour that I hate to see resurfacing in myself. I do not enjoy wasting my own time feeling so emotionally unbalanced and crazy. I can state other reasons for why I am so needy for his time – I feel lonely, homesick, friendless; I have stopped doing the activities I once enjoyed to make myself feel better; I am constantly too tired and sleep deprived from my two jobs that are not emotionally or spiritually fulfilling for me, to even make the effort to better myself. I know that if I were busier, and happier doing things that I enjoy, I would not feel that I need my boyfriend around to fulfill all these needs. So, I guess I asked my freshly cleaned reflection when it would me “show who I am inside” because I am not seeing myself as I was, as I want to be, in the mirror anymore. And I urgently need to restore that reflection. There is also another reason why it is so hard for me to accept having less time with him, which is the fact that half our relationship so far was long distance (about 8-9 months), and in half a year, I will be going home, and our relationship will continue indefinitely through long distance. That is the plan so far, at any rate, and so having knowledge of these great separations only makes me feel more desperate to cram in more time together before we are apart again. But I would rather be together still through long distance at a later date, than to push him away with my demands at present.

It’s possible for me to continue thinking I deserve more or better, and to use this belief to justify my demands for more time together. But, I know that I will not get what I want this way. When I am hurt, it’s difficult to not think, “Me, me, me.” That’s why resolving a conflict in an emotional state is a terrible idea. Now that I am calmer and feeling more rational, the introspection comes naturally and even the memory of what I thought about my father when I was twelve has come back to me, reminding me to look at Person B as a human being, not as my personal antagonist. Person B is a busy, stressed guy, who is doing the best he can, with limited time and resource, and rather than rejecting or downplaying his efforts, I know I should be appreciating what he does give, and supporting him in his various activities by not wasting time on disappointment and critique. Being with him also means that instead of looking at the things he does as things that take time away from us, I should consider how he is working towards a future that is potentially our future. Whether he is immersed in his studies at school, or working late at his lab, these are things that should be “common goals” – of course, I want him to pursue them. This time around, I hope that my contemplation/self-examination will outlast the ‘scribbling’ process.

 

 

please don’t take my sunshine away

my figurative plate is too full, yet at times i find myself barely eating the three minimum required meals a day. the effort i made to be more like my old productive self here in Montréal means that  i have somehow given myself too much to do again, with too little time. some days i am out the door at 6:20am, almost an hour before the sun now rises, and i do not come back until past 10 at night. even with two jobs, i tried to sign up for two choruses, and try to cook, clean, do laundry, do “adult” chores, and sleep. that last one wasn’t happening enough the week before last, and i felt like i was barely hanging on, almost falling apart from fatigue. my period was so late and irregular that i feared i might’ve gotten pregnant and that was a week of much un-needed stress on top of everything else.

i should count myself lucky at least, that i do not have jobs that i hate. as tiring as it is to start at 7 in the morning almost everyday, to run around on my feet for 8 hours serving customers, i still enjoy it. i am so grateful that i found a job that gives me enough hours a week even with my restrictive availability, and i really appreciate working at a café where the majority of customers are amiable, and the owners/bosses are fair and hardworking themselves. even when i am feeling sluggish, i feel motivated to work harder, because it always seems as though my coworkers and the owners are working harder still. i also enjoy having the opportunity to practice my french and feeling capable of working efficiently again.

and even though i go almost directly from an eight hour shift to picking up the kids i look after from school, i still look forward to doing it. while i felt under appreciated by the girls during the summer, i feel more like they genuinely like me now and perhaps even miss me when i am not around. it’s taken months, but i feel that they show me trust and affection; and even when i am so tired i feel as though i may fall asleep standing up while waiting outside of the school, i can’t help breaking out into a big grin and waving when i see the younger girl come out the front doors looking for me on the other side of the fence. and hearing the gladness in the older girl’s tone of voice when i say i will be staying for dinner or staying late to play with her after dinner makes me feel wanted, like i belong, like i matter. there is such a rewarding feeling too, in helping her with her school work everyday, in watching her progress from week to week, in noticing her improvements and feeling like my efforts are a crucial contribution to her grades, and in realizing that she trusts my knowledge of her coursework enough to listen to me when i am helping her study.

and joining an all women’s a capella choir has given me a chance to learn new music while practicing something i love in a warm, encouraging, and fun environment. even if it’s exaggerated, the praise i hear from other women who are great at singing is motivating. and whether it’s when we join hands at the end while standing in a circle and singing our theme song,  or when i am attempting to sing my part alone in a car with two other women who kindly offered to drive me home, or when i am asked to join an octet to sing songs in another language (Mandarin), i always feel such a great sense of belonging and welcome, that i am almost moved to grateful tears.

and so, little by little, i feel like i am carving out a tiny niche for myself in Montréal, which hopefully will be worth all the hours of lost sleep. i am too busy and tired to feel as homesick or lonely as i imagine i otherwise might, though i still feel it day to day, like a lingering bruise on my chest, that makes itself felt when gently pressed by a scent or a song that stirs up memories. i still miss France every week, and i can never seem to find time to chat with anyone back home anymore. sometimes it feels so surreal, to be back in Canada, working in Montréal, not having seen my family or friends for over a year, and knowing that this time last year, i was climbing a hot sand dune with views of the Atlantic in Arcachon, and shopping and drinking wine along the quayside in Bordeaux. in this way, i feel like an uprooted flower, struggling to find some stable soil, but every time i am replanted, some roots become lost and scattered and i feel like i’m wilting slowly when i wish i could be in bloom. the only time i feel calm and relief, even if it’s just for a few brief moments, is at the end of the day when i get to come ‘home’ to J and hold his hand in my sleep, and feel like i am bathing in sunshine despite the wintry weather and cold grey skies.

“À quoi ça sert d’écrire sur les murs?”

[Paris] “Smile, Laugh, Breathe”

It’s hard to believe that two months have passed since I left France and stepped foot on Canadian soil again. I’ve already spent 6-7 weeks in Montréal as a full time summer au pair, and will resume my position with the family at the end of August for the next school year. As excited as I was to start on yet another new venture, I had a hard time settling in, and accepting the fact that I had to leave behind the country that represented the culmination of all my previous hopes and dreams – of living abroad, speaking a foreign language, and immersing in an exciting, inspiring culture. In fact, I think I hated Montréal for the first two weeks that I was here, it was as big, dirty, noisy, and lacking in charm as I had feared. After time spent in the French countryside, the weather in Montréal seemed dreadful, the humidity was awful and stifling, the pollution was detestable. Even now, I can’t help often comparing everything to “how it is in France.” But it’s not fair to compare, I know I arrived in France with stars in my eyes, France has always been a glowing pinnacle on the towers of my castle in the clouds. So I try to look at Montréal through rose-tinted (sun)glasses and try to be content with being Canadian again.

Recently, I met up again with some friends who had been on exchange in France at the same time, and we couldn’t help but chat over drinks about the things we missed about France – the pâtisseries, the trains, the food, the wine (and wine prices!!), the charm of historical buildings, or the accessibility of travel to other countries…and I started looking through the huge collection of photos taken in France/Italy that I still refuse to delete off my iPhone (hence why I have no memory space for photos in Montréal…). I came across several images of graffiti, street art, window displays or vandalism that had delighted me at the point of their discovery, whether it had been with the brazenness or with the wisdom of their messages, and thought that I would make a post of them, as a way of remembering yet another aspect of France qui me manque.

[Cahors] One of the first photos I took in my first days in Cahors. Shoes thrown over a wire is a common sight back home, and this image made me smile as I realized that some things don’t change just because you cross an ocean and leave one country for another.

[Rue des Soubirous, Cahors] “In your mouth, idiot.” Down the street from where I lived in Cahors, an abandoned medieval structure was boarded up and scrawled upon by some lycéens. The French vocab reminded me at the time of how I was well and truly living in a foreign place.

[Cahors] This one made me realize the extent of English that my potential students would have! (And of their typical teenage mindsets.)

if you ask me if i love you

Love you? Of course I love you. I don’t even know why I doubted my own feelings before other than for the reason of not having been myself lately and doubting myself in general. I can’t live without your presence, apparently. I love your geeky intelligence, your patience, your sense of humour, your awkwardness, how sensitive, sweet and cheesy you are, how thoughtful you can be. I love how we have so much in common and how we are usually on the same page for everything we encounter so we can get along so well. I love how you always encourage and support me and believe in me even when I doubt myself. I understand why you can’t do that for this particular doubt, so I just hope you can believe in me now when I say I love you. I love your funny little smile, your crooked front teeth, (poking) your single dimple, your fluffy hair and the adoring, affectionate way you look at me. I love your kindness even though it frustrates me when you are “too nice,” but I wouldn’t want it any other way and I’m sorry that I made it sound like I want you to change. I don’t. Please don’t ever change, because you make me a better person just by being who you are. Being away from you for so long has made me lose sight of who you are and what you mean to me. So I am so sorry that I seemed to take it for granted. I was unhappy and not in a good place, so no matter how hard you tried to give me more to make me happy, it wasn’t enough, it could never be enough, and that was not your fault, nor your responsibility. I couldn’t make myself happy or strong enough to deal with the things that were bringing me down. I love your calm and your self-control when you are annoyed, I didn’t deserve it last night, and I think you are justified in being angry. I said that maybe you were what I was looking for at only that point in my life, but that’s not true. You are not usually the kind of guy I date, but that’s the point, I shouldn’t keep dating guys who make me unhappy and (try to) break my heart. You are what I’m looking for, for always. I really do love you to the point where I envision and hope to have a future with you and I was so happy I could make you happy. But then I stopped being happy myself and I couldn’t do it anymore. I had a moment of weakness, please forgive me. I’ve been feeling lost and if I don’t know who I am or what I am, how can I know who or what I love? But the possibility, no matter how real, of losing you has really driven me to the awareness of how much you mean to me. And I take back what I said too, about how I didn’t feel attracted to you. I didn’t like anything in general, I felt so apathetic about everything. It wasn’t really that I’m not attracted to you, because I am. It doesn’t bother me that you are pale or that you have a skin condition that I hardly notice with my bad eyesight, and I must admit that just thinking about being near you and your athletic legs sometimes fills me with lust. I just want your pale skinny(er) arms around me again. I was apathetic and felt nothing, even about gruesome onscreen murders, but somehow being upset and hurt has at least allowed me to feel more. I remembered what it was like to finally hug you on that bed in Paris when we were reunited. I remembered what it feels like to curl up next to you in your neck, or how safe I always feel when I’m near you, or lying on your chest. I remember the excitement I used to feel when I think about running towards you in the airport. Everything reminded me of you today, from the sounds of violins, or a pale skinned choir boy whose head jiggled awkwardly when he sang, much like yours does, to seeing the last name “Ozouf” on a book cover in passing. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I still can’t. You’ve mentioned a few times in the past that I don’t say “cheesy” or “romantic” things in return, or as often as you do. I’m scared to let you know, and I don’t want to scare you away by letting you know just how much you really mean to me. I’m too scared of looking like I love you more than you love me, so I laugh off your sentiments or act nonchalant and make jokes. I guess you don’t know how much I really adore you – even if I didn’t show it recently – so now you do. I hope it still matters to you.