I promised you guys "a vengeance," but I don't know that I have a vengeance in me. Instead, I have a cautionary tale. Or maybe a bildungsroman. Or maybe a voyage of self-discovery. Or maybe a story of grace. How about a work in progress?
This whole process (of being underground and unhappy for so many years, then of coming out of that, then of trying to get divorced and become myself at the same time) has been all about finally understanding that I am not, nor do I have to be, a Good Girl. That's an entire dissertation, so let me give you just one little piece for today.
I was having a bad 36 hours of feeling not very attractive, and that made me think about how my own sense of attractiveness has changed over the years. For a long, long time all I thought about was how I was perceived, whether others thought I was beautiful, sexy, thin, alluring. Even when I was at a woman's college reading John Berger and steeping myself in the idea that I could be the gazer instead of the object, I still didn't internalize it.
Looking back on the decisions I made, the relationships I had, it was never about me or how I felt. it was about wondering how I would fit in, how the other person felt about me. Which may have been why I wasn't a long-term relationship kind of girl--I wanted to please, but then couldn't stick around because something was wrong. I just couldn't be all in, because I'd made my decision on what the other person wanted instead of how I felt. I didn't even let myself think about what I really wanted, because that would have been too scary and dangerous.
Even when I got married, it wasn't about what I wanted, what I needed, how it made me feel. It was about picking the person who looked right, and who seemed like a decent bet. It was "time to get married." So I did. No one has a soul mate. No one can see to the real me, and no one would want to anyway. Play the hand you're dealt.
But then, somehow, I started feeling like what if I was enough, just as I was. What if there was something inside me that was reaching out, that needed connection, that needed more? I started getting almost obsessed with Jorge Ben music, the sexually romantic melodies and lyrics
Procura-se uma noiva
Que goste de fazer carinho
Encostando a cabeça no meu peito
E ouvir meu coração dizer baixinho
Eu te amo, eu te amo, eu te amo
and with "my cowboy singer" Josh Turner and his cowboy ethic about love and relationships. The idea of connecting so intimately because it would give me pleasure was something new and scary to me, but I couldn't stop exploring it. It felt like everything I had been was coming apart at the seams, but I couldn't not know anymore.
The period right after I told my kids' father that I needed to get out of the marriage was one of the most bizarre times of my life. On one hand I was feeling guilty and sad but on the other hand I felt so free and almost deliriously joyful. I started feeling sexy in a way I'd never felt before--powerful. I was lush, ripe, on the verge. I started buying clothes that showed myself off, and sexy shoes not suitable for pushing a stroller. I looked at men with new eyes, wondering who they were and what they were like, if I'd want to be with them or whether they'd bore me.
And this feeling flowed out of me so other people could pick up on it. My friends (old and new) told me how beautiful I was suddenly. Men stopped me on the street to compliment me or hand me their cards. I felt like Janie with Tea-Cake, able to wear my hair down, long and thick and wanton.
At the same time I was going through this period of blossoming, I was the only woman in my office, and the guys there were retraining me for the world of men. What was reasonable, what was right, what was expected on both sides. They're a hugely disparate group, but all are chivalrous, kind, funny, and real. Most are married, and seeing how they interacted with and about their wives (and one husband) was eye-opening. I felt like my whole life had been about punching holes in important documents, only to find that I'd misjudged by half an inch, so none of the holes lined up with the other pages to go into the binder. Instead of making a core so the pages could be held together, the pages were preventing each other from being fastened.
How could I process all of this? The private sexy me, the public sexy me, the private and public Good Girl who'd accepted and asked for far less than she was worth? The PTA mom, Moxie, church committee chairperson? The woman who was undergoing a huge spiritual renewal of being claimed by a God who loved her even, especially, broken and failed?
I'm still processing it. I still struggle at times with the idea of "Will I be loved? Will someone find me attractive?" But knowing what it's like to be in the wrong relationship, I now know that it's not just about being desired, it really is about desiring and being desired. I wonder if, once I'm free, I'll go through a selfish phase or truly not caring how I'm thought of, or if the emotional work I've done on myself will render that unnecessary.
How do you process it? This figuring out that you are not who you thought you were? Who you'd been programmed to be? That mothering has changed your core or allowed you to start to shed the layers that hid who you are supposed to be? How do you know your own worth?
I know I'm not the only one has gone through this, who is going through this right now. Even if you chose the right partner, there is still the crucible of motherhood that hones you if you let it, but boils you down if you resist. How do we go through it and come out on the other side knowing we're not the Good Girl anymore, but allowing ourselves to be all the angles of ourselves--good, bad, angry, joyful, sexy, inspiring, powerful, vulnerable?
You're watching me write my story. How do you write yours?
Alanna- Beautiful poem. I read it 4 times, feeling it more each time.
Moxie- Trip to Brazil? i can make some good suggestions.
A rua no Brasil. Eu tenho saudade. Eu tenho muito coisas boas.
Posted by: Amanda | June 18, 2008 at 05:40 PM
I think what is most revealing about this latest post is how Moxie takes no responsibility for any of this--she blames her soon to be ex-husband for everything. His blog has not once said anything negative about her--even if you go back to the weekend where Moxie tells him that she wants a divorce, his last entry is about looking forward to date night with Moxie. Marriage is tough--it isnt perfect because people arent perfect. It ebbs and flows I think Moxie has a long way to go on this journey of hers until she gets to a point where she can claim some responsibility for what happened. Finally, I have to wonder what her sons will make of all of this when they are old enough to read it. Particularly when you can compare how both their mother and father are chronicling the same journey.
Posted by: Cat | June 18, 2008 at 07:35 PM
Cat, I read Moxie every day and haven't read anything negative about her husband - I'm not sure where you're reading that? Also, I see her taking a ton of responsibility - she just said that she got married because it was "time to get married", among other things. I see no blame pointed at anyone in any of her writing. :-/
Posted by: kate | June 18, 2008 at 07:52 PM
@Hedra--Yes... it's hard to be "bad" and respectful. I really struggle with this b/c I want to be respectful and kind... but I don't want that to interfere with my own world (yes, I'm selfish and tired of repressing that). Here's an example: my FIL loves to have long dinners at a local restaurant with the whole family. We all have school-age and younger kids and sitting for 3 hours in a crowded restaurant with a bunch of kids (2 of whom are babies/toddlers) is not my idea of a good time. I'm willing to do it on occasion, but nowhere near as often as he would like. So, the rest of the family (even those with more kids and the younger baby than I have) thinks I'm a b!tch because I often beg off these occasions, sending my husband off on his own while I stay home with our 3 kids. I want to be respectful of my FIL's desire to have family time... but I also need to stay sane. The old me (the "good" me) would have (and did) suck it up. But the new me draws the line. This is just one example of many... I could go on. And, ugh, the phone calls... I try to be good about that... As for my daughter... her issues right now affect her more in terms of the family than they do her peers (as far as I can tell). She has wild mood swings, lots of sensory issues, and alternates between being very needy and very self-sufficient. She is a mixed bag and you never know what you are going to get. I need to get her into therapy... not to "cure" her... but to get her some coping strategies so she feels more in control of herself. And this is what worries me about the conforming. I fear that family members are seeking a "cure" for her, and that she will internalize her label as a "difficult" child (something I know she already senses). So that rather than embracing who she is (a "bad" girl, maybe), she will squeeze herself into a mold that doesn't fit her.
@Cat--I'm with Kate that I haven't gotten a sense from Moxie that she is blaming LOD. As a fellow divorcee who made the call to leave the marriage, I will say that when there's not a clear impetus to leave (violence, for example), there's a lot of emotional struggle and trying to determine who we are that we put everyone through this. Several years (and a new marriage and new baby later), I still struggle with my decision. Not from a regret standpoint, but from the standpoint of what Moxie is saying here... who am I exactly? Where have I been all this time? Who was the me who married that man* and then broke up my family to seek something different? I'm sure Moxie didn't plan for life to turn out like this... and it calls for a lot of soul searching to discover ourselves. I guess some of that reads as blaming those who didn't live up to our expectations. But in reality, it's more of a case of not even knowing what our expectations were. At least, that's my experience.
*I say "that man", but in reality, my ex-husband is a very nice man and a wonderful father. While we were/are very good at parenting together, we were totally uninspiring as partners.
Posted by: Amy | June 18, 2008 at 11:31 PM
I highly recommend the book "Falling into Manholes, the Memoir of a Good/Bad Girl". It's a wonderfully written book (the author is a friend/colleague so I'm slightly biased!) but the crux of the book really touches on this very subject. While not about motherhood in a direct sense, Wendy's book is about the evolvment of her own being and finding out who she is... she goes through a lot of struggles to get to where she is now and is still in progress. But aren't we all?? Here's her website http://www.fallingintomanholes.com/. All the best! Janet
Posted by: Janet | June 19, 2008 at 01:44 AM
Oh dear Cat, whoever you are and with whatever agenda you have, what a sad, sad commentary on yourself.
I'll pray for you.
Posted by: hush | June 19, 2008 at 10:01 AM
Reading back over, I think Cat saw this section: "Even when I got married, it wasn't about what I wanted, what I needed, how it made me feel. It was about picking the person who looked right, and who seemed like a decent bet. It was "time to get married." So I did." and thought she was talking IT as in 'his decisions' not HER decisions.
If you read it as 'I was just going along for the ride, it wasn't my fault' (which then assigns the blame to someone else, presumably LOD). But since I'm used to reading Moxie, I know what she means is 'I made these odd choices because I didn't know I was making odd choices and didn't think to examine them and figure out what I really wanted, I thought I *knew* and was doing it all right, only to figure out later that I was leading myself up some impossible garden path."
Cat, go back and re-read the section with the assumption that all the I statements are *I STATEMENTS* in fact. And that 'it' is about 'my decisions' not 'the process of being married'.
It goes like this: Even when I got married, *I discovered that my choices were not* about what I wanted, what I needed, how it made me feel. *My choices were based upon* picking the person who looked right, and who seemed like a decent bet. *To my own mind* It was "time to get married." So I did."
It's vastly different as a picture than how I think you're reading it: "Even when I got married, *I discovered that how marriage functioned* wasn't about what I wanted, what I needed, how it made me feel. *The reason we were married at all* was about picking the person who looked right *including his selection of me*, and who seemed like a decent bet *including his selection of me*. It was "time to get married." *He asked me.* So I did. *Because I was just going along with what he wanted.*"
THAT version is not what Moxie is saying. But I think that's what you're reading.
The word *IT* is a huge huge huge issue in technical writing, because it is interpreted freely by the reader. ANY 'it' can be placed there. If they were kind of stuck on one concept, or spin, or issue, or question, that becomes 'it' for that person. In personal (social, cultural, humanities) writing, using 'it' can be even more dangerous, because of the challenge of separating out personal perspective and filters of the readers. Cat may or may not have been prepared to think ill of Moxie, but either way, something in her (his?) filter clicked in and went straight to the 'she's blaming him for all this!' translation. (I've found myself shocked at times that someone I thought I knew would say something like THAT, and then I go back and read it with the assumption that they meant something different than what I read, and usually I find it was my interp that was off, just due to a single phrase or the use of a stand in term like 'it' or 'that'.)
Which isn't to say I'm great at avoiding 'it' - it is one of the things I struggle with constantly, in part because it's so common!(hence my awareness of it. Dang. did it again. SHOOT, again!)
Posted by: hedra | June 19, 2008 at 10:08 AM
Very powerful post Moxie - thank you again for letting us share in your world, and your birth process. And like a good birth, sometimes you have to get your brain out of the way so that your body can get the work done.
I strive at times to listen to 'the small still voice within' to test where I'm going.
The comments about soul mates struck me, and got me thinking, and I think that our definition of soul mate may be inaccurate (at least mine is). I'm starting to think that a soul mate is not the one (and only) person who makes you complete, but a person who lets your soul sing true. Someone with whom you don't need to 'fit' with.
I have two friends (one male, one female) from college who I consider soul mates, because with them I didn't feel the need to put on a mask. I didn't marry them - and I didn't date the girl either - because our personalities were very different. It took finding someone with whom I could be true, and with whom I could work well, before marriage made sense.
And I completely agree with the honing metaphor - and I will have to start using it more. Parenthood hones us so that we can cleanly cut off what is unnecessary.
Posted by: epeepunk | June 19, 2008 at 12:43 PM
Hedra, great job pulling that apart. Thanks for taking the time to do it. I also, as a regular reader here, have read the narrative as Moxie stating she wasn't self-aware enough to strike out and find what suited her authentic self. I'm far too removed from her and her situation to postulate more on motive and intent, but I certainly choose to think the best both of her and her husband. But then, I'm big on shades of gray, and don't invest so much in the black and white.
Posted by: rudyinparis | June 19, 2008 at 01:59 PM
I should have said: She *had not previously* been self-aware enough.
Posted by: rudyinparis | June 19, 2008 at 02:01 PM
I've been chewing on this since you posted this remarkably beautiful post... and thought to jump in at last.
As a lesbian, I've always been an outlaw. I prayed my knees flat wishing this core part of myself away. As with so many queer folks, I was a nearly perfect child (high achievers, straight A students, super pleasers), because I knew there was this part of me that would make me worthy of hate, I’m talking about from the age of four or five (I don’t think it was sexual then, but I always knew I was “different”).
The process of accepting myself for myself is so much the journey you are describing now. The rush of power when you embrace the who and what you are. The open acknowledgement of the pretend you, how much expended effort it took (and that you don’t have to spend any more) to be that person. I’m glad for the good grades and the great work ethic covering up who I am gave me. I hope you can come out of this glad for the pieces of the journey you took getting here.
I am living a life I could not have imaged. In my solidly middleclass 1970’s world, there were no two mommy families. There were no happy homosexuals. I didn’t come out until I was 30. I got “married” in 1987 before it was quite as chic as it is now. That in my lifetime I would be able to wed legally was never really a thought I’d even have entertained.
What your story has given me is another opportunity to be grateful for the secret thing that I grew up thinking would destroy me. As with any challenge, if you chose to perceive it as a gift, it can make your life sweeter for the pain it causes at first.
Thanks for taking your remarkable blog to this place too.
Kel
Posted by: Kel | June 19, 2008 at 02:19 PM
@AMy, I'd call what you're talking about not 'selfish' but 'sane'.
Something's gotta give when you cross kids with high family events, and usually it's the mom who suffers.
My own mom was required to attend her grandmother's family meals as a command performance. She hated it (granted, my mom still has big family meals and wants everyone to attend, but if you say 'command performance' out loud near her, she'll twitch - AND she was just as content to skip one of the big event meals almost entirely (or was it entirely? I forget) this year, because it wasn't going to work for the kids. So, at least she's one step up, there...
Anyway, choosing to not attend the big hairy deal meal can be a big hairy deal. It was in my ILs family, too - until it was clarified that it was the big hairy part that was bothersome. At which point, the 'must attend' and 'high formal' aspects were dumped in favor of 'hey, we like you guys, let's hang out - grill's on!' Because they care more about making it work for everyone than doing it the same way it has always been done. Granted, I like the high formal stuff a lot. But I also like the backyard grilling. And everyone was always okay with us getting up and haring off after kids mid-forkful.
Anyway, not selfish at all. Just sane. Making choices that cause less stress and crisis, with fewer repercussions for you and the kids over the next few days. Breathing room isn't selfish at all. Other people only call it that when they're afraid to turn the mirror on themselves (because what do you call requiring people to make themselves uncomfortable just so you can feel successful and paternal and obeyed?). There may be a way between the raindrops there, too - it took a while, but we DID work out the sense of what everyone was able to do, and while it is a compromise that means we don't have the huge formal deals I adore (sigh), we DO have time with the entire family so the younger ones can form bonds that hopefully will last past adolescence. Sometimes just saying "I miss spending time with everyone, but the cost of the misery isn't worth it, is there some way we can have alternate events that my kids and I can attend without it becoming a problem for them and everyone else?" can start things moving. If you want them to move that way - don't know the family dynamic, obviously. Your call.
And @Kel, excellent comment. I immediately thought of my sister, and the amazing strength and discipline she has, probably a fair bit derived from the same process. It has served her incredibly well. Still sucked at times, most certainly. But at least has a side-benefit to the conflict between self/truth and mask/world that is worth keeping.
Posted by: hedra | June 19, 2008 at 02:40 PM
Good for you, how very good for you. Life's too long to be wasted, and life rewards the brave.
[E falas português! Mas como??]
Posted by: Jamie | June 21, 2008 at 01:42 PM
[I don't know who Jamie is!]
Posted by: Lioness | June 21, 2008 at 01:43 PM
What a privilege to witness your transformation, Moxie. It reminds me of the phoenix tattoo I got after dissolving my first marriage, moving to the Bay Area, getting clean and sober, and starting to FINALLY settle into my own skin and notice that I am a really great person. I felt like I had been reborn, and that as my former life went up in flames, I was rising from the ashes: beautiful and strong and free!
Now, 10 years later I have an awesome partner and a beautiful daughter, and I feel like I'm still transforming. I think once I became open to transformation, it has just continued to happen as life brings me new experiences.
Definitely making, birthing and mothering a child has been the MOST amazing thing I've ever done/become. I feel like all my life I've had all of this love in my heart, and I finally reached a place in life where my heart is open enough to share that love, and now that I have this little person who visibly benefits from me pouring that love into her, it feels so perfect. (I'm not perfect...LOVE IS PERFECT.) And since making and birthing and mothering a baby is no joke, I feel so freakin' strong from this experience!! Wow.
@jan and a couple of others commented on CODA and recovery meetings. I just wanted to throw my 2 cents in. I sought out recovery in desperation; I could not stop drinking and getting high without help, and I had tried everything I could think of, so I finally broke down and went into 12 step meetings. I eventually realized that codependence was the driving force behind many of my problems, including addictive behaviors, self-loathing, and bad relationships, so I started going to CODA.
I don't go to meetings much anymore, but I really got a lot out of them. I think part of it was that I never before had allowed myself to be part of something and to allow a whole community of people to witness with positive regard my struggles and my strengths. It scared the S*!T out of me, but I stuck with it because at some level it felt like I would die without it. When I go to a CODA meeting these days, its usually when I'm feeling stuck around a feeling or relationship, and I need that sense of witnessing with positive regard to help me get unstuck.
It turns out that people get this witnessing in all kinds of places: religious communities, meditation groups, strong families, maybe even blog communities. Perhaps that's what you're getting here, Moxie? I started a blog after my daughter was born, and have found that using it as a public journal can be very vulnerable, so I appreciate you sharing your personal, emotional work in a public way.
What a phoenix you are!!
Posted by: aprildelfuego | June 22, 2008 at 11:42 AM
Very powerful post, and it hits very close to home.
I'm still a Good Girl.
Posted by: Girl Jen | June 22, 2008 at 12:27 PM
In some ways, I think you've described some of my journey, in a different order. I got married just before I turned 19 and allowed my whole world to be wrapped up in my husband. And the whole time he was trying to keep me away from everyone else - family, friends - so I wouldn't wake up and discover there was so much more out there. He wanted to keep me put away, keep me all to himself. He wanted a pet, not a wife.
I woke up from a deep sleep after I left him. But I really blossomed when I met my 2nd husband. He just wanted me to be happy, to find out what makes me happy. He still does. I am more of who I was meant to be with him. Who I want to be.
We've been together 10 yrs, married for 4. And we now have a 7 month old son. And yes, motherhood has changed me even more. I always wondered if I'd be able to break my selfishness if I became a mom. I was afraid I was too old, too set in my ways. But I'm not. I care even more for those around me. I'm more patient and more even-tempered. Things that bothered me before don't bother me now.
BTW, I used to be the Good Girl, trying to please everyone. I was miserable and wearing myself out. Now I know I need to take care of myself.
I'm still a work-in-progress, too. But damn, is this journey interesting.
Posted by: becky | June 26, 2008 at 12:11 AM
Well, I honestly don't understand what's wrong with actually being a good girl. I don't understand why society has gotten this "I need to find myself so I'm going to really LET GO which means ditching fill-in-the-blank" attitude. Why can't we "find ourselves" within a framework that we respect? I think a Good Girl is someone you can look at in the morning and feel great about. I'm a Good Girl when I can look at myself in the mirror and say "Wow, I'm really proud of what I'm doing". So I guess by that rationale if leaving a long-term relationship and worrying once again about whether you're physically desirable makes you say "wow, I'm really proud of myself" then maybe you're a Good Girl after all.
Posted by: Jane | June 29, 2008 at 11:37 PM