Mouth

Dear Mouth,

You were nicknamed "Mouth" as a teenager, not as affectionately as one might think.  Your frustration with your parents, their haphazard parenting of your younger siblings, the chronic warfare that had decimated their marriage and divided your family, would boil over sometimes and you would barrage anyone within range with a bitter tongue lashing.  As you settled into adulthood, it was not as often but there were times that you simply could not help yourself and your anger became a slithering, living thing intent on punishing  people for not being as perfect as you thought they should be, for hurting you.

You learned not to be angry, lest that vicious girl appear and take over your lips.  You learned that just burying the anger, smiling sweetly and consciously projecting that you were “fine” worked in your relationships better than becoming the Mouth.  You stopped trying to figure out why you felt angry and focused on pretending to not be angry.  Still, something in you  screams at the inequity of how your failed relationships impacted your life, your finances, your childrens’  lives and your peace of mind and it lives coiled up and tense just beneath the surface.  The wrath of Kelly, still now scaring you with its power.

There are times that being angry serves, but more often than not it is a wall that everyone who tries to love you hits hard and painfully.  It is said that anger covers hurt, wraps up your pain with a protective venomous layer so that the fragile psyche can appear strong.  It is time, then, to carefully shed that skin and let the scared child, the frustrated adolescent, the care taking teenager, the abandoned young mother feel mad.  Feel furious, cheated, taken advantage of, disappointed.  They are after all just feelings.  They will quietly slither away if confronted.  You no longer have to ignore the warning rattle, the tensing up of this angry person inside of you ready to strike.  You can use your mouth to communicate with respect, you can stand up for yourself, you can be firm but kind.  You no longer have to use it to stand up for your siblings, your children, your friends.  They can handle their own lives now, and they also have a mouth to do so.

Thinker

Dear Thinker,

You thought he loved you.  Now you beat yourself up every day questioning him, you, the two and half years, love, whether or not you are lovable, what you did wrong, what he did wrong, what could have should have happened in order to salvage that love...

The truth is you cannot make someone love you.  You can try to be what and who they want, you can bury large chunks of yourself in the hopes that the meager remains of your personality and your life are appealing to him, you can try to be skinnier, more organized, less emotional, more punctual, cleaner, a better cook, less needy, more flexible, less "touchy feely", more focused on home maintenance...but then they wouldn't love you, they would love a fake, watered down, unauthentic version of you.

Perhaps the real truth is that you loved him, but maybe you too wanted a watered down version.  You wanted a less obsessive compulsive, more openly loving, emotional, easy going, better educated, more flexible joyful version of him.  Not fair of you, to try and make someone be what you need to be happy.  If the chasm between you was so great, of course building a bridge between your lives was too hard for both of you.  There is nothing wrong with admitting that.  It doesn't negate the great times you had, the support you gave each other, the friendship, the closeness.  That is what a relationship is, and not every relationship ends with happily ever after.  There wouldn't be quite so many songs written about failed love if it was that easy.

You thought you loved each other.  Now stop beating yourself up every day questioning him, you, the two and half years, love, whether or not you are lovable.  Sometimes it just doesn't fit, it just doesn't work for the long haul.  Give both of you credit for trying and move on.  The words you texted him to end it say it all, "I just don't think is should be this hard"...

Unconditional

 
Dear Ms. Unconditional,

You write brilliant contracts.  Effortlessly.  Something about the exacting science of summing up the terms and conditions of the work at hand speaks to your soul.  Not that the contracts you have for your company ever really hold any true weight, rather there is a slip sliding of verbal negotiation that happens during every renovation that completely negates the concise parameters of the signed document.

Your job as the coordinator is to hover between the workers and the client in such a way that each feels validated.  Not easy, especially when you are working with those who have had their home torn apart and are living on pop tarts and gas station coffee while doing dishes in the bathtub.  It's empathy that allows you to be brilliant at your job, along with an innate design capability and an easy going personality.  Too bad you cannot write a contract for your next relationship, we all know that it would mean next to nothing and the conditions put forth by any honest man would never be met.  Somewhere in it would be the verbage that you were to be pretty at all times, ask for nothing, work out every day, be available for what they want when they want it, listen to them drone on and on about their work and their problems, be successful, a brilliant cook, lover, and housekeeper.  And because of your empathy, you would as always try to meet these parameters and you would fail again, as usual.  Rather, turn the shredder on and do away with all of the past documents that define what you can and cannot be in order to be loved.  Make it a loose, peaceful space where everyone feels validated, without rules, subsections and consequences.  It can be one line, signed and initialed by both of you, and it would simply say "I agree to love you unconditionally."

Quitter

Dear Quitter,

It's true, you were raised by a Marine to never, ever give up but you have decided to quit.  To quit trying to be what someone else wants you to be, to quit trying to take care of the world, to quit equating being alone with being lonely, to quit waiting for your life to start, to quit trying to find Mr. Right.

Not an easy thing, this quitting.  Basically you are giving up on the goals, the singular focus that has dominated your adulthood.  Just like walking into your manager's office to tender your resignation years ago, there is a mixture of excitement, sorrow and acceptance.  

You quit because you aren't happy.  You quit because you try so hard to love and never get that effort back.   You quit because the idiots on Match.com are either depressed, looking for a 30 year old or wanting to sleep with you immediately.  You quit because you make bad decisions, you stay too long in bad relationships, you have no boundaries.  

You raised your children with the mantra "we do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done, no matter what"...and in your subconscious all of the care taking, support, gifts, listening, loving was what needed to be done.  It's time to stop doing, to quit trying, to accept what is and what isn't.  There is peace in the resignation that we do without doing.  Maybe you will find someone who truly loves you, and maybe not.  It's time to just be good to yourself and let it all go.  It's OK to be a quitter, just this one time.

Little Lamb

Dear Little Lamb,

You have sacrificed.  A lot.  In your marriage with an angry, controlling man who abused your children you sacrificed your peace of mind, your friendships, your family, your health.  Consumed with protecting the fragile emotional landscape and the physical safety of your children's  world, you fought a silent and tension filled battle with a monster that ended the day he choked your eleven year old.  Little did you know the problems had just begun.  The monster moved on to an even more controlling, angry partner, shutting your kids down with insults, abuse and even ejection from her home.  The spotty child support sputtered and died, while the sheriff arriving at the house to serve you court documents yet again became a common occurrence.  Since you were the only parent, you were suddenly responsible not only for running your company but for everything your kids needed to have a somewhat normal adolescence.  It became a heart pounding, wine chugging, adrenaline filled decade during which time you lost sleep, your hair, your money and your belief in a system that should protect women and children and seemed only to provide stingy horrible fathers with a legal means to abandon their own flesh and blood.

Fast forward ten years and here you are, still providing for your 23 year old and 25 year old, still putting their needs first.  Both are incredible men, filled with passion and love, confident and giving.   They are successful not in the world their "father" believed in, money and status, but in their commitment to the environment and to saving lives.  The end result was so worth the sacrifices it entailed, there is never a moment of regret for the unwavering love and dedication you provided, at whatever cost.

In the two long term relationships you had after the divorce, you were so focused on giving the boys a new Dad you forgot to find someone who actually put you first and made you happy.  You stayed even when the last shred of hope had fled, so that the boys didn't have to endure yet another abandonment.  Both kids have verbalized to you during this last break up that they just want you to be happy.  That you are enough family for them.  That you don't have to sacrifice any more.

A friend called to tell you that the recent ex was telling everyone you broke it off because he wouldn't marry you.  How you would love to text him that you broke it off because you decided to put you first just this once.  That he was an awful lot like your ex-husband and the thought of living with someone who was so overly controlling and obsessive compulsive filled you with dread and panic.  The wedding altar you had so doggedly pursued, down to discussing the house you would build together, had started to loom in your subconscious as yet another symbolic flat rock where you would be stretched out and sacrificed so that your creativity and freedom could be offered up to the gods of narcissism and regimentation.  You have sacrificed.  A lot.  But this one last time offer yourself up and let him believe that it was his choice that you didn't get married.  At least you didn't end up back full circle in a marriage to an angry, controlling man.

Project Manager

Dear Project Manager,

Tight schedules, delays, angry clients, weepy clients, missing materials, subcontractors begging for money, hundreds of text messages each and every day, including Sunday...it's no wonder you are a tiny bit burnt out.  The end result is gorgeous, the clients are usually repentant and refer you so the steady stream of people never varies.  This is not what you had in mind when you started a design and build company, but you have been able to twist yourself around the demands of your clients so that somehow it works, if not exactly like they anticipate at least enough to make very good money and put both of your kids through college.  Unfortunately there is a lot of drama and unnecessary friction that is inherent in the design and build process, and it requires diligence, organization and a tough upper lip.

No so with the management of your past relationship.  If there was ever a project that you undertook with woefully little information and a blase attitude that you could and would make this work out, it was this last one.  He was alternately completely into you, showering you with attention and trips and helping at the house, or completely self absorbed and not communicating at all.  You were supposed to be available when he wanted you to be, but there was never an exchange of work schedules, obligations, calendars or prior commitments.  At least with your subs you can communicate with them, cajole, threaten, flatter to get some forward momentum going.  With him you had no power, if you tried to talk about feelings he physically left or got furious.  If you had plans already he was annoyed.  If you didn't show up on time to the minute he was aggravated.  If you showed any weakness he was disdainful.  If you talked about the future it was like trying to talk to your Mexican painter who nods and smiles while listening to you when you know full well he isn't able to process what you are communicating to him.  His complete and total lack of empathy for you, your life, your job, your problems made ever getting past the design phase impossible, he was never going to let you build anything for or with him.

So this has been the longest project you ever tried to complete, and you walked away half way through because you knew in your heart the benefit didn't outweigh the risk.  It was exactly like the Jewish client who agreed to the contract then spent six months ignoring it and paying you what he wanted when he wanted.   You can try to quantify and plot and revise calendars and expectations but in the end the resistance that makes even a micro renovation difficult to get under contract is what caused the abrupt end of discussion between you two.  You have enough of this in your job, it was unfair that you had to do it in your personal life.  It can be someone elses' project now, let's see how she does trying to build a life with him when he is mired firmly in his past marriage and his rigid self imposed calendar.

Dreamer

Dear Dreamer,

You have been a little out of touch lately, of course we all give you the benefit of the doubt with the boyfriend from Hell that you broke up with, the crazy work schedule, the social calendar of someone much younger and more energetic, still, you seem a little lost.  That being said, you also seem less controlling, less wrapped up in the drama of yet another failed relationship, less uptight.  So the dreamy glazed over aura that surrounds you is just surprising, not yet awful for those who love you best.  We want you back, the fun, ball of pure energy, up for anything, crazy loving, dramatic, victim of life, friend of the universe.  Is it that yet another dream ruptured and your life long goal of "happy ever after" died?  Are you in mourning?  Are you just burnt out having had to deal with damaged, aging men who refuse to acknowledge their shortcomings and plan for an albeit probably short marriage to you? Are you worn out from the swirling dreams that interrupt you every night along with the antics of the crazy revenge cat you bought to punish the last guy who left you?

Perhaps it is that you are finally allowing yourself to dream and it isn't about yet another insecure man and the damage he can do to your all together peaceful, happy life!  Maybe you are dreaming of the grandchildren that are soon to arrive, the book you are writing, the beach house you rented.  Maybe you are just at peace not having to try so hard to make a relationship work that never worked.  Maybe you are just relaxed finally, after decades of being abused by needy, controlling men.  The men who thought, no, truly believed, they were your dream come true.

It's not bad...no really, it's just different.  You seem to be traversing your own interior universe without much regard for the frantic, pleaser, worried self that used to inhabit your whole self.  You seem to be dreaming your own dream, independent of any one else.  While a little confusing to those of us who love you best, it is actually a nice change.  We were all tired of watching these piranha's eat you alive just because you were so loving and sweet.  So rest, dream, smile...keep on doing what you have been doing this past month.  We love you little dreamer girl...

Happy Girl

 Dear Happy Girl,

Where have you gone?  Even with a crazy work schedule and dogs and kids and trying always to take care of the world you used to be happy.  One year of crazy happy followed by an insane year and a half of absolute abject misery can do that to a person.  You research narcissistic personality disorder, you relive the coldness, the anger, the detachment, the robotic overly scheduled emotionless months, the lack of caring about what you were going through, the snide critical comments.  How much can a person take?  Alone on the first night of the cruise while he drank himself into oblivion and gambled recklessly, completely ignoring you, you realized you were done.  He had effectively abused you out of loving him.  The appreciation you had for his caring that had somehow bridged the gap of  his weird obsession with his ex wife was gone.  He would sit at your house with a scowl on his face, with no joy at all, existing in a critical self absorbed state of misery, judging you now instead of helping.  You don't remember him ever saying he was sorry, ever.  You don't remember the last time he looked at you with love.  So you had to make the call, change into Unhappy Girl forever, or move on knowing you deserve to be with someone at least capable of loving, of being happy himself.  He left to go out of town without even bothering to tell you, wrapped up as usual with his gambling obsession.  So you cried, as usual, begged, as usual, tried to make sense of it and failed, as usual.  It's going to be hard to find her again, but Happy Girl is still there, under a mountain of hurt and anger.  It's time to dig her out, she was buried alive by control, anger and inconsideration.  She deserves to shine again, to be cleaned up and set free to share her joy with the world.