My paper topic was inspired by one of my favorite books, The Red Tent by Anita Diamant. This is a fictional retelling of the story of Jacob from the viewpoint of his female family members. Their time in the red (or menstral) tent was the only time they had for really relaxing and talking with each other. Durning this time in the tent, the history of the women in the family was passed down from generation to generation. Through the mouths of their daughters was the only way that these women would ever be remembered. The stories of their past, their traditions, and their future was all dependent upon having a daughter to share with.
I thought of my grandma. She was the mother of two boys, with no daughter to pass these things on to. While things are much different now than in the biblical setting of The Red Tent, it is also not too different. Would my fathers remember my grandma’s childhood the way she wanted it remembered? I felt like they would focus on different aspects than a female would. Just like in the story, a woman’s story is best passed down by a daughter, who tells it the way that woman would have wanted.
Now, I do not wish just to tell my grandma’s story, but to tell and compare her life, her challenges and her aspirations to those of my mother, and my own. I think this paper will end up being a combination of family history, a commentary on the change of women in a social perspective, and a change in women’s wants and aspirations. I want to leave my direction slightly open ended, so I can just go the way the answers to my interview questions, the stories, and my emotions take me.
My favorite quote so far:
“Well, I wanted another baby. And your grandpa said no. But really Jess, it’s not my fault my birth control pills got flushed down the toilet!”
I wonder if my uncle knows he is a result of the deception of my grandmother. I asked her if my grandpa knew. She never outright told him.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Authenticity: Redux (with a touch of reminiscence)
Authenticity, by definition, means worthy of acceptance or belief as conforming to or based on fact. Authenticity refers to something that is true. It is very questionable however, if humans can ever really know the truth about or true state of anything. Take for example in the Loss of the Creature where Walker Percy talks about sightseeing, where people see things like the Grand Canyon not by discovery, but through the view and opinion of the tour guide. They are handed the Grand Canyon, and see the parts that are chosen for them to see instead of exploring it themselves. The difference is when one is given a cookie-cutter tour, it is less personal. They got the same experience as a million people before them. Then their trip to the Canyon is more memorable by what happened on the way, not the emotion or connection they experienced to the true Grand Canyon.
It can also be said that the only person who has ever seen the Grand Canyon at its truest form is he who saw it first, alone, and uninterrupted. Seeing the Grand Canyon first lets you see it at its authentic form because it has been untouched by human hands. There are no guard rails, or hideous glass pathways that lead from the surface over the canyon. When one sees it alone, his emotional reaction and opinion is only his, he are not feeding off of what his companion is feeling, and his view is not tainted by a few hundred scattered tourists and busses. He who sees it uninterrupted has as much time as he needs. He is not hurried by those who are getting bored. He is has the time to see exactly how much he wants to see, feel how much he wants to feel.
This idea of authentic discovery is not so different from authentic thinking, knowledge and experience should be come by honestly. Not shoved down one’s throat by any other person, company, or government program. When I think of this, I think of the first (and only time) I experienced the ocean. My uncle, who lives near the ocean, and had been there probably countless times, took me. I got out of the car, and though he had been there much more than I had, he let me lead. He let me have space so I could see the ocean for myself, the way the tide rolls up and down the beach, where the water meets the sky, and the way the animals react with the land. I got to hear the waves hit the rocks. I got smell the salt, and feel the freezing cold water on my feet. He did not point to avert my attention to other things that he thought I should be looking at or hearing. He let me discover the ocean the way I wanted to, and act upon my emotions and curiosity. What surprised me was that my uncle did not look at the ocean. He stood back and watched me. I think I understand his actions better now, after reading Percy's essay, I understand that he was seeing a more authentic ocean, because not only did he have his own experiences, but he now also had mine. He was seeing the ocean from many different views, which when compiled, makes a more authentic and genuine perception.
It can also be said that the only person who has ever seen the Grand Canyon at its truest form is he who saw it first, alone, and uninterrupted. Seeing the Grand Canyon first lets you see it at its authentic form because it has been untouched by human hands. There are no guard rails, or hideous glass pathways that lead from the surface over the canyon. When one sees it alone, his emotional reaction and opinion is only his, he are not feeding off of what his companion is feeling, and his view is not tainted by a few hundred scattered tourists and busses. He who sees it uninterrupted has as much time as he needs. He is not hurried by those who are getting bored. He is has the time to see exactly how much he wants to see, feel how much he wants to feel.
This idea of authentic discovery is not so different from authentic thinking, knowledge and experience should be come by honestly. Not shoved down one’s throat by any other person, company, or government program. When I think of this, I think of the first (and only time) I experienced the ocean. My uncle, who lives near the ocean, and had been there probably countless times, took me. I got out of the car, and though he had been there much more than I had, he let me lead. He let me have space so I could see the ocean for myself, the way the tide rolls up and down the beach, where the water meets the sky, and the way the animals react with the land. I got to hear the waves hit the rocks. I got smell the salt, and feel the freezing cold water on my feet. He did not point to avert my attention to other things that he thought I should be looking at or hearing. He let me discover the ocean the way I wanted to, and act upon my emotions and curiosity. What surprised me was that my uncle did not look at the ocean. He stood back and watched me. I think I understand his actions better now, after reading Percy's essay, I understand that he was seeing a more authentic ocean, because not only did he have his own experiences, but he now also had mine. He was seeing the ocean from many different views, which when compiled, makes a more authentic and genuine perception.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Barbara Walter's Dream
I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king.
If time neither time nor money were objects, and I could interview anyone in the world, past or present, I would love to interview Queen Elizabeth I. I would hope that she would be willing to let me ask difficult or inappropriate questions without suffering the consequences of overstepping her royal boundaries, however. I think she must have been a fascinating woman. To have ruled a country as a woman during those times, when it was a man’s job, and women’s rightful place was as an agreeable, submissive, seen but not heard being, is an enormous accomplishment, and at the same time an enormous amount of burden and pressure. I would ask the following Questions, and then state my reasoning behind those questions:
1.What was the most challenging thing about being a woman, and being the primary leader of a country?
•Maybe it was commanding an army while wearing a dress that covered her ankles. That seems hard to me. There had to be so many tribulations day to day not only being a woman doing the job of a man, but being the only woman to have ever done this job.
2.What was your biggest accomplishment, and your biggest mistake
•Often times, the outsiders see mistakes and accomplishments differently than the ones who actually make them. I would be curious to see her take on her successes and failures.
3.What is the biggest misconception about your life both personally and as a ruler?
•Much of what we know about rulers such as Queen Elizabeth is factual, but surely there is something that was taken the wrong way, exaggerated, or analyzed incorrectly. I would want her to have the chance to set the record straight.
4.Knowing what you do now, would you trade your throne for a more personal life? Perhaps with someone you loved?
•Wouldn’t to marry mean being forced to give up her throne to her husband the king? So, if that seemed unfavorable to her, she sacrificed much in being the primary ruler. She was called the virgin queen, never married, in love (That we know of. See Question 5). Would she trade one for the other?
5.Were you ever in love?
•Purely out of girlish curiosity.
I actually think I could ask Queen Elizabeth enough questions to fill up a week. I would want to give her a chance to be in an interview where she could tell all of this and anything else she felt necessary. I would be intimidated though, in the presence of such a woman.
If time neither time nor money were objects, and I could interview anyone in the world, past or present, I would love to interview Queen Elizabeth I. I would hope that she would be willing to let me ask difficult or inappropriate questions without suffering the consequences of overstepping her royal boundaries, however. I think she must have been a fascinating woman. To have ruled a country as a woman during those times, when it was a man’s job, and women’s rightful place was as an agreeable, submissive, seen but not heard being, is an enormous accomplishment, and at the same time an enormous amount of burden and pressure. I would ask the following Questions, and then state my reasoning behind those questions:
1.What was the most challenging thing about being a woman, and being the primary leader of a country?
•Maybe it was commanding an army while wearing a dress that covered her ankles. That seems hard to me. There had to be so many tribulations day to day not only being a woman doing the job of a man, but being the only woman to have ever done this job.
2.What was your biggest accomplishment, and your biggest mistake
•Often times, the outsiders see mistakes and accomplishments differently than the ones who actually make them. I would be curious to see her take on her successes and failures.
3.What is the biggest misconception about your life both personally and as a ruler?
•Much of what we know about rulers such as Queen Elizabeth is factual, but surely there is something that was taken the wrong way, exaggerated, or analyzed incorrectly. I would want her to have the chance to set the record straight.
4.Knowing what you do now, would you trade your throne for a more personal life? Perhaps with someone you loved?
•Wouldn’t to marry mean being forced to give up her throne to her husband the king? So, if that seemed unfavorable to her, she sacrificed much in being the primary ruler. She was called the virgin queen, never married, in love (That we know of. See Question 5). Would she trade one for the other?
5.Were you ever in love?
•Purely out of girlish curiosity.
I actually think I could ask Queen Elizabeth enough questions to fill up a week. I would want to give her a chance to be in an interview where she could tell all of this and anything else she felt necessary. I would be intimidated though, in the presence of such a woman.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Driving Questions
The research question driving Looking For Zora is “What can be found as evidence in the place where Zora grew up for who she was as a person rather than who she was as an author?” The purpose was to get to know her on a more personal level, and maybe more solidly, by finding her home town and the people she knew, rather than just going off of what was read in her books. In No Name Woman, the question driving the research, even though the story is primarily about her aunt, “who am I in relation to my American present and Chinese past?” The two different cultures make a strange kind of pull on her existence, and I think at this point, as she is fearful of her aunt, she is fearful of her Chinese past, because it makes her have less American “normalcy.”
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Questions
BLOG QUESTIONS FOR DR. JOHNSON
1. In most of my writing, unless I’m forced to write formally,I tend to take a conversational approach. Is this appropriate in this situation?
2. I think I am comma happy! Do I use too many?
3. What do I need the most help with?
4. How is my sentence structure / grammar?
5. What is your favorite color?
1. In most of my writing, unless I’m forced to write formally,I tend to take a conversational approach. Is this appropriate in this situation?
2. I think I am comma happy! Do I use too many?
3. What do I need the most help with?
4. How is my sentence structure / grammar?
5. What is your favorite color?
Monday, October 6, 2008
Writer's Workshop
Questions for Peer Editors:
1. Would this fit one on Zinsser’s forms?
2. Is this cheesy, or weird to read about?
3. Is my punctuation, spelling, and grammar correct?
4. Does it flow okay, and come full circle?
5. Is their good voice?
I hate letting people read my work. I should have added that to the entry where I was describing myself as a writer. SELF CONSCIOUS. I am not sure why it scares me to let other people read my writing. I was especially wary about this one because it was so personal. This workshop, even though uncomfortable for me, was very helpful. All of my questions were answered. As a group we decided that even though all of our papers did fit Zinsser’s forms, even if they didn't it would be alright with us, because just because Zinsser didn't mention it doesn't mean it is not a worthy form. Apparently i shouldn't have worried about this being awkward, because if a teenage boy tells you it made him happy to read about YOUR boyfriend, you must have done at least decently to reach your audience. My group told me I did not cross any invisible boundaries of awkwardness or makes them uncomfortable. They helped me in picking out a few grammar and punctuation errors, which you are very prone to at 3 a.m. I was also told that the voice and flow went nicely, and overall they thought I had a really good paper.
I was sure that they would help me, but I was surprised how much I liked reading their papers also. We did this in High School all the time, but I had known those people forever. I think this helped us get to know some people that we might not have thought we would have anything in common with.
1. Would this fit one on Zinsser’s forms?
2. Is this cheesy, or weird to read about?
3. Is my punctuation, spelling, and grammar correct?
4. Does it flow okay, and come full circle?
5. Is their good voice?
I hate letting people read my work. I should have added that to the entry where I was describing myself as a writer. SELF CONSCIOUS. I am not sure why it scares me to let other people read my writing. I was especially wary about this one because it was so personal. This workshop, even though uncomfortable for me, was very helpful. All of my questions were answered. As a group we decided that even though all of our papers did fit Zinsser’s forms, even if they didn't it would be alright with us, because just because Zinsser didn't mention it doesn't mean it is not a worthy form. Apparently i shouldn't have worried about this being awkward, because if a teenage boy tells you it made him happy to read about YOUR boyfriend, you must have done at least decently to reach your audience. My group told me I did not cross any invisible boundaries of awkwardness or makes them uncomfortable. They helped me in picking out a few grammar and punctuation errors, which you are very prone to at 3 a.m. I was also told that the voice and flow went nicely, and overall they thought I had a really good paper.
I was sure that they would help me, but I was surprised how much I liked reading their papers also. We did this in High School all the time, but I had known those people forever. I think this helped us get to know some people that we might not have thought we would have anything in common with.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
:Personal Essay:
Everyone who knew me, or was even acquainted with me, knew that I was not like most of the girls in my age group. I was not giggling over boys in the hallway; I was beating boys at sports in gym class. I was not passing notes to boys in class, I was leading the discussions. I was not praying some boy would ask me out on a date, on the contrary I turned a few down purely to make a statement. I was focused, determined, ambitious; I left no room for distraction. I surely did not think of love. I thought the girls my age that claimed to have found it were full of hormone based stupidity. I’m sure those people who knew me then would be surprised to learn that I now wear a ring on my left hand. I was not looking for love, but it found me.
I was completely minding my own business. I hung out at that movie theatre, with those same people, every Friday night, because honestly, there is not much else allowed of 14 year old girls. Now, I am not trying to tell you that I fell in some kind of deep, passionate love at this very moment. However, I am suggesting that I scraped the surface that very first day. He came up to talk to me. I remember what I was wearing (jeans and a hoodie, not looking to impress), I remember what movie we saw that night (50 first dates), I remember who I was with (2 of my best friends), but for some reason I cannot remember what he said. I do remember how I felt, the way he looked at me, and that gorgeous smile. My entire “I don’t need some ridiculous boy ruining my life and taking away my focus and perspective” philosophy crumbled at my feet. I had heard a few things about this boy that I wasn’t so fond of, and while I listened to this advice, I just didn’t take it.
Our first date was an “accident” that I’m more than certain was orchestrated by our friends. There were supposed to be ten of us, and it’s hard to believe that 8 people forgetting to show up, leaving just him and me was purely coincidental. I had never been more nervous in my life. My palms were sweating, I was breathing quickly, and my knees were shaking. Looking back now it seems completely immature, but the simply physical affect this boy had on me was incredible. This date turned into many, and the next thing you know we had been dating for three months. Around this time, he told me he loved me. Previously, this word was nonexistent in my vocabulary, other than family of course. However, I was not afraid to use this word now. Not with him.
Thirty minutes distance (which is now how far away we were), does not seem like much now. But to a fifteen year old, it really is. Keeping up a relationship was hard, and when we had two different lives consumed with sports and school it seemed almost impossible. I did love him, although the love that I felt for him then is insignificant for what I feel now, but I started to think. How silly was it to think that you are in love at fifteen? I had nothing to compare this feeling to. This must just be what it is like to be dating. The feeling was normal. I was just experiencing attraction. This was not a connection that would carry on into the future. Why waste each other’s time, when we could be going about our lives easier, and separately. I broke it off, it became too much.
Now interested in dating, I took full advantage of single freedom. I dated around, tried both casual and more serious relationships, all with bad results. I found emptiness everywhere I turned. Nothing compared to what I had felt before. I tried so hard to recreate the feelings that I had once taken for granted, but failed. I was especially surprised at my reaction, the physical aspect. Kissing, which my first experiences with were wonderful and personal, seemed uncomfortable and sometimes, with the less experienced few, repulsive. At this point I started to second guess myself. Maybe I was wrong in thinking that my original feelings were either fabrications or otherwise common.
This took me a while to figure out, around two years to be exact. Even when I did realize this, it was even longer before I could swallow my pride and come to terms with what I was actually thinking and feeling. I like to be in control of everything involving me (it’s a comfort issue) and this includes my emotions. Not being in control scares me. It made me vulnerable, and in my perspective at the time, weak. But as many times as I pushed these feelings aside, and justified my denial as being rational, I could not get him out of my head. I am sorry to say that I drug this boy along all the while I was making my decisions. And questioning my decisions. And re-making my decisions. I know now how much this hurt him, and while I would give anything now to take that pain away, I learned so much in our time apart.
I cannot remember exactly when I reached this epiphany, or how. It is almost like I woke up one morning, and came to terms with what had been there all along. I needed him. I am not one to admit something like that. I have always been stubbornly independent. To admit or to submit was a sign of personal flaw in my eyes at one time, but I suddenly was not afraid to need anymore. It took me a while to get up the nerve to talk to him. A few weeks after regaining contact, my prom was coming up. Although I was asked by someone else, there was only one person I wanted to go with. You can image how much of my pride I had to swallow to ask him. I was so afraid of him saying no. He now tells me it was foolish to stress over that, “Like I could say no” he says.
My favorite memory of our younger years was our first dance as a couple. I may or may not have played a part in having the same song repeated at prom. Tactful, I know. It was purely out of curiosity. I had to see if the feelings that had been absent from my life for so long would resurface, and if they would be as strong. I was surprised to find that they had only grown in strength. Dancing to our song the second time, replaying my favorite memory, his arms around my waste, singing softly in my ear, are among the most wonderful moments of my life.
As wonderful as our prom night was, it took so much to regain his trust. I knew I had made mistakes in my life. I wasn’t sure if I could call them mistakes, however. It was a mistake in the sense that I hurt, quite deeply, the person that I love most in the world. But, in my eyes it was a learning experience. In order to see what I had all along, I had to make these mistakes. I had to explore who I was. I had to be broken hearted to know what it feels to truly be whole. Regaining his trust has been a privilege, and I am honored to say he has given me his love.
Our place in each other’s lives is something Justin has never questioned. I envy his absolute trust in his feelings. He never once doubted our love. He never once doubted me. I feel like I could spend the rest of my life thanking him for his faith and forgiveness.
Since then, the time has both flown by and ached slowly. The little time we have together between both of our school and work related obligations makes it hard on both of us emotionally. It is something we accept however, because we know we have the rest of our lives. It sounds so strange to say that now, that I know I will be with him for the rest of my life. Four years ago I would say that a girl who thought she knew who she would spend the rest of her life with at age eighteen was an ignorant little girl. I surely hope that is not the case with me. In fact, I know it is not. I would say to my then fourteen year old self to give love a chance. Because in opening your heart and your mind to another person, you give yourself the chance to see life in a completely new way. I would tell myself to give love a chance, no matter the age, because love is indifferent to timing.
I feel truly blessed to get to call Justin my boyfriend. I can (and have) write a list of all the things I love about him: his smile, his eyes, his voice, the way he looks with a guitar in his lap, his laughter, his spirit, how silly he is, and how hard he tries to be funny, though often times he is not. Some, if not most of these things seem trivial in the requisite sense, but it is the littlest things that some might not even notice that make me love him the most.
Love often makes me feel vulnerable. I get scared to let someone be so close to me. It really is a frightening ordeal to let someone look into your soul. Love often makes me feel jealous. I resent every moment that any other girl has spent in his arms because of my ignorance. But, love, his love, has taken me amazing places. I love to see the world from this view.
I am not so naïve to think that love is the answer to everything. I am not so naïve to think the one I give my love to is perfect. In fact, sometimes I think there is no one in the world that has the capacity, or knows just the right way, to piss me off. That is a strange thing to realize, that the one you love can infuriate you at times. What is important to realize, however, is the happiness that person brings to your life. What would we know of pleasure if we never experienced any pain? I would rather spend my life arguing with this man, than in constant agreement with any other.
When college was looming around the corner, after the most wonderful summer of my life, I was terrified of what was to come between him and me. I thought about it every day, and often it consumed and directed my feelings. I honestly believed that school and distance would do the same thing that it had before. History would repeat itself. It was very possible, even though I knew I could not make the same mistake twice, it was a mistake that he had not made yet, therefore was vulnerable to. On the first Saturday after school had started, I was stressed, out of my element, and needing a vast amount of comfort from familiar arms. I can see him still sitting across the dinner table that night. My heart had never felt so light. The relief that he gives me is amazing, and I thought that this relief was the best gift he would give me that night. I was wrong.
How surprised I was to see that ring! A wonderful, beautiful, delicate piece of precious metal and gem, that represents something so much more valuable than face worth: A promise of forever. The look in his eyes when he gave it to me was even more reassurance. It is a look I hope my daughter will experience when she meets the one she is meant to be with. I wear his promise on my left hand every day. It is a reminder of his love, of his friendship, and his unwavering commitment to me. It is something I feel both respect and gratitude towards every time I look at it.
My fourteen year old self would probably hang her head in shame if she knew what she was to become, a silly girl in love. How amazed she will be when she feels it for the first time: burning, comforting, engulfing. It is said that the only thing worthy in life is to love and be loved. If that is so I can be confident that thanks to him I will be fortunate enough to experience a life full of value, meaning, and happiness. Something that those who knew me then would be surprised in now think I can find from love. I am surprised however, that I can have both. Not that much about me has changed. I am still that driven and ambitious person, but now I know that while it is important to have ambition and career goals, a life of just that, without love, without him, could hardly be called a life.
Jessica & Justin :: age 14
Jessica and Justin :: age 18 
I was completely minding my own business. I hung out at that movie theatre, with those same people, every Friday night, because honestly, there is not much else allowed of 14 year old girls. Now, I am not trying to tell you that I fell in some kind of deep, passionate love at this very moment. However, I am suggesting that I scraped the surface that very first day. He came up to talk to me. I remember what I was wearing (jeans and a hoodie, not looking to impress), I remember what movie we saw that night (50 first dates), I remember who I was with (2 of my best friends), but for some reason I cannot remember what he said. I do remember how I felt, the way he looked at me, and that gorgeous smile. My entire “I don’t need some ridiculous boy ruining my life and taking away my focus and perspective” philosophy crumbled at my feet. I had heard a few things about this boy that I wasn’t so fond of, and while I listened to this advice, I just didn’t take it.
Our first date was an “accident” that I’m more than certain was orchestrated by our friends. There were supposed to be ten of us, and it’s hard to believe that 8 people forgetting to show up, leaving just him and me was purely coincidental. I had never been more nervous in my life. My palms were sweating, I was breathing quickly, and my knees were shaking. Looking back now it seems completely immature, but the simply physical affect this boy had on me was incredible. This date turned into many, and the next thing you know we had been dating for three months. Around this time, he told me he loved me. Previously, this word was nonexistent in my vocabulary, other than family of course. However, I was not afraid to use this word now. Not with him.
Thirty minutes distance (which is now how far away we were), does not seem like much now. But to a fifteen year old, it really is. Keeping up a relationship was hard, and when we had two different lives consumed with sports and school it seemed almost impossible. I did love him, although the love that I felt for him then is insignificant for what I feel now, but I started to think. How silly was it to think that you are in love at fifteen? I had nothing to compare this feeling to. This must just be what it is like to be dating. The feeling was normal. I was just experiencing attraction. This was not a connection that would carry on into the future. Why waste each other’s time, when we could be going about our lives easier, and separately. I broke it off, it became too much.
Now interested in dating, I took full advantage of single freedom. I dated around, tried both casual and more serious relationships, all with bad results. I found emptiness everywhere I turned. Nothing compared to what I had felt before. I tried so hard to recreate the feelings that I had once taken for granted, but failed. I was especially surprised at my reaction, the physical aspect. Kissing, which my first experiences with were wonderful and personal, seemed uncomfortable and sometimes, with the less experienced few, repulsive. At this point I started to second guess myself. Maybe I was wrong in thinking that my original feelings were either fabrications or otherwise common.
This took me a while to figure out, around two years to be exact. Even when I did realize this, it was even longer before I could swallow my pride and come to terms with what I was actually thinking and feeling. I like to be in control of everything involving me (it’s a comfort issue) and this includes my emotions. Not being in control scares me. It made me vulnerable, and in my perspective at the time, weak. But as many times as I pushed these feelings aside, and justified my denial as being rational, I could not get him out of my head. I am sorry to say that I drug this boy along all the while I was making my decisions. And questioning my decisions. And re-making my decisions. I know now how much this hurt him, and while I would give anything now to take that pain away, I learned so much in our time apart.
I cannot remember exactly when I reached this epiphany, or how. It is almost like I woke up one morning, and came to terms with what had been there all along. I needed him. I am not one to admit something like that. I have always been stubbornly independent. To admit or to submit was a sign of personal flaw in my eyes at one time, but I suddenly was not afraid to need anymore. It took me a while to get up the nerve to talk to him. A few weeks after regaining contact, my prom was coming up. Although I was asked by someone else, there was only one person I wanted to go with. You can image how much of my pride I had to swallow to ask him. I was so afraid of him saying no. He now tells me it was foolish to stress over that, “Like I could say no” he says.
My favorite memory of our younger years was our first dance as a couple. I may or may not have played a part in having the same song repeated at prom. Tactful, I know. It was purely out of curiosity. I had to see if the feelings that had been absent from my life for so long would resurface, and if they would be as strong. I was surprised to find that they had only grown in strength. Dancing to our song the second time, replaying my favorite memory, his arms around my waste, singing softly in my ear, are among the most wonderful moments of my life.
As wonderful as our prom night was, it took so much to regain his trust. I knew I had made mistakes in my life. I wasn’t sure if I could call them mistakes, however. It was a mistake in the sense that I hurt, quite deeply, the person that I love most in the world. But, in my eyes it was a learning experience. In order to see what I had all along, I had to make these mistakes. I had to explore who I was. I had to be broken hearted to know what it feels to truly be whole. Regaining his trust has been a privilege, and I am honored to say he has given me his love.
Our place in each other’s lives is something Justin has never questioned. I envy his absolute trust in his feelings. He never once doubted our love. He never once doubted me. I feel like I could spend the rest of my life thanking him for his faith and forgiveness.
Since then, the time has both flown by and ached slowly. The little time we have together between both of our school and work related obligations makes it hard on both of us emotionally. It is something we accept however, because we know we have the rest of our lives. It sounds so strange to say that now, that I know I will be with him for the rest of my life. Four years ago I would say that a girl who thought she knew who she would spend the rest of her life with at age eighteen was an ignorant little girl. I surely hope that is not the case with me. In fact, I know it is not. I would say to my then fourteen year old self to give love a chance. Because in opening your heart and your mind to another person, you give yourself the chance to see life in a completely new way. I would tell myself to give love a chance, no matter the age, because love is indifferent to timing.
I feel truly blessed to get to call Justin my boyfriend. I can (and have) write a list of all the things I love about him: his smile, his eyes, his voice, the way he looks with a guitar in his lap, his laughter, his spirit, how silly he is, and how hard he tries to be funny, though often times he is not. Some, if not most of these things seem trivial in the requisite sense, but it is the littlest things that some might not even notice that make me love him the most.
Love often makes me feel vulnerable. I get scared to let someone be so close to me. It really is a frightening ordeal to let someone look into your soul. Love often makes me feel jealous. I resent every moment that any other girl has spent in his arms because of my ignorance. But, love, his love, has taken me amazing places. I love to see the world from this view.
I am not so naïve to think that love is the answer to everything. I am not so naïve to think the one I give my love to is perfect. In fact, sometimes I think there is no one in the world that has the capacity, or knows just the right way, to piss me off. That is a strange thing to realize, that the one you love can infuriate you at times. What is important to realize, however, is the happiness that person brings to your life. What would we know of pleasure if we never experienced any pain? I would rather spend my life arguing with this man, than in constant agreement with any other.
When college was looming around the corner, after the most wonderful summer of my life, I was terrified of what was to come between him and me. I thought about it every day, and often it consumed and directed my feelings. I honestly believed that school and distance would do the same thing that it had before. History would repeat itself. It was very possible, even though I knew I could not make the same mistake twice, it was a mistake that he had not made yet, therefore was vulnerable to. On the first Saturday after school had started, I was stressed, out of my element, and needing a vast amount of comfort from familiar arms. I can see him still sitting across the dinner table that night. My heart had never felt so light. The relief that he gives me is amazing, and I thought that this relief was the best gift he would give me that night. I was wrong.
How surprised I was to see that ring! A wonderful, beautiful, delicate piece of precious metal and gem, that represents something so much more valuable than face worth: A promise of forever. The look in his eyes when he gave it to me was even more reassurance. It is a look I hope my daughter will experience when she meets the one she is meant to be with. I wear his promise on my left hand every day. It is a reminder of his love, of his friendship, and his unwavering commitment to me. It is something I feel both respect and gratitude towards every time I look at it.
My fourteen year old self would probably hang her head in shame if she knew what she was to become, a silly girl in love. How amazed she will be when she feels it for the first time: burning, comforting, engulfing. It is said that the only thing worthy in life is to love and be loved. If that is so I can be confident that thanks to him I will be fortunate enough to experience a life full of value, meaning, and happiness. Something that those who knew me then would be surprised in now think I can find from love. I am surprised however, that I can have both. Not that much about me has changed. I am still that driven and ambitious person, but now I know that while it is important to have ambition and career goals, a life of just that, without love, without him, could hardly be called a life.
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