Cyclical Meanderings……….. part 5

Just realized that it’s been eleven months since I started my hormone treatments. My first pill and patch were taken and applied on the 27th of March 2013. I guess I was going to write something like this at the one year mark, probably will anyways, but well, a lot can happen in eleven months.

A lot has happened in eleven months…..

It’s as if I’ve lived more over this relatively tiny period of time, less than 3% of my overall life, than I have up to this point.

When I started my treatments, I was hoping life would improve, I knew that my life as I knew it was going to end, not just my marriage and the story that I had been struggling for for so long, but that everything would change. At the same time, I was so terrified that I would slip into the same depressed, angry, empty life that I had been living up to that point, just this time as a woman, or at least the best approximation of one that I could be, or thought I was.

That hasn’t happened

Even when I was going through some form of depression at the end of last year, the months in which I wasn’t writing, it was difficult, it really was, the pain in my back was holding me down, and at the same time I was letting the pain hold me down, I’m accustomed to avoiding life due to pain, and it risked becoming a vicious downwards spiral. Even with all that, I was still more alive than when I was him. I could still smile at myself in the mirror in the mornings, forcing myself to actually live wasn’t as difficult, and it was easier to forget that everything had crumbled not so long ago. All things considered, I was still doing pretty good, I just didn’t really see it at the time.

Like winters often do, they slow life down, and the almost fantasy book life that I had been living during the summer ground to a halt. I don’t think I was entirely expecting that, and I definitely wasn’t ready for it.

I met countless people last year, realized that I was in love with my best friend, yet once the cold came, I felt alone, he wasn’t really there for me anymore, and so many people that I connected with just shrunk into their own shells. I had become dependent upon them without realizing it, counting on them to help me feel the joy that was so easy to find during the warm months.

But through the cold, and the snow, I realized that I did have a couple of people that remained, our connection was strong and still is, and I count these girls as my best friends, and they feel the same about me. We can talk about anything, they have supported me over the past week as I dealt with the loss of my first love, as I have supported them over the past year when they needed it and reached out.

I also began to realize that I had the most important person that anyone could have, which was myself. Even if you are married for decades, the first person you need to be able to count on is you, anything else isn’t fair to those that support you.

Feeling like I had lost so many people made me forget that the ones that counted were still there. Even though pretty much anyone can feel comfortable and open up around me, it doesn’t mean that we will continue along our paths together, it just means that we connected, our lines came close for a brief flash, and then drifted apart again, both of us, hopefully, the better for it.

But I made it through the first part of the winter, re-grounded myself, and as the dreaded holiday season approached, I began to find companionship. A man who is still my occasional lover, a new friend who introduced me to the one who would become my first love, or perhaps I should move into the third person briefly and say Dawn’s first love, I don’t want to lessen the experiences I’ve had with the women I’ve loved in the past, it was all real, but right now, the way I feel about it, he was *my* first love, not just another love of mine.

I notice now that I began to live another fantasy with him, one in which I ignored the bad so that I didn’t have to work on it, and only focused on the good, and one that he encouraged with his behaviour. I saw a future, I saw possibilities, and he did as well for a time, but like everything that burns too hot, and burns from a source that is still wounded, it flared out. Another line crossing mine, twisting around it for a short period of time, tightly, intimately then poof….. gone.

But I’ve beat that horse to death already, and it has ended, and I’m moving on.

I had started to live for myself though, even before he showed up, thankfully my depression did not lift due to meeting these new people who I would share my heart and my bed with, otherwise, losing him would have been far worse than it was. The strength was coming from within me, not from without. Before my previous birthday the clouds had begun to lift, and now, three months later, the clouds are still at bay, they darken my life from time to time, but my spirit can push them away. As I wrote earlier in one of my Synchronicity posts, when you open yourself up to the possibility of new experiences, they will begin to present themselves.

You still have to go for it though….

I changed my look, I finally got the courage to get my tattoo, I began to open up sexually, I took risks, chances, and like always happens for me, I was rewarded. I’ve experienced hope, love, passion, countless orgasms, a tantric experience, sexual experiences that for me had always remained in the realm of fantasy, lovers, friends, connections, but of course, pain and loss and fear and anxiety, but without the risk of these things, there is no chance for true joy.

It’s also getting harder and harder to see him in the mirror. The only time where he shows up, and no longer every day, is when I get out of the shower, my hair slicked back over my head, face scrubbed clean, the still-kinda-male receeding hairline clear as day (at least it’s not getting worse!), but then I smile, and I am back, the true me is back.

I get dressed, and look at myself in the mirror in my bra and underwear, and I’m stunned at the woman I see, she is so beautiful, and when I’m fully naked with a lover, I still feel just as beautiful, no shame, no fear, just joy.

I’ve enjoyed time on my own, twice now, the only times in my life when I was capable of doing so. Fear and apprehension gripped me as I set out, but only calm remained. Enjoying a coffee at Chapters reading, eating a great meal alone, seeing a concert and headbanging like I used to when I was kid, completely alone, and it was joyful, beautiful.

I’m gaining my strength.

I’ve always looked to my partner to provide that calm for me, that base, that grounding. Once I had that, then I was free to do anything, but now, I’m finding that I can provide that for myself. We all need support, and love, and friendship, but if we can’t stand on our own, smiling towards the future, sure of ourselves, no amount of support from others will ever be enough, it may get us through a day, or a rocky period, but eventually you will be alone, even if just for an hour or two before sleeping, and at those times, you need to be your own support. That is how I had lived my life in the past, and how I thought I was living with him, thinking the strength and peace I had was a gift from him, but I’ve realized that the strength is from within me. And this allows me to be a better healer for others, as well as allowing others to help heal me when I need it, and at the end of the day, I think that is what I am, a healer, a story teller, a confidant, and to me, that is an amazing gift.

As usual, I didn’t know where this was going, but I think I need to stop here, still have lots to do to get ready for the kinky party tomorrow đŸ˜‰

I’ll leave you with my eleven month photo, I feel beautiful in it, and that’s pretty awesome

 


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