Tag Archives | authenticity

Why I Divorced My Best Friend of 25 Years

BabyHands

(Photo Credit: Uploaded by Haiinee)

No, I’m not talking about my husband.

I’m talking about my best friend from high school,

the one I stayed up into the wee hours of the night talking to, across states, while she was in medical school and I was a young college student and mother of two little ones;

the one whose wedding I read at, and whose wedding she was matron of honor at;

the one whose eldest child I filmed being born as I hid behind the curtain by the doorway of her delivery room, and whose second child’s delivery, I had to leave because of an emergency cesarean;

the one with whom I commiserated on my heartbreak over my brother who was drawn to toxic relationships, and a mother who was a broken woman after her favorite child’s death many, many years ago;

the one who commiserated with me on things she went through, and did, that I can never repeat.

It was the kind of friendship that inspired me to always introduce her as, “my best friend from high school.”  I always wanted to honor her, our friendship, by this somewhat childish, romanticized way.

It was the kind that had me teach my children that she was their aunt, and that her family was our family.

It was the kind that inspired me to give her the Precious Moments figurine of one girl comforting another as a symbol of our friendship; I had little money back then, and this was expensive to me, and it meant a lot for me to give it to her.

It was the kind that had me dropping everything on my end of the world to be there for her whenever she needed me, even when I had kids and she didn’t, even when I didn’t have any support of family or a mate and she did.

We could not be more different, my once-bestie and I.  We both made mistakes in life that the other wouldn’t dream of.  We both had skills and strengths that the other hadn’t developed.  These differences, we marveled and laughed about often over the years.  Yet we always said that inside, we were the same.

But time started ticking our differences more loudly.  We always had the thread of our shared adolescence and life trials before, but the thread wore too thin to hold anything together anymore.  There is no escaping the curling tendrils of one’s values; like a creeping vine, it eventually takes over the person.

She followed all societal expectations, from mannerisms to presentation, career-choice to family life, dress to social engagements; she sought “perfection,” praise, approval, status quo, and proudly accomplished all these things.  I sought authenticity, transparency, simplicity, a less constricted, less socially fabricated lifestyle, and a more intuitive way of thinking, with which her only-science-allowed mindset disagreed.  We both grew up and grew firmer in what we stood for, and therefore could no longer occupy the same space in the same way.

It did not happen overnight, the dissolution of our relationship.  It was not over one thing, or event, or issue.  Our needs and core values were just not the same, and neither of us could bend towards the other to move alongside her anymore.  And trust was lost in the process.

I know, a lot of people may say, “Twenty five years!  What a waste to throw it all away!”  But I don’t see it that way.  Like a marriage or job that you’ve given so much of your life to, when you’ve squeezed out your efforts and intentions and yet do not feel true to your best self, walking away is honoring the world through honoring your code.

Yesterday was what it was: beautiful or not beautiful, and it is done.

Today, you still need to be nourished, to feel alive, to spend your time in work and company that is aligned with your values and vision to bring you true peace, joy, and harmony.

I still love her very much, and if she called me and needed me for anything, I would be there.  But just as in a marriage that has burned out, from its ashes can be born a life of greater wisdom and truth, and thus can begin a path of authenticity, from where light blooms. Continue Reading →

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These Babies are Real: The Beauty of Authenticity

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(Photo: Courtesy of Stock.xchng)

While in the midst of my most confusing, turbulent years, a relative casually commented about girls with implants, saying, “I’d rather have fake pretty over real ugly any day.”  The word play sounded convincing, but at the heart of it was the sad sign of the times, where the core message falls into the bloated “WTF” category.

That comment may be an extreme expression of the sentiment, but it was brutally honest about a viewpoint that manifests itself in many areas of our society.   I have a close friend who feels the need to “keep up” with her image to the world, and she has been on that treadmill for so long that she has become accustomed to it, and in her need to present “perfection,” any insinuation of human imperfection has her scurrying to try to validate against it.  It’s both sad and frustrating to witness.   A family member of mine has been in a series of relationships with people so disconnected from the truth of their own beings that any no real progress could take root, neither on personal nor relationship levels.  I see people putting humanity and/or positivity quotes (the “new cool”) all over Facebook, yet defining success as accumulation of material things, among other contradictions to their campaigns.

It seems that this B.S.itis stems from deep insecurities, which is rooted from the lack of understanding oneself.  When I wanted to start a serious blog, one that I could truly identify with and be able to consistently write about, I had no idea what I had to offer that could give value to others.  I was a Jane of All Trades and master of none, simply because my life routed me every which way, so I could not develop any socially marketable skills – I only knew how to survive, and I learned about the funny ways of the world, and the misconception of the misconception of bad people.  But mostly, what came naturally to me was my introspection, and through my “20 lost years,” this understanding deepened.  The one thing that I knew how to do was be real.  And I would learn that it was not a common ability.

I started off believing that I was doing the right thing, being genuine, kind, fair.  The ridiculousness of chance: me, being this kind of person surrounded by completely opposite types of people.  I stood my ground for a long time, but eventually, I started wondering if I was, in fact, wrong.  At one point, I even thought that I should try to be more superficial, care about amassing money, care about what people thought, because, after all, when you worry, you scurry, and maybe I needed to scurry to fit in, because then my life would be easier and happier, right?  Hypothesis FAIL.

The only thing I learned about that experiment was that such people lived a busy, frantic life. It was flashy and noisy, but without substantial joy.  It was distracting enough on the surface to ignore the loneliness deep inside, and you had to keep chasing the chaos so that you don’t ever have to face the truth of how void of meaning there was in this impressive commotion in which you’re partaking.  Although the power of introverts is coming into awareness, the perversion of extroversion is still society’s soup du jour.

All of this masking is really a disservice to us as a society, as well as individuals.  What kind of society do we have if we’re a network of weak links?  As individuals, how do you fix a problem if you are unaware of it, or if you hide it from others?  Imagine if people could come out and be honest about their true selves because they felt safe in the world they lived in.  If everyone in the world could feel unabridged safety, love, acceptance, there would be no need for validation through power as exhibited in its many morale-(and sometimes moral)-crumbling forms – we may have discovered the formula for world peace!

Well, that’s not a guarantee, but there would certainly be peace in the worlds of our individual lives.  And I would imagine that not many people would be opposed to that scenario.

Being authentic, simply put, is being honest, humble, vulnerable, and human in the most edifying, interconnecting way.  (Not to be confused with being an unapologetic jerk, although if true jerks took on this approach to authenticity by saying, “I’m an asshole, accept it,” they actually do us a service – who wouldn’t want such a fair warning?)

Most insecure, fearful people have been rubbed raw by hurts and disappointments, and so they wrap themselves in layer after layer of all kinds of numbing material, some harder than others, some pricklier than others, but all burying the truth.  It’s no way of living, for we born to be alive, and unless life’s hurdles shut us down, we desperately crave living in this state of convergence of who we really are and who we pretend to be:

(“Breaking Bad”: Walter White – “Alive” Scene)

Authenticity removes the muffling layers, catalyzing self discovery, enhancing life experiences, and teaching the world not only tolerance, but celebration of the individual.  I’ll take this real beauty any day.

Related: “Choosing the Red Pill”

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Everything is a Disclaimer

“I have had no professional training…” – William Hung, 2004 Contestant of “American Idol”

What makes William Hung so endearing is his unblinking disillusionment or otherwise disconnection, by default or design, from society’s view of him.

Over the past decade, I have created several blogs with unsuccessful follow-thru, and I realize now why I was afraid to commit:  I was scared.

What if I fail miserably because I have had no professional training and am disillusioned by what I think the world wants?  What if I let my audience down because I do not execute perfectly orchestrated, eloquent performances? What if my subject is too intense, my language too simple, my grammar too ungrammaticable?

What if I come across as too negative (the only times I was inspired to write were when I was pissed off), too vain (after all, who cares what I think?), or shamefully ignorant to what everyone in the world OBVIOUSLY knows, that I, as a blogger, should be a reliable source of? 

What if they hate me for ending my sentences in prepositions?

Although William wasn’t textbook talented, polished, or in any conventional standards, a magnetic force, he was simply being himself without harming anyone, enjoying what he did with reckless abandonment, and therefore getting the point.

I’m not William Hung.  He’s a tough act to follow.  I know what you’re thinking.

What can I expect from someone who quotes William Hung? 

That she will give it her best and have no regrets. You can quote me on that.  😉

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