What a year so far. In April 2017 I will turn fifty. It’s a milestone I’m unsure I want to check off on my calendar, but l know full well the future will claim me even if I don’t want it too. What a strange ride to where I am now. Lost one identity, found a new one along the way. Lost and reacquired my body, which I hadn’t known I’d left until a handsome young man gave it back to me. Thank you, Joshua, I will forever be grateful to you for showing me I was still a sexual entity.
It started bittersweet when a two-year relationship ended in October 2015. It was only a joining of hearts and minds, not bodies, but he gave me back my soul, which once again, I didn’t realize I’d lost. Then there was Joshua, the most unexpected birthday surprise of my life. He walked into my life shortly before my forty-ninth birthday in April 2016. As I watched us, I knew we would super-nova out much too fast. We burned bright immediately and I regained not only my body, but some of my youth. I will forever cry through that smile he gave me.
Then in June, I was gifted a horse in my life. One I could call my own, and she gave me a foal, a filly that I immediately knew was the superhorse I’d always hoped to find. Once again I had my own horses and I could raise the filly, Caru, with only my input, backed up by my twenty-five plus years of knowledge. No baggage to lug with us from previous lives and owners. I was given back my horsey girl identity, and she is happily thriving once again.
I’m working much too hard at earning enough to live and keep my horses, so the writing and authoress stuff has taken a far backseat, but that was the other identity I cultivated during my six years of solitude without a person I could call my own, or the horses. All I had was myself and all I could do was write. Those characters were not only my friends and lovers, but also my rehabilitation as I rediscovered who I was meant to be. Through the writing, I cultivated my emotional intelligence and dragged myself out of suicidal depression.
I miss Joshua right now, but my life is full enough for someone about to turn fifty. I am strong and healthy and my mental, emotional and physical fitness is balanced. It’s a great feeling to regain and amalgamate my old identity with my new one as Payne. I am a much more complex person too. Although I spend over ninety percent of my time alone, and I rarely interact with others, I have the horses, and they are my church and my balance so I guess it’s working.
I’ve learned that change isn’t so bad if it’s addition and growth.
I still dream about having my own person, but I realize now it’s all fantasy and will never come true. I find it an impossibility that someone would love me more than all the other minutia of life. I’ve never been the one picked and put first. Recently I was called delusional because I still wished for and felt I was worthy of that kind of love. There is a soon to follow journal post on this exact subject, but I’ve discovered I am fine if it never happens. I obviously don’t need intimacy to survive because I’ve lived the majority of my life celibate, with only short bursts of connections. It is a want and only that.
I am now mature enough to differentiate between the physical and the emotional, and to know that often, they do not intersect.
My crave is and will always be for the emotional, mental and physical to magically interconnect between me and a worthy male. My directive is to make the relationship, our love of each other, and our personal growth, the most important things.
I want to be more important than their egos and their rightness. I want to be more important than the rules and ethics and yes, even their perceived map of how it should be. I want to be more important than the stuff, the land, the ownership and the acquisitions. I want to be more important than the bills that need to get paid or how we struggle to survive. I do realize this is all fantasy and fiction, and not how this matrix works, but a girl needs a dream to survive.
This girl has and will always keep those things as her focus. It’s a raging storm out there in the world, and I seek refuge in the eye. I seek peace, harmony, love, passion and most of all balance in all aspects of my life. To share that with another would be the unimaginable for me. The end of the rainbow or the winning ticket.
But I digress. My forty-ninth year was a big one. I broke my seven-year tenure of celibacy with the most epic connection imaginable with the most immense young man I could have never dreamt up. He was a gift I will forever cherish. Even though we couldn’t make it work, he is my last love. I can’t reinvest again and hope to hold onto my sanity. The self-doubt and self-loathing is much too great to bear.
I’m good though, I feel resuscitated and as if I can go on. I think I finally let go of finding and being found by my soul-mate. It’s a good feeling to let that one go. No more waiting, no more searching, no more hoping. It’s a good release. Enter reality horsey girl. Enjoy what you have. Be thankful for the two friends who care about you, and rejoice in having been brought back to life.
It’s raining outside, which I find ironic since the last time I sat here and cried my eyes out it was mimicking me in the same fashion. I know the tears are good and how my heart clears itself. And guess what, here I am writing again. I have a bunch of self-therapy I need to get out, so the blogs will be forthcoming as they spill from my head through my fingers.
The writing, more than anything else in my life is how I heal myself. I must tell someone so I can get it out of my head. I don’t necessarily need a response; I just need to get it out so I can see it for myself. I’ve always published everything I write, and for now, that isn’t going to change.