The Broad Running Broad

I don’t care if it’s lame – I like to celebrate half birthdays.

For starters, my half birthday being in the summer gives me way more options for fun stuff that mid-December typically doesn’t allow. Primarily, parking my big white bum by the pool and getting my sunshine fix. Actually, now that I think about it, that’s really the only thing I can’t do in December that I absolutely love doing. Anyways ….

Since I’m halfway through being 31, June 16th seems like a good time to look back on the past six months and have that talk with myself about how they’ve been going, what all I’ve accomplished or areas I’ve had to (or are still) having to overcome.

One of my favorite childhood movies is The Prince of Egypt, since I first saw it at a time in my life when I felt like I would always be stuck in a place I never wanted to be, around a family who was hostile to me being there with them and with someone who was supposed to put me first, but made it plain he wouldn’t. The story of the Hebrews in bondage spoke to me then because of that old unhappiness. Now with that time long behind me, The Prince of Egypt is so much more nuanced.

One of my favorite scenes is when Moses is with the Midians after saving Tzipporah and her younger sisters. Jethro, her father and the high priest, wants to honor Moses for saving his daughters. Moses is ashamed after killing a man and fleeing Egypt, which prompts him to reply he has done nothing in his life worthy of honor. This is where Jethro sings “Through Heaven’s Eyes” to explain the greater meaning and purpose of life to Moses. One of the lyrics took on a new meaning to me as an adult: “No life can escape being blown about/ by the winds of change and chance.”

Ain’t that the truth.

I started off 31 grieving and fighting through the depression that grief brought on. Dec. 16th is my birthday; Dec. 30th was the first anniversary of losing Grandpa. The holidays were an interesting time, to say the least. Then came January 1st, where it felt like a shroud was lifted from me. The heavy depression subsided, and there was peace. That’s not to say I never miss Grandpa, but I feel like I can move forward with him now, like life can go on.

I discovered inner child therapy and started unpacking some old hurts I didn’t realize I’d been carrying with me for decades. Another shroud was lifted. The memories I suppressed from the ages of five to ten were finally coming back in full color. Granted, these memories were awful ones that I had blocked out for a reason. But I’m not in survival mode anymore, so I let those memories come back to me in all their awful glory. And then it was time to let them go, with the final acknowledgement that what happened to me did happen and frankly, never seeing any of those people again is the best thing that could happen to me. I’m safe within myself and can relax.

I got the news about the layoff in March. I don’t want to be a broken record on that, so the most I’ll say is the timing of learning my old position was getting cut to accepting my new role couldn’t have been any more perfect. The two-month period of being an inactive employee not only gave me time to focus on job searching, but it also gave me time to dedicate to my spring training. I grew so much with my running as well as my lifting, and got to cross off new adventures. Nashville? It finally happened, and I embarked on the longest solo road trip I’ve taken to date. Pittsburgh? A city that moved me in a way I could have never predicted. Cleveland? Any chance to head up north I’m taking. The lake shore brings me to life.

Then I started my new job the day after returning from Cleveland. It hasn’t been a month yet, and this is the most relaxed I’ve felt in a new job. My coworkers are lovely, I’m growing in the direction I’ve wanted to go, and this job is a springboard to some changes in my personal life I’m planning on making later on this year.

And finally, I had a two-year-old weight lifted off my shoulders on Memorial Day weekend. Do you remember the old friend I mentioned running into on Memorial Day at the pool. Well, confession time: it was my ex. He moved to my complex after we’d been dating a year, so we’re kinda sorta neighbors. I knew the day was coming where we’d run into each other and honestly, I wasn’t looking forward to it. If anything, the thought of it filled me with ire. Why do I have to see him at all?

But then something happened. Some other residents who used to attend his alma mater and knew him were at the pool. One of the girls in that group used to work with me at an old job, and he and I both had similar, unsavory experiences with her. Frankly, they’re all leftover mean girls. Considering we’re all pushing 30 if not in our 30s, the passive-aggressive crap, “sassiness” and entitlement is pathetic. Simply put, I don’t like these women.

And I also didn’t like when one of them announced my ex was present and that he’s “weird” with those dumb little snickers.

I’ve never been in a fight in my life, but in that moment I found myself wondering which one I could take down first. Don’t any of you talk about him like that.

My ex was manning the grill and offered to make me a cheeseburger. I was both hungry and feeling protective over him, so we had burgers together. And wound up talking for God knows how long.

And you know what Reader-friends? I wasn’t irate like I thought I would be.

This isn’t a story about how spark flew, we fell back in love and are happily back together. But it is a story about how two people who have history together were able to talk again, and one of them realized she didn’t need to be unforgiving. The romantic part is long over, but we’re friends. I wouldn’t contemplate getting into a fist fight with leftover mean girls for just anyone.

I even surprised him last weekend at the St. Catharine FunFest. He was the old friend I’d referenced in my last post, and on breaks we hung out with the new friends he’d made and introduced me to. I was honest (with his blessing) when his friends and bandmates asked how we knew each other: “We’re exes on good terms.”

As someone who used to think all post break-up dynamics were bound to be acrimonious, I’m enjoying being wrong on something. For once being wrong is actually pretty nice. I was even dancing around with some of his new friends during the set. Had to remind myself this was a family event though. My mother would be mortified if I forgot.

And speaking of dancing, there’s an additional “Through Heaven’s Eyes” lyric I’m going to end this one on. “No life can escape being blown about/By the winds of change and chance/And though you never know all the steps/You must learn to join the dance/You must learn to join the dance.”

So there it is. The first half of 31 has been time of growth, change and unexpected forgiveness. I’m optimistic for what the last half of 31 will bring me. In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy this buttercream birthday cake ice cream before it melts on me.

Yours in life,

Allison