Tuesday, March 25th, 2008
small town girl.
When I finally made the decision to move in with Jonathan, I was surprised at how easy it was to just… leave. The love between Jonathan & I was impeccable; something that was undeniable & inspiring. It seemed like the most rational & logical thing to do at the time. So, with little reluctance & a lot of anxiety, I left my childhood home (I had stayed in the same town, in the same house, in the same bedroom for all of my life upon moving). I remember driving to Jonathan from my mother’s house, tears streaming down my face. Not in sadness, but in happiness & accomplishment & fear. I was proud of myself for finally deciding to do something for myself & I made a vow that from that point on, my life would finally begin.
& it has. It has been almost a year that I have been living with Jonathan & the transformation within me is indescribable. Although… it took me many, many, many months to get to where I am now. There were many downfalls, a few gut-wrenching surprises, a lot of nerves & a few dozen, very scary panic attacks, all of which I survived but at the time it seemed like I was dying. But of course… what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
When I first started working as a front desk coordinator at a salon (one of my first real jobs, next to doing hair for a few months) I felt like I was lost but in a good way. As though I could find my way around this foreign land & maybe conquer some of it, as well. It was tremendously overwhelming to be so far away from home & having to adapt to new surroundings & situations all on my own, without the physical guidance of my mother, my best friend. Sometimes I felt liberated about this, but mostly I crumbled. One day, I was having this horrible homesickness; the kind that literally numbs you & makes you question reality. My manager pulled me aside out of the blue & told me quite bluntly that I am too much of a nice girl & that I need to grow tough skin. Now… this wasn’t the first time I have heard this but for some reason, it bothered me. I started wondering how she could see through me in that way because I hadn’t spoken to my manager about my homesickness or anything like that. We weren’t even really friends. But somehow, she was able to detect in me something that I thought I was able to hide really well. She said “you must stop wearing your heart on your sleeve. You must stop being so kind to people; people will see your kindness & mistake it for weakness & naivety.” I was furious at this; after all, how dare she?! But, I took her words very personally & made it my mission to be tougher, harder, colder & not so friendly in order to not be walked on & to be taken seriously. Because, for someone of my age, no one really takes you seriously & it’s nothing against you… it’s just expected that 20 year olds are quite, well, oblivious. I was so gung-ho about this new mission that I even started walking like a snooty bitch, just to give people the idea of “don’t fuck with me.” I laugh at this now — this was only a mere 10 months ago — because I was really quite ridiculous. I was only fooling myself.
After a few weeks of this false front, I began to grow tired of being a bitch. It’s hard work for someone who doesn’t know how to do it! I started to do the strangest things out of the blue, as if to prove to myself that I am still in some sort of control & I can be nice & tough whenever. As if it were this sort of switch I could turn on & off. I, this painfully shy & nice girl, was now starting to become bold in her efforts to prove something to herself. An example of this would be that once, I was standing in line at the grocery store & this girl in front of me had a rather ugly purse… I mean, it was hideous. So I blurted out “I love your purse.” I startled myself at my dishonest remark, but I was simply just trying to be nice to prove that I could, indeed, be nice. She smiled, said thank you & went on her way. I went on my way, too & while I did, I strutted my usual snooty bitch walk, proving that there is a time & place for this new craft I was attempting. (Oh, brother.)
But this ludicrous fad ended unexpectedly & thank goodness it did. This is what happened: I was moping to my Lover one day about how I wished that I could buy something fancy since, at the time, I hadn’t been shopping for many months. Lover, being the dear he is, then reached into his wallet & handed me a twenty dollar bill & said “Buy yourself something nice, but don’t spend it in one place.” I never carry money on me & I never think to take out money… so something about it being HIS money & so readily available in my wallet made this somewhat of a thrill for me. I kept that twenty dollar bill in my wallet for about a week. I felt like a child; what would I buy with my twenty dollars? I decided that I must save it for something really, really good. One afternoon, after having lunch with Lover at his work, I was driving home. I exited the freeway & came to a stoplight at an intersection. To the left of me, there was an old homeless man, standing outside in the cold, holding a sign proclaiming his misfortune. He looked so sad, so helpless & so desperate. Without even thinking — & I really didn’t think, I didn’t have time because the light was going to change any second — I reached inside of my purse, grabbed my wallet & took out my treasured twenty dollar bill. I made sure to crumple it a bit so that it would seem as though I was giving him a dollar… I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I rolled down my car window & handed the crinkled bill to him. He took it, said “God bless you” a few times… examined the bill as if to determine if it were real… began to put it in his pocket & then he checked it out again. His eyes became quite wide (all of this happened within seconds, mind you) almost in disbelief & he seemed to shake his head as if to say “you just gave me twenty dollars! are you crazy?!” But I just looked at him, nodded & — perfect timing — the light turned green & I sped off to my home.
There was so much joy in my heart that day; I was beaming all afternoon. What a terrific, spontaneous, random act of kindness! When Jonathan asked me what I bought with my twenty dollars it was all I could do to keep from saying “I bought myself back.” But I just smiled & said that I gave it to a homeless man.
Since then, I do the best I can to give to the poor on the streets (there are hundreds of them on the streets of LA daily) if I happen to have some cash on me, which is rare. I also remind myself of that moment whenever I start to compromise myself & what I truly stand for. There is nothing wrong with wearing my heart on my sleeve; there is nothing wrong with being kind & loyal & a bit naive for the benefit of others. There is nothing wrong with being a small town girl.
on Tuesday, March 25th, 2008 at 5:06 pm:
There is nothing wrong with being a small town girl.
Also, to where you moved in California is quite the leap for a small town girl. I used to live in Irvine so I’m quite familiar.
I’m living in the town where I went to high school, and it’s small, especially compared to where I’m looking to move- Toronto, Canada.
=D
This inspired me.
on Tuesday, March 25th, 2008 at 11:45 pm:
That is seriously wonderful. And I love the bitch walk.
on Wednesday, March 26th, 2008 at 12:33 am:
people are so foolish arent they? its sad that people would think that being kind is weak. kindness in not synonomous with being weak. you just have to be wise. and i know what you mean with the being 20 thing and must be an oblivious to how the world works. its frustrating
on Wednesday, March 26th, 2008 at 6:20 am:
*DEEP sigh*
you just took me way back girl. When I was moving in with hubby, I sorta just.. went. I was ok lol. What can I say - I was very deep in love and rightfully so. Living together wasnt difficult at all. Not only did I find THE best match for me, he LIKED cleaning. He thought it was fun. He made it fun lol and well some good habits rubbed off. He took over laundry too - who was I to complain? We grew alot together.. *sigh* I miss him so much
gosh I love your writing. You remind me of so much and you make me laugh. “snooty bitch” stuff - har har ..
I tell you what
I was a receptionist too at a swanky health club. I believe nearly everyone commented on my niceness. It was Manhattan so for some it was a pleasant surprise, for others it was disbelief.
Even if I were to pretend to be not that friendly (read - just don’t say much as opposed to my reg. big smile and hello), I snap out of it in min. The only thing that gets in the way is a fight with my sig. other and even that wouldnt be too bad .. hubby wasnt like my ex who lived to make me suffer. He hated fighting and would call me back (tee hee, thank God bc sometimes my pride was such a b*tch)
anyway you’ve got a wonderful man on your hands. I’m so happy for you!
oh and that was the sweetest thing you did with your treasured twenty! lol I knew exactly how you felt that whole week (you see- you make me feel a lot less crazy bc I thought I was the only one who thought/felt that way)
(( hugs ))
you’re awesome :)
on Wednesday, March 26th, 2008 at 11:24 pm:
you may be the “nice girl,” but you have heart. i loved reading this post… great blog! i usually don’t get into personal blogs but this is superb =D glad to see your relationship is thriving, they can be such a struggle…