My Love for Florida

While thinking about my relationship with New York, I couldn't help but think about Florida- my first true love.

Florida for me is much different than my relationship with New York. I still had a defining moment in my childhood, when I was nine, where I vividly remember thinking, "I'm going to live here someday." So in that way, it's the same.

When I moved to Florida at age 19 (barely), I had only visited twice. Both of which I loved and felt a strong pull to live there. Within a very short amount of time after moving there, it really touched my soul. It just spoke to me. Am I crazy? Does this happen to other people? Well, regardless of whether this happens to other people or not, I know what happened to me. The best way to describe it is that I just found myself there. Almost as if I had been living my whole life waiting to find it. It's where I truly grew up on my own and became my own person, and the best version of myself I could be.

I know for many people they say their missions were like this. I'm sure for some it happens regardless of location. Even though I grew up on the other side of the country, this feels more like "home" than any other place I've ever been. Still, Florida is it for me. It's not only what I love, but who I am.

I Heart NY

After spending the summer out east with one of my favorite cities, I can't help but think how our relationship has grown over the years. Some places are just places, but I truly believe that others grow with the same kind of dynamics as human relationships. Perhaps they are just internal realizations as we change through the years. Whatever the reason, New York is one of those places for me.

This one started early. I was just a young child when I remember asking my mom, "Why is everything in New York?" This was in the days before the internet and any contest you entered or correspondence was through snail mail to New York. She told me it was because a lot of companies were based there, and while I didn't understand quite what that meant at the time, I knew I wanted to go there.

When I was nine my parents took a trip to New York. It wasn't their first but they didn't make a habit of going. I was thrilled for them and when they returned we asked anxiously what it was like to which they responded, "Eh. If I get back there in the next ten years that might be too soon." This was in 1991 during the pre-Juliani, Ninja Turtles in the subway, violence and prostitute laden years.

However, they did return and only seven years later with the whole family. I was sixteen at the time and while I was still burdened by high school life, I knew that in a few short years the world was mine. My parents had instilled a proper fear in us before we arrived so as not to lose any of us and be on our guard. We were driving into the city from upstate New York and as we pulled into Manhattan I was wide eyed and amazed. It was just like the movies! It was honestly like nothing I had ever seen before in my life. Growing up in Salt Lake, Vegas and Los Angeles were the biggest cities I had really ever seen. The scale of it was so much bigger than I had imagined and I just wanted to take it all in. We checked into the Marriott Marquis in Times Square and I remember thinking how small our rooms were- in such a big city! Makes perfect sense to me now. We walked out late that night to have dinner, all of us cautiously holding hands and being nervous about the late night company on the streets.

The next morning everything changed. By the time we were having lunch we had stopped holding hands and started getting a little more comfortable. We did the sight seeing thing and had the greatest time ever. My sister and I still talk about that trip and all the shenanigans that took place. I remember the first time I said to myself, "I want to live here. I have to live here!"

I told everyone I knew that New York was the greatest place ever. The city had been very much cleaned up and was quite charming. The summer after high school my dad had work there and took me with him. We had a great time staying at the World Trade Center Marriott (lost only a short year later), and seeing the sights. On the days he had to work he'd say "Have fun, go find something interesting to do." By myself!? Yes, by myself, and that's the way I've enjoyed it most ever since. I didn't dare ride the subway by myself but I did a lot of walking and I loved exploring.

A year and a half later I was well into college. I had friends living there and planned to go whenever possible. I got comfortable using the subway on my own and got to experience New York in ways that I only hope to be able to again someday. While living in Florida I took advantage of the post September 11 cheap flights and went on numerous occasions.

The real kicker was my 21st birthday trip. With my two best friends in tow, and a handful of others meeting us there, I had the best vacation and birthday! It was everything I dreamed it would be, not to mention it was Christmas time which made it that much more magical. Up to that point it felt like New York and I had been dating and suddenly I was in love.

The first time I actually moved there I was approaching 22 and became a nanny for a family whom I love and adore. Every weekend was spent in the city (again Christmas time). I saw the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and spent New Year's Eve in Times Square. I was kind of a super tourist.

By the time I was married, we set out for our first summer in New York. We lived in Queens and my New York world expanded greatly. My husband's father was concerned that we'd be living there only to find out his last time visiting was in 1982. That was truly the summer I became more of a local than a tourist.

Since then, we have lived in or around the city a handful of times. I am always thrilled when it works out for us to go there. I had a friend living there not long ago and heard someone say to her, "I know it seems glamourous but I'm sure sometimes it's a real bear." So true. That is New York in summary.

There was a time (and still are times) when I could see myself living in an apartment and enjoying the amenities of the city forever. I wouldn't even have minded raising kids there. The city has so much to offer and I truly think that America only has three "cities": New York, Chicago, and San Francisco. Of which New York is clearly the superior. I remember my dad saying to me on our trip so many years ago, "I can understand how people crave the city living, but I surely can't relate to it." All I could think was a heartfelt, love struck, "I can."

I really feel like my love for the city peaked about four years ago. I just felt like we were marching to the same beat, almost like we belonged to each other, a perfect match. Now, I feel like it's a more comfortable marriage, we have our moments, but love each other just the same. Every time we move or say goodbye, my heart breaks just a little. It's like saying goodbye to a cherished friend that you always miss.

I have so many great, great memories that have taken place there. Many important life moments have occurred, friendships have been made, and experiences have been had. I look back and think that New York is such a big part of me and always will be. I'm so grateful for that and feel sad for those who have missed out.

I have my days where New York pisses me off. It stinks, it's crowded, it's cold, it's hot, it's hard to find a bathroom, the trash is lying on the street, etc. But the charm of the city will always surpass it's shortcomings. I hate to think that I might see the day where the city turns once again to it's crime infested past or will no longer be such an influential part of my life. Until then, I will soak in as much as I possibly can.

Goodbye Summer

Summer is essentially over for us. Back to the grind and the boredom. Fortunately for any straggling readers out there, boredom turns me to blogging.

The Evolution of Life

Sometimes I feel like my life falls right in between here....

and here....

Lately even more so.

Being in a married, but childless couple, is typically a very short stepping stone for a lot of people. As the years go on, for us it becomes our normal- our every day. And don't get me wrong, I have no problem with that at all. I quite like where we are. I think too many people see life as a checklist, and after getting married, having children is the next thing on the list. I say, love where you are. Stay and enjoy it for a little while.

So I guess the problem lies mostly in socializing. At my age, most my friends fall into one of the above categories. This allows me to find myself in varying degrees of life phases, but all in the present.

For example:

A few short weeks ago I was visiting a friend with three kids. I love the kids. I love the cute things they say and do. I love the simplicity of living out your day.

BUT....

I hate going to the park and sitting mindlessly while watching them play. I hate fighting them at meals. I hate the terrible cartoons they watch on tv and kid movies they see in the theatre. I hate the bickering. I hate the messes. I hate the tantrums and the split second change of emotions. I hate the errands. I hate having to get a babysitter in order to maintain any sense of adult sanity.

THEN:

A few less weeks ago I was visiting my still single college roommate. I love her. I love all the fun things we do together. I love catching up. I love feeling careless. I love reminiscing. I love meeting new people and seeing old friends.

BUT....

I hate the sense of meaningless. I hate the way she seems to try and impress strangers. I hate that she is always on some type of social media. I hate that she is not plugged into any kind of family life. I hate that taking care of yourself converts so easily into selfishness. I hate that marriage and sacrifice and giving so much to someone else seems lost on her at times. I hate that the transition into adulthood has been altered by circumstances.

This isn't just an extreme example of either end that happened to take place recently. This is my every day life. Last night I had dinner with my cousin's family of five and later this week I will have dinner with my single cousin. This literally happens nearly every week.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't somewhat enjoy it. I like experiencing a little bit of life this way and life that way. The hard part is that they both frustrate me! I come home exhausted from the kids or feeling empty from the lack of personal relationships and meaning.

I can't argue the point that I'm in a very selfish marriage. We both want what we want. BUT, it is still a marriage and we both make huge sacrifices for each other. Nothing we do is strictly about ourselves. I miss being single, but would I want to be single now? No way. I look forward to being a mom someday but am I sad I'm not one now? No way.

I've sort of had this epiphany about the evolution of life and where I am finding myself "10 years later"... or where I'll find myself 10 years from now. I am finding that you can look back, but you can only move forward. I cherished the time I had to be on my own out in the world. I would have even gladly welcomed a few more years of it. I think as time passes I realize more and more how crucial that time was to the person I am now. I think I will miss that time more than any other phase of life when all is said and done and it's a shame that those years passed so quickly. Still... the twenties were such a decade of discovery. I was a little bit nervous about them when they began and as I approach my thirties I have never in my life been so excited for the next 10 years. I think they are going to be amazing... but I'm not quite there yet.

And I'm happy about that too.

Secret Ambitions

Not too long ago I went to a local theatre production with my mom. Her teenage neighbor had a part in it so we went to support her. As I watched her up on that stage acting, I so deeply admired her bravery.

I've never been one for the spotlight. I am fearfully shy for the most part and I hate feeling exposed and vulnerable. Even so, every girl dreams about what it would feel like. I never did do any kind of theatre. I didn't see it as an acceptable activity for fitting in with the "cool" kids. Being shy, fitting in is your best option- people won't pay extra attention to you, but they will accept you.

Now that I'm an adult I still have shy tendencies. I still don't want all kinds of attention, but there's not a lot of pressure to "fit in" anywhere. There are truly as many varying degrees of adult personalities as there are snowflakes, as they say. (Not to mention, if you're truly in a good marriage you should receive most of your acceptance in the world from it and nothing else matters.) I've thought about this a lot since high school. I wish I knew then what I know now and I truly wish I hadn't been worried about the things that were constantly on my mind back then. Because the truth? They don't matter one bit now.

It got me thinking about all the things I would've/should've/could've done, had I ignored my inhibitions. I think I'd have mustered up the courage to at least try things and maybe find something I truly enjoyed. It makes me admire, all the more, kids today who do the things they love because they love it. I have a brother who wouldn't know how to live any differently and I I admire him so much for it.

Repetitive Arguments

Why is it that every time the Mr. and I have a significant disagreement, I feel like we've had it before? It's like there's no end to the war, just battle after battle after battle.

Like today when the same old issue arrived on the doorstep, he immediately says, "yeah, well... I'm sorry." YOU'RE SORRY?! No, I don't accept. Fix. It. Don't just apologize as if to say, "well, that's who I am and you're just gonna have to live with it." I still can't believe that's the first thing he said- the white flag immediately went up, like he knows I'm gonna be pissed, but why go there when he can just relent. Well, no thanks. I want a resolution, not an apology!

It makes me feel like all the hundreds of times we tried to resolve this in the past, nothing ever stuck. On this particular matter, the last confrontation was pretty big. I felt like I had to cave a little and he was humbled a little and the fact that the same subject is now back on the table is him saying, "actually, I didn't change at all. I just told you what you wanted to hear." Which actually isn't even true because it wasn't what I wanted to hear and I wasn't happy with it then.

The more my blood boils the more I realize that we are always fighting about the same damn things. In general, I think we get along great. I know for a fact that he gives in more than I do, but sometimes when a person is right there's no changing it (and I can promise you that I am right on this one). Even if I weren't right, doesn't he understand that it's important to me? It matters to me?

Journaling

Lately I've had a lot of things on my mind. Unfortunately, I am not ready to release most of them to the cyber world, not to mention to about three of the people whom I know read this blog.

Growing up I was a very dedicated journal writer. Looking back now I realize that was both a curse and a blessing. There's a lot I learn form my past self (sometimes I think maybe I'm the opposite of progressing...) and sometimes the stuff is just lame, embarrassing, or totally worthless and makes me seem like a freak for even writing any of it down. But the one thing I love most about it is that it's the most raw version of me, in any given moment. This blog, as opposed to "look at how picturesque my life is" family blog, is kind of like that. And there are a lot of reasons I don't mix the two.

You see, I'm a very emotional journal writer. In fact, the Mr. always teases that I only write in my journal when I'm mad at him, and if he catches me doing it, will shower me with apologies for whatever he did wrong. It's only half true though. The problem about being an emotional writer is that not every emotion is positive (which can be scary if you're equipped with the weapon of words) and when you are that emotional it definitely can stand in the way of logic.

In this day and age, I find it hard to pick up a pen and actually write on blank pages. My hand starts cramping after less then three minutes and it makes me wonder if my children will ever physically "write" things in today's expanding technological world. Not to mention, now that I have a blog (or two or three) the journal thing has kind of fallen by the wayside. The great thing about this is that I am still good at documenting events and such and it makes it so easy, but the drawback is that while you get a glimpse of my life, there is really no platform for me to expose my soul; the good, the bad, and the downright ugly. And here's the thing- aren't we all this way? Isn't there still so much we conceal and hide because we don't want to voluntarily be so vulnerable?

I think of all the times I've spent re-reading old journals- crying, laughing, rolling my eyes- sometimes the way I feel about something in the present comes to a new light when I read about the way I used to feel about something. It's almost as if I understand myself a little bit more. But looking back on my blog books, I don't get that kind of depth, everything is just pretty platonic. Sure, there are things that bring back good memories and occasionally sad ones, but there's no real hearty substance to them.

But you can't just go writing whatever you want and let the world read it! At least... I can't. Perhaps it's my own self awareness, or my lack of confidence, or fear of judgement. Whatever it is, it holds me back.

So, that's the reason I can't won't write about all the things that have been on my mind lately. But I do know this- they are shaping who I am. You know all that hype about thoughts becoming your character? It's occurring to me as we speak. Not all my thoughts are positive or maybe they are just a bit cynical, and some of them are very positive and uplifting, but they are definitely changing the way I see the world, the way I see myself in this world, and the way I see others in the world.