Are you going to blog about this?

F7DD0AC4-3725-48F2-B558-6D96A70C915A.pngApparently all you need to be happy is open arms and balloons.  Lots of balloons.  That must be what I’m doing wrong!

I had a wonderful holiday with elskan mín and my family.  It was really lovely.  I was going to write all about it.  But now it seems like a distant memory.  I’m not surrounded by balloons.  I’m not feeling like opening my arms. I feel like I’ve fucked it all up because I suck at being happy.

I was asked, accusingly, if I was going “to blog about this” not long ago.  And no, I’m not blogging about that. Or that.  But I need to write about this because now I’ve been plunged back into my native state of fear & anxiety and blogging helps.   Who knows why.  Maybe I should try balloons.  But I was also told, in a heated moment, that I’m “never happy!”   And this made me want to run. Hide. Die or dissolve into the ether.

People Being happy isn’t something I grew up around. My parents were both deeply unhappy people. I was a very happy child but being sexually assaulted as a toddler at daycare and then feeling abandoned by my father during my parents divorce a few years later put a huge damper on my happiness. I was depressed as a young girl.  I pulled my hair out in handfuls when my dad moved out. I know anxiety well. Fear. Depression.  Happiness seemed like a fleeting trick or something reserved for better people.

Being told that my deepest fear is actually true I really flipped out.  I started to just bolt but then stayed to try and talk but that didn’t go well.  When I get emotionally stabbed in my most vulnerable wound I am not good at staying calm or rational.  I probably don’t hear what the person is saying after clearly.  All I know is I’ve failed at just being a good, happy person and I’m humiliated that I ever thought I’d succeed.

Falling in love is amazing.  And I’m so in love. I want to make a life with this man. Which feels amazing. And also terrifying. It’s so much more comfortable to stay alone and accept that being kind of ok but very lonely is the best I should dare to hope for. But I’ve gotten out on this limb of love and I want it to work.  I want to be happy.  But I think I’m really shit  at it. I’m scared of being to happy. Bad things can happen when your guard is down. But not much can happen when your guard is up,especially when it’s made of 12 inch thick bulletproof glass and you’ve become so lonely you’re actually invisible.

There was a fight.  We will talk.  I hope things can be worked out. I hope my fucking hot flashes cease. I hope for things I dare not hope for and hate myself for it when it all goes wrong. But I want to learn to be happy and not self destruct because it’s more familiar. I want a life with love and connection and I hope I can build that, with elskan mín.  I hope I haven’t ruined things already. I wish I’d gotten better at relationships by my age but all I can do is try to be better now.

I’m totally  failing as a blogger because I was focusing on being in love. And when it goes wrong I turn here to try and get clarity, or just cope. But  I want to have both!  Certainly if it comes to it I’ll choose love for sure. I mean, I know my 44 followers will be fine without my intermittent rambling. And I’d be fine if things fall apart in this relationship but I don’t want to be fine, I want to be happy, as scared as I am.

But maybe I’ll get to have it all?

the first “fight”

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(if only our first “fight” was in Iceland driving the ring road like this photo appears to be, so romantic!)

 

We had our first fight. An argument, sort of. Really a misunderstanding, miscommunication, a discussion that got emotional and ultimately ended in a wonderful talk that clarified some real key issues and brought us closer. But in the middle of it I was terrified. That I would ruin everything.

I don’t like to fight. Or argue. It’s not fun. I love to discuss, and I’ve found a man who likes me having “strong opinions” and we can disagree on things and there is no problem. This is wonderful.

But while my emotions were getting the best of me I was feeling total despair. I want him to understand me, to see me as I am. When I realized that he had gotten this skewed image and I was trying to make things clear I was so scared that I’d fail  or maybe he’d decide I wasn’t “good enough” for him.  But then we talked it out and it was so good to resolve things through the tears and confusion.

I love him SO much. And this gratitude feels so good, almost as good as being in his arms.

We are going to spend Thanksgiving with my family.  I’ve never taken a boyfriend to a family function, ever. I wish he could meet my mom so much. I think she’d approve. I’m looking forward to this milestone, and all the ones to follow.

Spinsterhag is turning into a grownup!

 

love is everything

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Love transforms everything it touches. I was convinced I’d never find love and have to spend my life alone, maybe someday being able to get a cat was the best I dared hope for.

Then I met elskan min. But at first I wasn’t sure… I was involved with both Ben & Ed, and I insanely thought that maybe it would go somewhere, with Ed at least. And I did like him, I liked them both. But neither were emotionally available in any real way. And neither were the perfect man for me either.

My dearest elskan min is so perfect for me. If only he was rich it’d be a fucking fairytale! But I love him and I think we’ll be able to make a lovely life together despite our collective economic struggles. We are a perfect pair, he makes me feel so comfortable and he’s so sweet and funny we are always laughing, kissing, cuddling, laughing some more.

I am so grateful that we found each other. Tinder is a miracle. It brought us together. He was wonderful to wait while I figured out that he was the one for me. He is so sweet to me I thank my lucky swipe every day.

If you’re struggling to find love, don’t give up. I found it, at the ripe old age of 45, grey hair, peri-menopause and all. If it can happen to me it can happen to anyone.

Don’t stop swiping. Or hoping. Love is on its way. In the meantime love yourself. And pet all the cats you can!

Bananas

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I am recently obsessed with bananas.  Not eating them. More with wearing them, & finding banana everything.  I hunted down banana print fabric and made my dream “Pilates pants” finally.  I’ve made a small collection of banana print clothes, photos will follow as soon as elskan mín has time off to help me document my emerging clothing line.

And I’m completely bananas for elskan mín.  We are a perfect pair. I am grateful every day that we found each other. He makes me so happy.  He is helping me remember that I’m funny and fun. He loves me, even things I thought no one would love. He does hate it when I interrupt him, a terrible habit I have that I’m trying to stop doing and since I really hate making him upset I am trying to remember to listen better even when I’m so excited to blurt things out. He makes me like myself a lot and also want to be better at the same time.  It’s everything I was wishing for.

Even if it seems impossible keep wishing. Keep dreaming. Be patient or impatient but don’t give up all hope. Keep a shred. Love can happen.

Even to a spinsterhag!

ode to Portland

I’ve been in Portland for a little over 4 years now, in my little dollhouse apt for 4 years as of October first. It has taken me a looooooong time to say

I like you, Portland.

This fall is just gorgeous. No rain, beautiful skies and temperatures. I’m also in love and life is going pretty well so that makes it easy to see the sunny side of life. But I am really liking Portland, finally!

It’s not love, but who knows? Maybe someday I’ll swoon over this town, weirder shit has happened. Like finding true love on tinder.

I love the clouds in Portland. I love all the trees, and the light on the leaves. Fall colors are pretty stunning here, if not like glorious Connecticu(n)t. I love the cats, you’ll see cats walking through many neighborhoods. I love the little metal rings that harken back to when people parked horses instead of cars. And the roses. I love the roses. It is known as the city of roses and they are everywhere. I smell them often.

I am excited about my life here, finally. I feel hope for the present and the future, which for me is a rare state, optimism doesn’t come naturally. I’m so grateful that I’ve found home, work, love and can feel some tender roots starting to sink down in this place.

And only 2 months until Iceland!!!!!

mad for plaid

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Lauren, & her awesome pin covered hat, comme de garçon cape at the KronKron store & finally my comme de garçon dress also from KronKron.

 

I’m crazy for plaid right now. My new dress is like a school uniform origami mash up, I absolutely adore it.  I’m collecting plaid shirts to make some crazy dresses & skirts. My mom’s 1960’s Singer sewing machine is churning out wonderful and weird reconstructions.  I’m so happy to be creating clothing again.

Expect to see more fashion here, both my own and people I find in Portland who agree to be spinsterhag stars!  And t-shirts are in the works!

As fall approaches I’m looking forward to really being productive, sewing up cashmere while soup simmers on the stove. Making hats while elskan mín makes fresh raviolis. But it’s still sunny and 70 degrees. Ok. Fine.  But winter is coming.

I can’t wait.

StopShoptober

E8F01CCB-E684-4158-BBB5-8A3532C0D72C7512CA66-7ED3-4701-849C-3BDD46341F91I’m admitting I have a problem. A shopping problem.  So I’m doing something about it. StopShoptober. No shopping for the month.  Maybe November & December  too, exempting Christmas gifts.

I’m going to be shopping from my closet.  I have clothes.  Many many clothes.  Fabulous clothes. I’ve thrifted about 75% of my wardrobe.  I’m finally in the mood to dress well. But I don’t need to buy another garment to do so.

I’m not sure how this blog will continue now that I’m done dating and in a relationship now.  So I’ll be taking a turn into style blogging. I’m going to challenge myself to stop shopping and start creating and enjoying the clothes I have. I’ll be sharing outfits as well as garments I’ve made. I working on a dress made from an old unionsuit long underwear, complete with buttflap!  If you want more tragically hilarious dating disasters I can’t help.  But if you want to see my sartorial explorations keep tuning in.