Loving the idea of him

Coming to conclusions of harsh realities are so much more enlightening when one can figure it out for oneself, don't you agree?

In the midst of heartache, no one likes the improbable future of a relationship to be pointed out; not by the best friend, not by anyone. To adopt someone else's logic as to why ones relationship was doomed from the start, is to admit that one recklessly gets involved in the first place. The antipathy that is aroused by this honest but annoying consolation is too great to be taken into consideration at the time. These conversations with loved ones, or should we call them interventions, unusually do not go over well.

As much as this "say it in love" person will try to keep the topic to this specific relationship ending, it will inevitably get turned into a conversation as to why all of ones relationships never had potential. This could be the rule, not the exception. However, what a difference it can make when one can come up with concepts and reasons as to why one will be happier with out this desired (ended) relationship. That is where growth and healing starts. Coming out of denial and walking towards truth.

I have come to the conclusion that,with me, it always boils down to loving (or liking) the idea of him. At least this was the case with my last three favorite relationships. Common factors: Men of Latino decent, creative, funny, handsome, non- drinkers.....and the idea of being with them was so much more fun than the actual relationship.

The Poet, The Musician, and The Lawyer. My focus in each relationship was to catch him and keep him. I tried to get them to fall in love with me with out even knowing (or liking) them. With all three gentlemen, our life styles clashed and our focuses in life were on different planes. But what I did like? And why did I want them to work out soooooo badly?

Well, lets start with the poet. He was low key, relaxed. When we first met, I was so "awed by his depth", I nearly agreed with every opinion he had. I never dated a poet before. Spoken word was so sexy. I thought he would be good relationship material. I fantasized about him writing poetry about me, about us. Silly me. I assumed there would be an us. I had fun playing the naive young girl dating an complex man. I had not a clue to what a relationship should be..but I knew I wanted one with this interesting character. It was over nearly before it ever started. I was pretty shaken up.

Then there was the percussionist. Come on. He was in my faaaaaaavorite band. He liked me! We had a lot in common, such as our favorite cereals, candy bars, he wore Angel for men, I wore Angel for women. It was fate! I mean...we had so many things in common! So many thing that had no barring on the dynamic of a functioning relationship. I was going to be a wife of a rock star. That was determined by phone conversation number 3. Like Cinderella's glass slipper on the step sister, I was going to make this relationship work. Man, oh ,man...nothing like getting dumped Christmas eve.

In regards to the lawyer, it was a treat to date a respectful, intelligent man who had been to grad school. I finally found someone worthy of bragging to grandma and grandpa. He didn't impress me with his law degree. I felt like I owed my self a good hard working man. I figured I had plenty of time before he had to sit for some states' BAR. We could work out the kinks later. Well, look who decided to move out of state the morning after graduation. Don't worry, I did get a week's notice. Thus my recent inspiration for blogging.

What these relationships had in common was that I didn't look before I leaped. I liked how it sounded when I commenced to explain these their stats, so I was all in. I didn't use any logic, ask any questions in which the answers would make me want to discontinue the relationship, nor ask any question pertaining to a possible future. Yep, that darn F word again. The word women are afraid to use with men. But me? I didn't have time to think about any of these questions pertaining to the actual functionality of a relationship. I was too busy fantasizing about Quinceaneras, Latin traditions , celebrating holidays, baptisms...the whole nine. I can honestly say that I liked the idea of being with these gentlemen with how I imagined it would be. I cant say I was happy, but I can say that it is a beautiful thing to be able to admit this horrifying truth. Was I shallow? No. I wasn't aware of these underlying issues at the time. I did genuinely like these gentlemen. However, none of them were a full package ready to take on the responsibility of moi. My inability to see this was blinded by loving the idea of him. For one reason or another, these relationships ended. But I'm ok. Ive learned from my errors.

I am fortunate to have had my moment of clarity. This realization, in turn, has allowed me to keep my head raised high because I know that just as these gentlemen are "the one" for someone else....so am I.

"You have a pretty face but you need to lose some weight."

So here I am. Blogging. All five foot two , 200 + pounds of me. A hairdresser at a well established salon in what most people would call "a small town."

I remember when I started cosmetology school. I was 19 and ,after a vain attempt of attending a large university, I decided to follow my calling to be a cosmetologist. I stayed in that college town and by that next fall:a cosmetology student. Right from the start I could call out what cliques were to form. That beauty school on the west side of Michigan enrolled every stereotype one could imagine: prom queens, strippers, ex-sorority girls, single moms, stay at home moms with empty nest syndrome, and my favorite- the girly girls who one would have never guessed hunted, fished, drove tractors, processed salami at the meat market- and were still on homecoming court.

Where did I fit in? Two words: I didn't. This was a difficult concept for me. I had made some good friends through out my young life and felt as though I made new friends every every corner I turned. My size two college roommate, who was also my high school best friend, remained my best friend through "thick and thin" (and hard times too!) I was raised in a nice town on the east side of the state and,since moving away,had recently acquired a princess to pauper mentality. "College living" was a rough!

I couldn't help but feel as though everyone in beauty school judged me by my weight. That had been my college experience, especially with college boys. A girl could have a "3" for a face, but as long as her body was a "10", the guys were all about it. Twisted way of putting it, but true. In just one year away at college, I allowed the fact that boys weren't knocking down my door to date me strip away my self esteem. I didn't let it show though, I just put on more make-up and took more time doing my hair. This was where I believe my passion for the beauty industry came in. I thought that if I could just make my face look prettier and style my hair real nice that, despite being overweight, I could be found attractive. In my head fat=ugly. Boys wanted skinny girls , and skinny girls wanted skinny friends.

As it turns out I, a petite XL, was called to the beauty industry!! I had talent! I had personality! I had a drive and a burning desire to be a part of this superficial industry, one that I thought was based on creating beauty.

But that isn't the case anymore. I know now that beauty can not be created. Beauty is brought out of someone. I work hard on esteeming my clients and teaching others to love who they are, for all they are.

I am a size 18 in an industry where it is unacceptable to be over a size 12. Although I am actively seeking help for a healthy lifestyle, I will not act like it is a compliment for someone to tell me "You have a pretty face, but you need to lose some weight".