23 January 2013

so much less than I will

Dear people from my past,

I think, growing older, that one of the most rich and painful experiences is realizing, and re-realizing, just how clueless I was when I knew you.
I remember the bad flattop haircut I thought was cool or at least did not know wasn't. The leg warmers. I remember standing in a gay bar wondering if I was supposed to feel at home because I didn't. And wondering if because I didn't, if that meant something. I remember a million occasions where I was just doing my best, but my best was like driving with my eyes closed down a busy street, and I don't know just how many people I hit before I was done, how much chaos I caused, how much hurt, how much confusion.
I was often misleading and confusing because I did not know what I was doing, and I am sorry. I hated the way I felt so often, so defensive, so lost.

I had the unusual occasion to make amends with someone I hurt unintentionally but far more recently.

A spam bot stole my email, sent spam to my entire contact list, oy
folks from my very brief foray onto match.com included
anyone I had not deleted
which means most people I know or have known

and I realized suddenly with a horrible sinking feeling that I would be back on the radar for some folks who had tried to forget me
and oh yeah
I was right

but, it gave me the chance to say I'm sorry to someone I am truly sorry to. I meant it and mean it and it felt better having said it outright.

So this note, to all of you from my past, those I kissed and those I wanted to, those I confused, and those I ran toward or away or over... I am sorry from the person I was then to the person you were then, but I did not know what I was doing. I meant no harm. I was just trying to make my way, find my way, find myself.

20 years later, or 30, I find myself finding myself still. But now I know I will not find myself in someone else, or in a haircut or dive bar or team sport or bed
I am finding myself in the moments of meeting my own eyes in the mirror, and knowing that I know so much more now than I did,
and so much less than I will.


Queenie. . . said...

This post is so beautiful, so perfect. It is my truth, too.

It Is What It Is said...

Powerful words.

I wish I had the occasion to make up with a couple of friends that were casualties either b/c of my infertility or my becoming a mother. But, they have to want it, too, and they don't and I have found a way to be OK with that.

Growing up and into oneself is awesome.

Baby Smiling In Back Seat said...


I think you're someone who will never stop finding yourself. That is absolutely a compliment.

karen alonge said...

LOOOOOOVE this post. so timely for me. thank you!