A Tale of Becoming Into My Own: Chapter 2

So, picking up where I left off … and where I left of the last time I wrote was:

“That evening I saw another side of him – a more romantic, generous and pretty humble side. I knew right then that this was the man I’d want to date. He was the one I’d want to call my boyfriend. Little did I know, that I’d be sitting across the table from my future husband …”

Ah yes, I was describing how I saw a different side to my husband (now ex-husband) that night the two of us went out. A more human side of him. Although, he definitely possesses some otherworldly traits that make him more like a cyborg creature rather than a human. Oh god, now I sound like I’m gushing over him and you’re probably thinking that I’m not over him right? Wrong!!! I just really, genuinely feel this way about him. And I still love and respect him, but in a different way. You see, he was a major part of my life and has become like family to me. And just because we aren’t romantically together anymore, doesn’t mean that I respect him any less. I find nothing wrong with appreciating great attributes in a person whether or not I was involved with them in the past. Love sees no color, gender, or past. Love is equal.

Okay, now that I made you vomit a little, let’s pick up where I left off. Ah yes, as I was writing … “Little did I know, that I’d be sitting across the table from my future husband …”. Right, little did I know that I would also be sitting at the same table at the same restaurant discussing our separation 9 years later. But I’ll get to that later.

I remember I knew exactly what I wanted when he and I started dating. I told him I wasn’t looking to “fuck around”. I’ve had enough of that shit and I wanted to be in a monogamous relationship. I think I may have been fighting myself more than him because he didn’t have a problem with it and we became a couple shortly after our “one night stand” which I put in quotes because it turned into several … okay you get the point here.

The first couple of months that we were together were rocky. I had some serious self-worth issues and couldn’t get over the fact that he still spoke to his ex. I even threatened him with an ultimatum, throwing fits every time I’d come visit him at work (he was a bartender/server at a very popular bar in the west village) because I swore that he was “flirting” with his customers. I reeked of jealousy and insecurities. Even I became embarrassed of how easily I’d get triggered any time he would look at or speak to a woman. Or a man. Or both. Ugh, those times were hard man but were totally necessary to go through as I realized that I had some major trust (and self worth) issues I needed to work on.

Thank the lord one of our very good friends at the time had my best interest in mind and had convinced him to give me a chance, reassuring him that I’m not as insecure (or as bat-shit crazy) as I was coming off. Somehow, the combination of his patience and my superhero abilities to transform into a confident female overnight (you know I’m embellishing here but just go with it please) gave way to a very empowering and enlightening relationship. We were unstoppable. At one point, I even remember feeling like he was THE ONE. And this is why I thought this:

He believed in me. He SAW me. He was damn proud of me and encouraged me to speak up for what mattered to me.

He supported my ambitions. Nothing was unattainable. I grew up hearing “NO” from my parents often (due to financial strife and also being brought up in a Jewish-Russian household, everything was a NO) and he made me feel like I could have (and do) anything my heart desires. Negativity did not exist in his world. Everything was possible and attainable.

He showed me I had nothing to be afraid of. If I wanted to do something, I should do it. And if I fail, then at least I tried it.

He taught me how to talk to people; how to get what I want in a nice, respectable way.

And the list goes on.

After dating for about 6 months – my memory is murky, it may have been 8 months or even a year – we decided to move in together. It was a big deal for me and would be the first time I’d live on my own. Plus it seemed like really good timing because he and his roommate were starting to bicker and there were signs everywhere I tell you! The biggest sign of all was that I was ready. And with that, a chapter of my life had closed and a new one begun. My dream of moving out and living in Manhattan had finally came true and I found myself living with my boyfriend in Spanish Harlem.

To be continued ….

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