I got up in the middle of a meditation session to share these thoughts. And by “the middle” I mean, basically the beginning, haha. As you might guess, my meditation session wasn’t working out too well for me this morning. Sometimes I’m on point… and sometimes… well, my analytical brain doesn’t stop and I end up writing out my life story through my breaths.
And while my meditation didn’t go as planned, I do feel as if I’ve had some sort of small revelation in my thought overview this morning. (An unplanned win). And I guess, while I don’t have a complete thought or storyline/blog post yet, I did want to touch on these ideas floating in my head.
I didn’t sleep fully last night. The full moon is tomorrow evening and that’s typically how this sleep cycle falls for me. Three nights before the full moon and things just get weird for me. I’m sensitive. An empath type. You guys know that. I feel all the things. I mean, you could too– if you focus and work on it. But I’m not sure if that’s your end game? It’s a very different and wild life when you tune in. (I know because I live it). But anyway, I didn’t sleep. Well, to be specific, I actually did sleep– quite a bit, but it was choppy and I woke up over a dozen times but falling asleep within a minute or two each time.
And what happens when you wake up through all cycles of the night? Well, for a good chunk of us the dream recognition that happens is prominent. Looking back I’m sad I didn’t work on the lucid aspect of my dreams. But that’s fine, there’s always tonight… and every single night for the rest of my life.
My early morning dream was emotional. And mostly revolving around Jesse Metcalfe. Don’t know who he is? It’s fine. I assume many don’t. I, myself am terrible at all pop culture names and had to give him a google this morning. I saw his face– a younger version of his face in my dreams and after a bit of research and I was able to put a name to his face. How? Well, I remembered his face from a 2009 soap opera that came out: Passions. Do you guys remember it? If not, you’re not at a loss. And I have no shame in admitting I came home from school every day for years to watch a really junky soap. And I’m not sure if it’s good or not, but it’s obviously made some sort of impact in me since here I am, 20 years later, with Jesse Metcalf making an appearance in my life’s dreams.
But I’m an over dreamer. Do you guys know that? You do. (I think you do).
Well last night, a young Jesse Metcalfe swept me off my feet. And then he broke my heart too. He wore a white and red striped baseball uniform, you know one of the classic vintage Babe Ruth looking ones. But better than his outfit, he had decided he was in love with me. And he wanted to make it known. I didn’t believe it. I have a hard time trusting love sometimes (no one is surprised). And out of nowhere one of those 10 Things I Hate About You sports event singing moments happened in my dream. Do you know the one? The man in love goes out to a sports complex in song and dance. This one was choreographed with the whole team. And I shyly stood there, taking it all in. Trying to understand how this guy who seemed to hardly know me loved me so much.
If you didn’t know, (this part of me isn’t well known) the fairy-tale wishy-washy side of me dreams of the day when I’ll be romantically swept off my feet in choreographed song in dance. I’m talking a full-on Bollywood moment. Alex knows this part of me. But he often asks me if I’d really actually enjoy this sort of event. And he’s not wrong to question it. I can’t stand when more than one person puts their focus on me at one time. But for love? I think I’d be in. I mean, I totally cringed and wanted to run when Alex had a mariachi band sing to me on our 5th anniversary— so he’s wary of this whole large scale show-of-love performance. But I think I would feel differently if it were him. I think I’d squirm that uncomfortable awkward squirm, but I’d love it so much. Because I don’t want a band of strangers proclaiming their love to me– I want the grandest gesture– an over the top love to proclaim their love to me… and apparently Jesse Metcalf too.
And Jesse Metcalf did last night. And he one-upped Alex too. Because unlike my mariachi experience, I was told to prepare and look presentable before the event took place and everyone put their eyes on me, haha. Jesse wasn’t a celebrity in my dream. Just the face of a person that could sweep me off my feet. I don’t remember the song or the dance. But I remember how I felt, being pushed forward in a crowd of people to watch this performance just for me. And it was awkward and hard for my introvert self, but it was really nice too. He ran over, gave me a kiss, and it was grand. Unfortunately, there is a lot of grey space in my memory after this. I’m not sure what happened immediately from there.
But shortly after the big performance, the proclamation of love, and the grey space, I found out he wasn’t really in love at all. Or maybe he was, but he was too much of a romantic and in love with me and everybody else all at once. His grand gesture wasn’t exclusive to me and my love, but a variety of performances he could do for any set of people he felt something for at the moment. I had found myself on a train staring at a pile of his things sitting on a chair. And in that pile, there was a collection of phones, one for each person he loved. I was one of many. And I was sad.
I walked to another train car and I found some familiar faces, everyone eating lunch. I found my friend Christine and she handed me a baguette. And knowing full and well that I was celiac, I bit right into the bread and ate a good quarter of it, before looking down to question my own actions. But soon the regret came. Not guilt, but this overwhelming feeling of, *I’m really going to pay for this choice* The rest of the dream, or at least the part I remember from it was mostly an erratic set of fearful emotions of the physical suffering that would follow due to my emotional, self-betrayal misstep.
And then at some point, I woke up. And when I did, the focus wasn’t on the bread or the heartbreak but mostly the enjoyment of the grand gesture and me trying to put a name to the face in my dream. I googled soap operas. I found the name of the one I used to watch. I scrolled through the cast list– and there he was: Jesse Metcalfe. I quickly thought, “Oh man, I apparently have a type” and then ran to Alex to confirm with him that I still have those Bollywood hopes and dreams of a magical love induced performance to take place at some point in time before I die… and that I’d be “fine” if it never happens, but obviously it would be preferred.
Shortly after this conversation, Alex headed for work and I headed back to our bedroom to try to get in some proper meditation since my google search earlier had pulled me away from the morning one I typically do. And while I obviously failed at this second meditation (because I’m here now instead), the realizations that came to me were obviously important enough for me to stop, analytically think them through, and then share them here.
These are the things I learned and realized this morning:
I have a type.
For most of my life, I never thought I did– outward appearance has never been huge in my world of dating. But over time I’ve come to realize that dark eyes, dark hair, and facial hair is preferred in my life.
Sometimes bad things happen after really good things but…
the good moments can feel so wonderfully overwhelming that it’s better to focus on those anyway. When I woke up I focused on the amazing dance and song sequence, not all the other icky things. And I think that’s a pretty important thing to note for myself since so many of us (myself included) tend to go negative before positive.
Even simple actions can be self-destructive.
For months now, on and off, I’ve struggled to be all raw. I would like to be, but my habits and justifications get in the way. Like, I still eat REALLY well– way better than most (in my not so humble but honest opinion anyway), so I tell myself it doesn’t matter that much. But right now, in my life, it kind of sort of really does matter. Because no matter how well I may eat compared to someone else, I’m not eating best for how I hope to heal right now. While I may not be as extreme as grabbing something I’m really allergic to and eating it, I still need to be more conscious and mindful of the things I reach for.
Another thing I do, which I think I’m learning we all do, is I picture those self-destructive habits taking place. It’s like that driving off the highway image. Do you guys have that? I always thought I was super weird for picturing it and joked about it one day with family– and was told thats completely normal. I do that with bread. I visualize myself grabbing the bread, cookie, cracker, whatever and shoving it in my mouth. I did it two days ago– the visualizing, not the eating of it. While the idea isn’t as bad as the actual action, both things reflect self-destructive thinking and so I need to stop.
Justifying isn’t the answer.
I can’t/shouldn’t keep doing the things that aren’t beneficial and feeling feelings after. It’s human, yeah. But that’s part of my problem. I give myself too much freedom to be human sometimes. And being human is awesome, I’m grateful for all the imperfections, but it’s not an excuse for not making the best intentional choices for myself that I can make. I can’t be careless and thoughtless and feel stress after. Doing this doesn’t benefit me. I should (and can) just take care of myself first and avoid all the other crap. I want to be mindful of all the things, not just some.
My fears take over and I’m still learning how to handle so many of them.
This bread fear is real. Like, I’m never scared of indulging in something because it’s not ideal for me or a natural food– we totally go for ice cream more than one would think. But I do have real, crippling food fears. Well, I guess food fear singular, not food-fears plural– I’m so crazy scared of gluten. I am aware that this is a logical and rational fear because eating it will live my crippling sick for weeks at a time. But I’m just not sure how to handle this fear sometimes. It’s not something I can just “get over” because the reality of me getting gluten-ed out in public (it’s even happened multiple times at home when I was first figuring it all out) is super real. I’m trying to balance it– We eat out less, if we can ever find them, we end up at GF restaurants, and I no longer feel guilty about voicing my needs or allergies in a restaurant. I tell share what my allergies are and if they cant accommodate, fine. But at least I voiced what I needed.
But even if it’s not something I think about on the day to day (it’s usually not), the subconscious part of me worries too much for my own good. I used to have dreams/nightmares of Alex cheating on me. Now I have dreams of him accidentally giving me gluten. I guess this is one of those situations where I can give myself grace and tell myself I’m human… because I am. But I still need to work on the subconscious fears that are looming. Otherwise, I’m always going to have dreams of bread and the injuries it causes me. Though the bread dreams are obviously better than the many other possibilities.
Dreams are as fun as they are useful.
The same way that Jesse Metcalfe will never serenade me in a baseball field, Alex will never intentionally gluten me. I mean, he has unintentionally glutened me, so I do see where this fear stems from a bit. But I’ve also had dreams of friends who have never once cooked for me giving me gluten. While dreams can be a fairytale land or a complete nightmare, there is some truth that lies in the subconscious. I hated sleep for a long time, and sometimes I still struggle with it, but now I try to use that time to navigate through my strengths, weaknesses and have fun in between. I really, really enjoy the good moments of my dreams. I get to live an entirely other life, side by side with the real one I have. Real-life and dream life are worth living.
I don’t think I’ll ever embarrass.
I’ve shared so many thoughts publically– so many private and personal ideas and moments… and the truth is that I have yet to find one thing that I’m embarrassed to admit. From breakups to butt burns, to Jesse Metcalfe serenades, being imperfectly human is amazingly fun and I highly recommend letting go of the personal self-doubts or fears you have in yourself— because you’re human too. It’s better to accept that now than when it’s too late.
Even 20 years after discovering Jesse’s face for the very first time, I still find him to be ridiculously attractive, but…
today after some careful comparisons, I learned that I find Alex to be much more attractive than a famous Jesse Metcalfe– and I get to see his face every day, no dreams required.
I’m improving in life.
Gosh, I’ve lived a destructive life. I feel like I was on a tornado path most of my life. I just did not give a crap. Marlowe obviously helped me wake up and start caring about working on myself. I can’t have a great kid if I’m not a great mom/human. But even without the focus of motherhood, I’ve taken great strides in being mindful of caring for myself. I realized while I still have some work to do, most of my past destructive habits are gone. I don’t over-drink (or drink at all), I don’t carelessly involve myself in drugs (prescription or non-prescription), I don’t work myself to the ground, I give myself permission to sleep when I’m tired, rest when I need it, and I’m aware of the things I put in or do to my body that can hurt me or help me… for the most part anyway. I’m not perfect, but I’m improving in life… and thats what counts.
My serenade hopes and dreams are still real and relevant. So like, if any of our local friends want to help Alex coordinate my dream come true– well, that’d be great. Or if anyone else would like to try to sweep me off my feet (Hey Jesse Metcalfe, if you’re reading this), well that would also be amazingly great. Thanks.
edited to add: its the next day and my dreams were crazy again. Alex confirmed with me that I was in full-on nightmare mode (lots of ghosts) last night. But the good news is I was able to go up to a light-switch (A physical dream one) and realize I was dreaming to turn my dream around. The ghosts went away. Hooray!
photos of me and Alex by Celia D. Luna.