The thing about feminism is is that it helped create the teenage me. That and LL Cool J. Today I need to focus on the feminism. With specific relevancy to my dear friend, Ramona.
In my life, there has only been one healthy and adult relationship. This would be Mr. Hall. Before this, it was a quagmire of mislaid idealism and selfish tendencies. I didn't know how to give or receive the love I felt. Plus, I didn't like people in general.
Ironic considering my profession, no? Perhaps that is the root cause of all this. I give eight hours a day. But that's not true. I have balance with my work and life.
Going through school, I found a lot of heady people. All right brained. All gerbil type A energy. I was more middle of the road with a wicked artsy streak. Alas, I studied in the field of medicine. There was no kin to be found. Then came Ramona.
I heard Ramona sing, and I heard everything.
(shout out to Frank Black, not the actor, the Pixie singer, see below)
At that point, I had married the most awesome man walking. I thrive in this love humidor of marriage. My hand then went out for another type of relationship. That being a second best friend.
Pursuing her was tough. We share a lot of the same tendencies. Worry being the most prevalent. Being socially isolative is another. But I pursued her with a singular, alpha female purpose. She would be my friend. I knew it like I knew about Mr. Hall.
It took some time, some awkward fits and starts, but we are very good friends as of today. The thing is, I am not sure what happens now. And what I want to do about it. I will be moving soon. This town where I live, will, most likely, never see me again. She has deeper roots than I.
That's not the big problem though. The big problem is fundamental differences. I am growing in ways unimaginable. With yoga and a proper diet, I conquered my insomnia. This insomnia began at age eight! I am more in control of my worry than I have ever been. I am bursting with happiness.
My politics have also changed. I categorize myself as a recovering feminist. My idealism has shifted to a middle ground. I no longer hold ideals like they are liquid gold in my palm. I can shake and scatter them about the place. I don't fear boobie implants.
Part of why I am good at my job is my absolute tolerance. On my best days, what ever patients give me, I receive with unwavering gratitude. Nothing shocks me. Things may surprise me, but nothing gives me cause to believe they are right or wrong. There is so much shame involved with telling one's story. I seek to lift this. I am a welcoming place to shed their skin.
How can I hold Ramona and her heart of worry and angst? She tolerates me. Me with my poking fun at her liberalism. Her pro-choice key chain. Me with my ambivalence toward politics. Me with my love for The Girls Next Door.
But I don't want her to tolerate me. I want her to feel what I feel. Calm and finally free. But things are not looking that way. So I pulled back a little. She found out about my exam results through this blog and a call to Mr. Hall. This greatly upset her.
The choice now is to move forward. If I was having problems with Mr. Hall, the choice as to how to move forward, would be very clear. But, she is complicated. And so am I.
And that is where we stand now.
Ramona, I dedicate this to you.