Eat, Pray, Love

"People think a soul mate is our perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life"
                                                                                                    - Richard from Texas


I just saw the movie "Eat, Pray, Love" with Julia Roberts on DVD (while drinking wine and eating pasta. And gelato.) And it made me thankful for what I have, but gave me a bit of the travel bug as well. How could it not? Italy, India, Indonesia... some of the most beautiful places in the world, all places I'd love to see someday.

With D, of course.

A few years back I read the book Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, and at the time it was a revelation. I don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't read it yet, but her path to self-discovery took her all over the world. She experienced excruciating heartbreak and sadness before she finally found what she was looking for, before she found happiness. I have not experienced the pain she did personally that drove her to make that journey, but when I look back on the last six years of my life or so, I realize that I've been on a journey too.

Many times in life it takes heartbreak or hardship to grow as a person. To finally see yourself clearly, to truly know what your worth is. I feel fortunate enough that I have gone through that without any real emotional scars, and came out on the other side a changed person.

I grew.

I 'met' myself for the first time in my adult life, and finally figured out who hem is on her own. I was living alone in LA at the time, and the period following that heartbreak are some of the happiest memories of my adult life. I met new people and made great friends I still talk to today. I had an active social life. I focused on my career more. All things that so easily fall by the wayside when your life is defined by another person or the relationship you're in, rather than yourself.

I've witnessed friends have their hearts broken but not be changed by it. They still dated the same types of guys who would break their hearts again, and they never seemed to feel that they were worth more than that. Or at least that's what their behavior would indicate.

I know now without a doubt that period of growth for me is why I'm where I am today. I met D about a year after I 'found' myself, and the person he met was the one he fell in love with. The new me. Having that time to myself made me realize what I wanted in a relationship, and when I met him and got to know him, I knew he could make me happy for the rest of my life. But I might not have known that if I hadn't had that year to myself first.

On the flip side being in a relationship with D has changed me as well, but in good ways I think. He is the savory to my sweet. The calm seas to my storm. I look back and see how much I've mellowed since I met him (he has a very calming effect on me). He helps me to not sweat the small stuff, which is something I do all too easily. He puts things into perspective, reminds me of what's really important in life. So I guess really, the person I am now isn't the one he met five years ago. It's a hybrid of who I was then and who I am now, which isn't a bad thing because I still know who I am as a person.

And at the moment, it's a Marine Corps Mistress with the travel bug and a husband who lives six thousand miles away.

:P

I haven't done much traveling thus far in my adult life. I'll be 30 in less than five months and I have zero stamps in my passport. It's something I desperately want to rectify, but my biggest problem is I want to see them with D. All of it. The whole world. And that really isn't going to happen until he and I actually live in the same country, for starters.

I already know where I want to start though: Italy. It looks like a place where you could go and just fall in love all over again in. We've already talked about taking that trip when D rotates home, so I have plenty of time to plan before he gets back.

That and think about all the amazing food we'll get to eat when we finally get there.

Struggle Within

I won't lie; I've had a time of it with D gone as of late.

It's like I took two steps forward in setting up my 'home alone' routine, and his visit at Christmas set me back to square one. In the three weeks he was home I got used to him being around, having someone to talk to. It made me realize just how much I miss him when he's gone.

Normally I adjust when he leaves, keep calm and carry on. I'm really, really good at staying busy, which is a valuable skill set when you're a military wife. I think what's been throwing me off course is the fact that he's not on a deployment, and that sets me up for the expectation that I can talk to him regularly (like we did during his last two deployments). That we can Skype all the time so I can see his face. That we'll still have our usual sarcastic banter back and forth via IM and email that makes it feel like we have a normal relationship, like everyone else who gets to see their spouse every day.

Except we don't.

His new unit and subsequent work schedule keeps him at work 14+ hour days in most cases. Not even weekends are sacred. I emailed the FRO to find out why the crazy hours were a regular thing and was basically told this is just the way it is, so we have to deal with it. Which of course is no comfort, and being half way around the world I don’t have the support of the other wives who are just as husband-less as I am. I am an island (which I find ironic since Okinawa is an island, and San Diego is anything but). 

I saw this post on another blog I happened across, Whiskey Straight, and it perfectly articulated how I've been feeling:

An old Cherokee chief was teaching his grandson about life…

“A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.

“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.

“One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego.

“The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.

“This same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather,

“Which wolf will win?”

The old chief simply replied,

“The one you feed.”

I don't want to feed the frustration and bitterness that gets a hold of me every now and then, but it's really hard not to sometimes. I never thought I'd be in a position where talking to my spouse was a luxury, and yet here I am, sometimes going weeks without hearing from D. I also don't want people’s pity though, and that's why I don't really talk about it with anyone. Not my family, not my friends (although I suppose it seems hypocritical to talk about it here).  But that's why I started this blog in the first place. It's my Switzerland - the place I can vent all this type of stuff without anyone throwing me a pity party.

My hope when I began writing was that there might be other women like me out there in the blogosphere. Who have moments where they feel like a bad wife for hating their husband's job. For feeling guilty about getting emotional when they've had a bad day and all they want is a hug when they get home, but that's not in the cards. It's about the good, bad and ugly of being a military wife, or any sort of work widow really.

I know I will struggle with my two wolves for the next 10 years of D's career, and that's something I accepted a long time ago. This life is anything but easy, but it is temporary (he's already got his retirement date picked for cryin' out loud). I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

Someday, my husband will be all mine.  And I will no longer be a mistress to the Marine Corps.

But for now I choose to feed the good wolf, and remember that all of these sacrifices are worth it in the end.

Because when you love someone, that's all that matters.

A Time To Plant...

...a time to rip my hair out in frustration.

I thought the hard part was over when the hard scape portion of my yard project was done. We put up a new fence (custom made by Dad!), distributed gypsum to help break down all the lovely clay that makes up pretty much all of San Diego County, put in drain pipes and filled in the planter that was empty (and non-existent) before. I've even had gutters installed to help preserve the hard scape and newly minted planter beds in the front yard from the roof runoff that we were having while it was raining. For what felt like the entire month of December. What I didn't anticipate though was how hard it was going to be to decide what, exactly, I was going to put in those planters.  Besides plants.

Why is this so hard?

Sure, I know where the grass and roses are going to go, but I'm still left with three empty planter areas and a whole host of possibilities that makes my head spin. I know part of the problem is I'm putting undue pressure on myself, but this is the front yard of my house.

My calling card.

The first impression people will have of me as a homeowner, before ever having laid eyes on me or met me.

Every opinion formed of me by every stranger who ever passes by my home will be based on what they think of my yard.

Yea, no pressure or anything.

(Normally I don't care too much about what other people think, but my home is a source of pride for me.  That and I have an HOA.  'nuff said).

If it sucks, then that's all people will be able to see. It will distract them from all the gorgeous stack stone and the five stone, variegated, tumbled pavers I just put down. That and the fact that I took the time to painstakingly scrutinize five shades of white to ensure my gutters perfectly match my trim and stucco?  That will all be for naught because all they can think is, "what were they thinking with those plants?"  (Overly dramatic?  Perhaps, but bear with me... I'm trying to make a point). 

If it's fabulous, I can relax knowing that I'm not the one bringing down everyone's property value, and can have the self satisfaction of having raised the bar for the neighborhood that much more.  In the spirit of full disclosure I should note: we received an anonymous nasty gram in our mailbox about the state of our yard right after we'd moved in, which neither of us have forgotten or quite forgiven.  The ink wasn't even dry yet on our mortgage, we'd been homeowners for a matter of weeks and suddenly there was a note saying "If you don't have time to take care of your yard, you should hire someone to do it for you."  It was all I could do to keep D from going door to door demanding to know who'd written it. Luckily for them we were already planning on ripping the yard out (which is why we weren't watering it), but that only added fuel to the fire.

Rude, gutless neighbors aside; I want a yard I can be proud of. Something that's beautiful for my benefit, first and foremost. I've been scouring books and nurseries for ideas, and let me tell you, if you want to be overwhelmed pick up a copy of the Sunset Gardener's Handbook. Ho-ly Cow. Anything you could ever want to know about any sort of plant is in there, which is probably why it's not the best place to start. It's a lot to digest all at once without actually being able to see anything in person.

Naturally I'd love D's input on these sorts of things, but of course his living in a different country doesn't lend itself to helping with weekend projects such as these. Dad's been my man power during the last six months, and for that I've been eternally grateful. Next up on our list is to finish distributing the mulch in the planters, rototill everything in to mix it all up, finish removing the last of the tree roots from the 20’ tree I had ripped out of the front yard, and then rent a trencher to dig the trenches for the sprinkler and electrical conduits. (Ah yes, Landscape Design 101 continues...) After that we can install the sprinklers and start to actually plant some plants!

Which of course brings me back to... what exactly am I going to put in the planters?

One Year

Today's the day.  One year ago today I married D (and the Marine Corps for that matter).  My how time flies when you're insanely busy.

I actually got to talk to D yesterday morning which was a very happy surprise.  We hadn't spoken on the phone since he arrived in Japan over two weeks ago, so hearing his voice was a great way to start the weekend.  He hasn't had Internet in his room since he got there, so there's no way to email, IM, or skype.  I really miss being able to talk to him on a regular basis, but its amazing how something as simple as an hour long phone call can make you feel so much better. Our lack of communication since he got there has been making me more and more anxious. I feel like there's so much going on that I want/need to talk to him about, and yet I can't.

Unfortunately he was calling because he'd had a particularly bad day and really needed to talk to me, but I was glad that I heard the phone ring and woke up so I could take his call.  It also made me glad that when he had a bad day, the one person he wanted to talk to about it was me.  You have to understand, my husband is not a complainer.  He's a Marine.  He compartmentalizes things that bother/upset him because that's what he was trained to do.  They can't allow anything to distract them because depending on where they are and what they're doing, that could put people's lives at risk.  Do I wish he was able to talk about what's on his mind more than he does?  Absolutely.  But I understand why he doesn't, and I just hope someday when he's no longer active duty he can learn to process things as they happen rather than store them away to be forgotten. 

We were also able to talk about the tentative plans for the yard which is something I've been itching to do.  It's been weird meeting with designers and getting estimates and mapping things out without him here to bounce ideas off of, get immediate input on.  I'm really excited about it all though, the yard is going to look so great when it's done!  I'm meeting with another outfit this week and after I get numbers back from them I should be able to make a decision about who to hire.  I'm still having moments where I sit back and say, "holy cow, we own a house."

Other than adjusting to D being gone life is starting to take it's familiar "on my own schedule" shape.  I feel perpetually tired, and yet I can't seem to get to bed before 12m or 1a.  I'll just start puttering around the house doing little things that need to get done and before I know it, it's waaaaaaay past my bedtime.  If D were home we'd be in bed by 1030p every night.  He's a routine guy like that.

For our one year anniversary gift (to ourselves) I got us an anniversary journal.  It's a gorgeous hand bound book with entries for us to write about each anniversary - how we celebrated, memorable moments from the year, and a place for us to share our thoughts on the last year with one another.  I figured since we'd be spending the next few years apart it'd be a good way to document the time we did get to spend together, and also a great thing to be able to look back on further down the road.

I don't know what the next few years are going to be like, but I know this first year was our best yet: it's the longest amount of uninterrupted time we've spent together since we met, and I can't think of a better way to spend your first year of marriage.

Happy Anniversary D, I love you.

Marriage is a Verb

"Marriage is not a noun; it's a verb. It isn't something you get. It's something you do. It's the way you love your partner every day." —Ann Landers 

Ann, I couldn't agree more.

(if you guessed that I'm about to climb onto my Marriage soapbox, go give yourself a cookie...) ;-)

Marriage is especially a verb if you're married to the military (trust me, there's no escaping that fact when you're a Marine Corps mistress...) I've spent more time apart from D than I have with him in the four years we've been together, and while that may sound hellish to most, it's the only life we know. We're both fiercely independent people (jury's still out if that's a bad thing or not,) and having the space that we get is just something we work with. I like to think it makes the time we do have together that much more special, but it's not like I'll forego a girls night out just because he's home.

I think the biggest key here though is that marriage is an action word. We constantly make the effort to be present every day for each other, to be supportive and caring and loving, both in person and when we're apart. Just because my husband's job dictates our geography and how much he's home doesn't mean it has to dictate our relationship. That's something we control. I chose this life when I chose him. I knew what I was getting into. Is it fun? It has its moments, just like everything else (the uniforms are definitely an added bonus,) but at the end of the day I'm married to my best friend and I'd choose that over an easy/cushy life any time.

Given that I'm still a newbie to "The Club" I don't feel that I'm in any position to really give marriage advice, but what I can say is this: cherish every moment you have with your partner, because there are those of us who don't have the luxury of having our significant other home every night. I'll miss D when he's off in Bahrain for six weeks, but you'd better believe I'm going to take full advantage of this time apart to remind myself of why my life is so much better with him in it, and how lucky I am to be his wife.

I am Strong, I am Invincible, I am...

Exhausted.

No, this has nothing to do with the crazy schedule I keep (spending 1.5 - 2 hours in the car every day commuting to work would make may people crazy, but luckily I love my car and have five years of LA traffic experience under my belt, so I'm thankful that my 30 miles only takes 45-60 minutes...)

This is the mental exhaustion before the storm. I can recognize it now because I've been through it a few times - two seven month deployments will do that to you. No matter how ready I get for D to leave for an extended period of time, I always get anxious before he goes. I can't help it. I get caught up in all the things I want to get done before he leaves. This trip is only for about six weeks so it's nothing major (ha!), but it comes at a rather inopportune time.

For example: the fact that we could potentially go into escrow and move while he's gone. Kind of a big deal, no? This is the first "big decision" thing we've done together since getting married and it kills me a little inside to think that he might miss out on that moment. Not to mention what a cliché it would be for the lone military wife to be signing all those papers with her trusty POA (power of attorney) beside her on the table instead of her husband. (Never mind that our offer was accepted over a month ago on the property, and under normal circumstances we'd have been in escrow for a while now, but as JB would say, "that's a whole 'nother Oprah...") Short sale? There's nothing short about it.

I'm trying to focus on the positive though, like six weeks of unadulterated "Me!" time I have to look forward to. My weekends are already filling up and I'm looking forward to some quality girl time with friends I haven't seen in a while. I can hardly believe that April's already half way over, and that my 10 year High School reunion is just a mere two months away.

Oiy.

In other strength testing news, the washing machine is on strike. Sadly, the strike went into effect sometime between the wash and rinse cycle, and I spent a better part of last night 'fishing' for my gym clothes and underwear. This was followed by a 'rinse' cycle in a bath tub whose stopper is broken, all while in my underwear so as not to soak my only dry pair of pajamas.

Lovely.

Of course, this now moves the washer to the top of my 'to do/fix before D leaves' list, but I'm sure that doesn't surprise anyone.

Pride cometh...

The saying goes, "Pride cometh before the fall." There are lots of things that cause us to fall. We fall (a lot) when we first learn how to walk. We fall into our work when we want to get our minds off personal matters. Scandal causes us to fall from grace. And we fall in love.

I thought I had it all figured out... before I fell in love with D. If there's anything that life has taught me thus far, it's that you don't really know yourself until you've seen yourself through someone else's eyes (also known as, humility does wonders for your ego...) It's also taught me that in spite of what you may already know about yourself, those things can change in the blink of an eye. Change is good. Any species on the planet that hasn't evolved has died, and I think the same goes for a person's soul.

I find myself in uncharted territory as of late. Being a newlywed, I have to think in terms of "we" instead of "me", of "us" instead of "I". I have a new name, and with it comes a whole new identity. I still stumble when saying my new full name to people, and hesitate ever so slightly when referring to "my husband". I know it will take time for those ticks to work themselves out, but it's the larger implication of these words and titles that give me pause. I want to do them justice. I am half of a whole now. I am one half of a unit, a team, a newly formed family. While we're both doing our best we know that nothing and no one is perfect, and that we'll have a few laughs at our own expense along the way.

And yet, ironically...

A girlfriend of ours lovingly wrote on the card on our wedding gift, "To the perfect couple," and I like to think we strive every day to make that sentiment true (as best as we can at least.) For now, I'm content watching my husband attempt to beat my scores on the Wii Fit, and dishing out the healthy dose of teasing that goes along with that. We do have to keep each other grounded as a part of the growing process, after all.