October Vibes

And they're all good

Greetings to you, from a chilly English autumn.

I’m writing this whilst sipping a homemade pumpkin spice latté (0% of the sugar, 100% of the taste) and admiring the vibrant lilies in the photo above (they were sent by the very special new man in my life).

As I was sitting here in my cozy little home office area, it occurred to me that my life is now brimming with hundreds of tiny amazing things, things that I love. I know that so many people seek the ‘one big thing’ to make their world feel complete or fulfilled – whether that’s a job, a person, a certain type of house, a number on the scale – but I’ve come to believe that a full, beautiful life is made up of tons of small things.

One of the lesser-discussed, devastating parts of being in an abusive relationship with a narcissist is that when you’re in it, you lose all ability to enjoy things. Big or small, it doesn’t matter: an abusive narcissist will suck all the happiness from your world, leaving you feeling utterly powerless and even crazy as you try to navigate the gaslighting and manipulation.

There’s no way to feel happy or peaceful when you’re walking on eggshells, just praying that when the narcissist walks in the door, the person ahead of them in the café wasn’t too slow/ somebody on the road didn’t cut them off/ their car isn’t acting up/ a customer didn’t annoy them at their job/ etc. and so on. None of these things have anything to do with you, of course, but that doesn’t matter; all that matters is that an adult is unable to manage their emotions, and so they just take them out on you.

Zero joy in that situation, I can assure you.

It’s only by being totally free of them – seeing them for who they really are as you uncover lie after lie that they told you and made you believe, and really look at them as a whole – that you crack open your soul to enjoying anything anymore.

So. Here I am, thinking about my life on this crisp Friday in October, and realising how so many small things have added up to one huge, astonishing life that I love fiercely. To name just a few:

• I joined a book club, and every month I go to discuss literature with a group of smart, funny, thoughtful women. We drink wine and laugh and end up discussing so much more than just books: I’m thrilled that six of the women and I meet up outside of book club and explore the city’s numerous brunch options every weekend. It’s so wonderful having friends again.

• Living in a city now means that I have easy access to public transportation, which takes me to cafés, restaurants, cinemas, hair and nail salons, book stores, art galleries, lingerie shops, the library… independent freedom of movement is freedom that I did without for so long.
  
  Getting into a car driven by the narcissist meant that I was physically trapped and had no control: he loved using that time to monologue at me, raging and arguing. A moving vehicle can be a weapon in the hands of an abusive person – this isn’t talked about nearly enough. I stopped getting into a car with him, so I stopped going anywhere with him, or anywhere much at all. The isolation was real – and it’s over.

• My first-born son turned eighteen last weekend (where has the time gone?) and I happily took him for a tattoo, for a drink, for dinner, and for some clothes shopping. It was a day of small activities, nothing earth-shattering (except for the tattoo, which is absolutely breathtaking), and we enjoyed every second of it. That kind of joy and calm was unheard of not so long ago, and we both revel in it now.

• The kids in my neighbourhood are growing up, and I’m loving watching it. When my son and I moved here last August, we embraced the fact that this is a family-oriented street, with three – or even four – generations of a family living under the same roof. Halloween is coming soon, and I’m already excited to see the kids’ costumes when I hand out candy.

• Sushi delivered right to my door! Or pizza! Or Indian food! Or Chinese delicacies! Or a bottle of wine! Or lipstick! I am still dazzled by the fact that people will bring things to me on request, and I am utterly spoiled for choice.

• The freedom to write when I want, as early or late as I want, without being interrupted or sabotaged. Instead of thinking about an immature, self-absorbed man and his constant outbursts, I think about writing day in and day out, and I write as often as I want to. I set my own deadlines, and my own schedule. I decide what my life looks like, and I don’t ask permission, not of anyone. I never will again.

• I’ve always been deeply in love with what are essentially two vastly different schools of fashion: the classic and the bohemian. Both of my grandmothers taught me the simplicity and elegance of clothes with clean lines, basic colours and sleek cuts. But I know full well that I’ve always been drawn to bright colours, and to the careless spirit of flowing, patterned dresses and tunics, and bootcut jeans and trousers. I’m a child of the 70’s in so many ways, and my love for its fashion is an integral part of how I long to express myself. The abiding love for such different fashion ethoses has resulted in what I have mentally dubbed ‘boho chic’, and it’s how I feel most comfortable dressing.
  
  So last month, I cleaned out my wardrobe fully, ending up donating nine bags of clothing, shoes and jewellery. I’ve lost almost 60 pounds since leaving my ex just over a year ago, and it was time to get rid of things that were hanging off me. I look in my closet now, and it’s such a source of delight: the purples, oranges, yellows, stripes, paisleys, block sandals with patterned heels, and knee-high boots… it’s all just so joyful, and I’m really enjoying expressing myself in a whole new way.

• It’s finally sweatah weathah!

• I’ve always stood straight (another lesson from my elegant grandmothers!), but time with an abusive man ground me down in so many ways, including crumpling my spine and spirit. I spent years slumped down and over, but that’s not who I am, it’s never who I was: I have a backbone and it’s a strong one. Now I once again walk tall, chin up, striding through my hard-won life in high heels and bright colours.

• All my life I’ve loved music, and now I sing all day, despite having a shockingly terrible voice. My happiness literally bubbles and bursts out of me, so I sing as I do the dishes, or cook, or organise my book shelves, or wash my hair. Joy as big as I feel cannot be contained, it appears, and so music is another small thing that has returned to my life.

• And of course, homemade pumpkin spice lattées, and gorgeous flowers from a wonderful man.

It’s a life with so many blessings now, and so much to be grateful for. I’m so happy that you’re all still here with me; you make my life richer and better, just by being in it.

Thank you.

Joy and love to you all,
Marysol