Marrying George Clooney

i’m kind of figuring with this blog post a couple of you out there will breathe a sigh of relief, so i’m going for it.
full on. no holding back.
i saw my therapist/intuit today. bonny. bonny is the kind of person/woman who can pull anything out of you. anything you no longer need, that no longer fits or suits you – she can just grab hold and yank. and it’s painless. truly. it’s a loving yank. you don’t even know she’s doing exploratory surgery and then boom. done. over. and then she’ll hug you, a good strong hug – and then everything feels and looks better.
i never talk about my dad in therapy. never. ever.
i always talk about my mom — mom this, mom that… and i just matter-of-factly assumed she was the central figure in my embracing womanhood with such a passion & fury & a bit of salt to toss on the already open wound.
turns out, my dad, wasn’t mr. easy going. he was a major player. as in, HELLO, big time.
today in talking and digging through some huge dirt piles, a humungous realization: my father could never, ever forgive. NEVER. not only that, but he would rub your face in the crap over and over and over. just keep throwing it back at you, reminding you all the time of your fuck ups, and bad shit and you know, repeat offender stuff. why’d you do that? why’d you do that?
today i understand with every fiber in my being why it is so fucking hard for me to step out of the past. and now i get it. i get why i’m stuck here…. STUCK there. because my father kept me stuck there. because that’s all he knew. it was passed down from one generation to the next. my grandmother berated him constantly, repeatedly, and he took that lovely habit and decided to put his own stamp on it. it’s simple really. we repeat what we know. he knew berating. maybe he mistook it for love. that’s possible. i mistook the HOV lane for love for two full years. boy was i wrong.
so, my father, the man who i anointed saint sam, turns out, had a bad icky habit — the habit of never letting go.
i saw it clear as a bell — i did. i had an aha moment that lasted way beyond it’s official aha-dom. it was like ah. haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. wow. wow. aha. holy shit.
and my brother and i were on the receiving end of his constant “post-it” reminders, except they were neither yellow or adhesive ready. we were never, or hardly ever, forgiven for anything. i can vividly recall my dad bringing up crap from when i was twelve years old when i was forty years old and i also remember thinking, “why is he bringing this shit up again? it is so old.” turns out, get this, it’s called pathology. and it turns out that it can really, truly, deeply fuck you up.

so all this time i’m thinking, wow, my mom was such a major trip, but the kicker, turns out my dad was driving the car. she was a trip, but he was in possession of the roadmap.
but for whatever reason, when i left therapy i felt & knew two things:
one: HOLLYE WOULD BE ECSTATIC since it appears we’re both going through the same experience. so, i go to therapy and we both benefit.
two: i really appreciated my life so much more today.
i saw why i do what i do, how i keep myself stuck in the past and saw a way out. i did.
the berating part, the beating myself over and over and over is going out the proverbial window. i understand the root, yanking it out. no longer want it growing in my garden, thank you very much. old & stale and does not make for a grand bouquet.
today i thoroughly embrace my future. my gorgeous, miraculous, stunning future with the absolute clarity that everyone — EVERYONE – makes mistakes, no one gets off scott free, and forgiveness is an art form. there is nothing more powerful & glorious than giving someone the opportunity to walk straight into their future with head held high, without any hint what so ever of a childhood filled with tremendous doubt & angst, fear & unhappiness. To walk full on in. Hope, courage, compassion, belief. BE-LIEF that anything and everything is possible. not tainted with the reminder of no’s, and can’t, and won’t work out, and boy you really fucked that up… no need for that at all.

really, what is the point?
really, what is the point?
again. let me repeat: really, what is the point?

so here’s a toast to those who just didn’t know any better.
may we be the one’s to lead them into the future and guide them the next time around.