One of my coworkers took me out to lunch last week as a goodbye. Despite being a very serious Christian (he’s leaving to Papua New Guinea to be a missionary in about a year), he was one of my favourite coworkers. He never made me feel like I was wrong for being who I am, and in fact, never expressed an opinion about it at all, other than live and let live (which is his life motto, essentially).
We had a conversation about faith–he was very interested, since from things I had said, he knew I’d been to both bible college and seminary, not to mention he had seen my Christian tattoo on my forearm. It was a good talk, actually. But it did lead me to say what I’ve thought for some time now: that I didn’t leave my faith so much as was kicked out. I was never welcome, for a progressive list of reasons–being a woman, being a feminist, being single, being gay (although, being gay makes being single better, so they can pretend I’m not having gay sex).
But as much as I tried to be part of the church, I couldn’t find my place. And nothing about me fit in. I tried, I tried so hard. I eventually gave up. I mean, why be part of a religion that doesn’t even want you?
To be honest, that’s as much as I have given thought to questions of faith. Someday, I need to give it more, really think about where I sit, other than on the outside.
Last week’s canceled date finally happened last night. We went for Thai and hot chocolate and it was delightful. We’re going bouldering this Saturday. So we’ll see if it goes anywhere or not.
I start my new job on September 30th. My bosses told the company today that I was leaving (there’s only 12 of us). People seemed genuinely surprised, which was surprising to me. I have made no secret of my boredom and lack of satisfaction.
Netflix sent me an email to let me know that Season 5 of New Girl was up. So, you know, you know that’s what I’ll be doing.
I’ve mostly managed to pull myself out of the horribleness I found myself in this week. Shutting things down really helped. I also got to talk to my best friend this morning, which was fantastic. She always is great about things, and objective, which I like.
I also started job hunting this last week and got an offer today. (Last time I was job hunting, it also only took about a week. I don’t want to admit the economy is better, but perhaps it is?) I haven’t accepted yet, but I plan on doing so tomorrow. It will come with a pay raise, which will really help my finances. And, with any luck, it will keep me busy.
I had a date tonight with someone new–they had invited me to dinner at a vegan restaurant, and I wasn’t excited, to be honest. I’m not against vegan food, but most restaurants try to incorporate too many fake substitutes–I prefer vegan food that is just entirely without and fakes. Anyway, they canceled this morning, and I rejoiced. It clearly seems that the universe is trying to make up for the abysmal week I’ve had thus far.
My tattoo is healing nicely. Almost three weeks ago I got part two on my Harry Potter tattoo–it’s the Hogwarts crest, with an emphasis on my house (Ravenclaw). After it’s all the way healed, I can get the final installment done, which will include a wee bit of color. I’m pretty excited for that.
That’s about it for now.
I’m crawling back into myself, at least for a little while… I’ve put my facebook on deactivated (but only temporarily–I think it’s set to automatically reactivate in 7 days), my twitter and instagram are on private, my dating apps are deactivated (not deleted). I’ve cleared my entire phone log, as well as text messages, plus I logged out of skype. I am doing my best to disappear online.
I am tired of people. I am also tired of putting my life on display (granted, I do that to myself, but opening yourself allows for others to feel as though they are allowed to criticize without invitation). I am tired of being the one who reaches out, instead of the one that others reach to. That being said, I’m going to try to stop reaching out. I’m also going to try to not respond if someone does reach out to me, at least for a little while, at least until I feel better.
I spent years refusing to open up to anyone. In my twenties, I learned that it’s better (in theory) to open up, to allow people to see who you really are. But now, in my mid-thirties, I’m learning that I don’t think that’s true. It’s better to remain closed and impersonal. I’m tired of inviting people into my life, only to realize much later that it was a mistake.
I just need time to lick my wounds.