Gentoo penguins are a breed of cute little penguins that during mating season, the males will scour the beach looking for a stone or pebble to present to a female of their choice. When they present the stone to the female, if she finds it acceptable, they will build a nest together and mate.
Very cute.
Very demure.
Very human-esque, IMO.
I mean, dating, at least for me, requires a bit more than a pebble, but that’s the barest of bones right there. Provide something for me and it goes from a trickle of attraction to the roar of a waterfall of affection and emotion.
I often wonder if people find dating as hard as I do. Sure, there’s the similar emotions that all of us face, but I sometimes feel I am handicapped at it. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing is yet to be determined.
I say this a lot but I don’t mean it in a bad way: I just don’t really actually like anybody.
And I don’t mean generally. I love most people, in a generic, platonic sort of way. What I’m talking about is having romantic feelings for someone.
I can fancy a guy. Find him attractive. Have a crush on him. Be flirty with him.
But to like him? To develop feelings for him?
Number one: Scary.
Number two: Hard to do.
And I wish I could tell you why.
I keep going through these weird thought patterns and feelings, and elations and grand ideas, and whirlwinds, and ground breaking revelations. But what do they actually mean?? I guess I never realized that life, at least mine, changes quite a lot. My feelings. My thoughts. My opinions. My patterns.
At first I thought the only thing missing in my life was someone to care about. But you know what I’ve discovered? The person that was missing care, was me.
I’ve learned that life is meant to be actually lived. Not just pictures saved on your Pinterest board or travel accounts to follow. But to actually go out a live it. Which of course, sounds sooo damn cliché. And it’s different for all of us. Living a good life to you may be vastly different than mine. But have you ever taken the time to actually look at your life and plan out things that bring you joy? I think that’s what vacations and traditions and happy hours are for. To plan a time to set aside your usual humdrum of routine and plan for joy.
Last week, I was deep in my feelings. Boohooing on my drives to and from work. Feeling listless, unmotivated and just defeated. My nails were chipped. My dishes were piled high. My hair was unwashed. I got this feeling that I wanted to just mourn. I wanted to go sit on the beach. I don’t know why, but I got this idea in my head about going and sitting in the beach at night and just crying on the shore.
So I made plans and I ended up going to the beach this past Saturday. I had a friend tag along that was aware I wasn’t feeling myself but he was not aware of what was wrong or why.
But we drove out to the beach. And it was cold and windy and dark and absolutely amazing.
The experience wasn’t what I was expecting. I was expecting to have an gnawing ache and I wanted to let this pool of heaviness that’s been crushing me lately out. I thought I’d sit and cry on the sand and let myself drain and then drive home empty. But we ended up talking on the sand. And joking a lot. And spotting shapes in the clouds. Talking about our past heartbreaks, current struggles and funny things we’ve experienced together. I laughed a lot more than I was expecting. I didn’t put up a front or pretend it be anything but myself and I felt light for the first time in weeks. We sat next to each other under a blanket and used each others body heat for some semblance of warmth but tbh, I preferred the chill. I liked feeling the icy wind, sitting there in front of the black water, cold sand, and city lights glinting behind us. There was no revelations revealed. No sappy soap opera. No hearts bleeding. Just companionship. Then we went and ate and got ice cream. And sometimes it isn’t profound activities that cure our heart ache. Sometimes it’s just regular conversation and another person willing to sit on the beach with you on a Saturday night, no alcohol, no sexual energy, no gossip, just breathing the same salty air.
And it’s moments like this that help me remember that my life is not comprised of all the dumb stuff I’ve done. It’s not a collection of failures to look back on and cringe. It’s not some harrowing tale I’ll pass down to my grandchildren of dangers and whoopsies. I may be going through a tough time in my heart and my mind at the moment but it doesn’t mean my life is bad. To be honest, I think it means I’m searching for purpose. I think it means my life actually matters to me. I think it’s a good thing to be going through these emotions, these feelings of hooks that carry the weight of things I cannot name. I’ve lived and breathed and loved and died and revived and I’ve had some kickass days, and some days my ass was kicked. Looking back on the patch work of experiences, I can see it and be in awe of what I actually do have instead of what I don’t.
I have the joy of raising my two kids in a house with light and air conditioning. I have a job to help pay for those kids and light and air conditioning. I have a family to aid me, to guide me, and to help pay for new dining room tables cause I tossed mine on a whim and have been eating on coffee tables and counters ever since. Thanks mom! I have friends who love me, encourage me, and would probably very gladly help to share the load of grief and anxiety I carry around if only I would ever bother to ask for help. I have the ability and the vacancy to accept someone into my life, if I can only get over whatever hill I’m battling with. I kept thinking that maybe I was unworthy of a great love. I hesitate to say “again” cause I’m not sure my marriage ever was a great love. And that thought alone absolutely breaks my heart but clears my vision. Maybe I’m looking for my first great love. Someone who is not afraid of the walls I am struggling to take down to help make space for him.
Guys, I have done so much growing. I’m like an annoying weed that just will not stop coming back. I remember writing in my previous blogs and the ultimate theme in those posts were “come at me bro”. And now my over all theme is, “how can I be softer?”
I even updated my dating profile with it.
Tbh, there are plenty of nice guys out there. And there are plenty of ways people can be charming and generous with their time and their money, especially when it comes to the opposite sex. Just gotta find one who’s crazy matches mine.
Gentoo penguins, who have a system to help carry on their lineage, don’t need to worry about the skeletons in the closet of their mates. People don’t have a system quite like that. I like to think we are a little more evolved in the aspect of finding a partner.
But you know the really beautiful thing I find about falling in love?
To me, it not the pebble that’s offered that I’d fall in love with.
It’s actually the penguin.
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