Blindsided IV

I have a few perfect moments, I like to collect them then replay them in my mind. Sometimes I swap them out as I collect new ones...and I was collecting a lot of new ones with Marcus. He's a writer, and he's good. His passion hits the same heights as mine and it knocks me back a bit, he's truly talented in so many ways. When he pours all of that and his knowledge of sports together I could read him all day long. He writes about me, he breathes life into our relationship when we can't be together, it's sweet and thoughtful. We struggle at times, our energy is almost the same and we both come with a wealth of it, I wish at times they didn't mix, or effect one another. I romanticize the expectations I have on myself, others and relationships and feel that I can't connect properly on one end or the other. The other day, Marcus was telling me about a conversation he had with his coach where he breaks down the course into 3 mini courses and uses those as individual tournament markers. I think it's brilliant, I'm going to use that for my days, I'll break it into three parts and that way imperfect moments can't ruin my whole day...

Golf is teaching me so much...

Blindsided III

Golf is funny, but in a way that’s frustrating to the point of self-destruction and just when you’re ready to throw your clubs in the air it pulls you back in with a chip shot right into the cup. We already know he’s made of W’s, from softball to poker to golf he is exceptional. The other day he found strength and determination through the agony of lost balls, off set rules and an unforgiving course. I watched him, standing under a tree on the back nine, chin to the sky and eyes closed…he’s digging deep. I’ve never seen this side, I’ve never had the opportunity, the privilege to witness the attempt at a comeback. He knows the math, he knows all the scores, what’s left and what he can accomplish in the last four holes…maybe not the W, but I wanna see what he can do. I choke down my anxiety and watch him step up to fifteen. 

This is one of my favourite things on earth…Marcus at the tee box with his driver…there’s nothing better! He studies the fairway, spots the pin, steps into box and makes magic. I have yet to meet someone who has golfed with him and isn’t picking their jaws up from the greens. There’s always one who see his greatness, they seem to be the ones that understand and respect the game and what he brings to it, he’s a purist. Like a quiet mentor because they have played the course to remembrance and can’t wait give him a tour, to be of some assistance to him. Witnessing is enough for many, but some respectfully find their way into his space through small talk. I’m sure they carry it around with them too…they know where’s he’s headed and likely can’t wait to tell their friends about the day they golfed with him. Maybe a few will throw in how they helped him birdie a hole…or even gifted him a club. 

He’s steady, his confidence checked back in and his focus has been restored. He always has the furthest drive, so I never miss a shot walking to his next one. I’m counting the strokes in my head, obsessing over the other players scores and wondering what can actually happen. He's counting too, except on a completely different level…he already has all the combinations figured out. He drops in a birdie. I jump then try to compose myself, I’m not shocked. Another drive, another birdie. My heart is in my throat, his smile is still tucked away. By the time he walked into the tee box at seventeen I was full on holding my breath…as if it would make a difference. I’ve lost all the math and combinations of winning…I’m strictly here to bear witness…he drops another birdie; I throw my arms in the air as a silent cheer and make my way to eighteen. 

Sitting on the bench it hits me like truck, when my flood gates open, I can never seem to find the way to close them again. I can never seem to gather my composure and find a way to move forward without crumbling under the pressure while my confidence runs away. When I’m close enough, I sync my breath with his, just to be in his calmness. I couldn’t get that close today, I’m just a spectator at his tournament, and I can only offer smiles and encouragement from afar. 

He didn’t birdie the last hole, he bogied…but that’s beside the point now. I don’t know what he prayed for standing under that tree a few holes back, but I can tell you it was delivered. Some people never find the courage to step into their greatness and take a real shot at their dreams…and then some people have nothing but courage and a long line of cheerleaders hoping to be part of something great. 

Blindsided II

What if your greatness isn't great at all, what if you're only here to bear witness to someone else's greatness? I think about that. I think about everything I have done, everything I have created and I wonder, in all of that...am I greatness or bearing witness. We must all believe we have some sort of greatness in us, perhaps a seed planted by a parent, teacher or sibling...something that separates us. I would have told you everyday for the better part of my life that I am bound for greatness and I still believe that...but now I consider the scope and what greatness truly means to me. I read a quote that said, "We all die. The goal isn’t to live forever, the goal is to create something that will." Greatness isn't left to us, you can't always gage it like an elite athlete who breaks records in real time...some of us will never know greatness merely because of our mortality, so, as a token, I will bear witness to others. 

I met Marcus online, Twitter actually, not even a dating site. He's clever, not in the smart ass way I am, he's actually clever in his thoughts and strategies. He's a poker guru, or was at one point in his early twenties but don't let that fool you, he has no shame in taking your hard earned money right off the table. He's funny, loves sports, is a writer and at 35 years old...he's making a play for the PGA Tour. I fucking hate golf, or, hated it up until a couple of months ago. We met in Las Vegas for our first week of dates and spent much of it on the course. Once he showed me how to drive the ball I could understand the draw to the game, at least until putting came along. At the driving range he's completely unsuspecting, he just goes about his business for the first few balls but once he uses his driver...the gallery starts to form. Have you ever watched a grown man take clubs from his bag just to watch someone else use them, cause I haven't. I almost fell over when he insisted on gifting Marcus one of his drivers. And that would have been fine and a great little memory...had it not happened at every range. 

Perhaps for now, I'll bear witness to his greatness while I manifest my own...

Blindsided I

Joseph and I parted ways almost five months ago, it was hurtful...but by that time, everything was hurtful. I couldn't even tell you what happened, and today, I don't even care...everything reaches completion. I spent several weeks meditating and pouring love into myself and finally reached the destination of indifference. I didn't want it to get to that point but it did and so I do the work and vacate him from my soul. One day I will go back to collect some memories, ones outside of my book, but right now I refuse to pour more energy into watering dead flowers. 

I struggled, a lot. Not with him leaving, but the fashion, the pain and the trauma he unloaded as he left and it's difficult not to take it personally...even knowing it's his own insecurities eating him alive. One day I remember feeling relieved, probably more for him than myself. I could feel his anxieties around me, around my time and around the ways my life was changing and expanding. It didn't feel difficult to let him go, after listening to someone tell you the same things over and over you can no longer unfeel those feelings or unhear those words and collectively we released each other from the agony our relationship had evolved into. 

I didn't know what life after Joseph would feel like, I guess I didn't ever think about it. My friends rallied around and filled all the spaces in my heart and day, and just like that they lifted me back into my balance. I spent several weeks wondering, thinking back and trying to find any sense in it all but the reality is that in life and in love many things will never make sense. I stopped going back trying to complete the puzzle and just accepted that all the pieces were never there. Trying to make something work without proper pieces only creates droplets of resentment that collect over time and pool in your heart. It's not enough to just want something and so I step back and decide if it's worth trying again with someone else...

We Start Again

It's fallen again, just like it did with the agents. I'm hurt but I'm not mad, it feels different but somehow looks the same. After cutting my cover person I parted ways with my editor who would have also been my publisher as he gets ready to launch his new company in the next few weeks. Perhaps it will be the last time I hire a friend, right now I'm still trying to process everything. I can tell you in the end he just wasn't a good friend to me and over stepped my boundaries right into my personal life. When I requested he stop, he became passive aggressive and I didn't care to work with him anymore. It's funny because the same reason people are drawn to me becomes the same reason people cannot stay around me...they love my transparency but cannot give it in return. He became mean, using my vault to unload his lies and manipulations, poisoning me with his negativity. It wasn't difficult to walk away from the editing and publishing side but it's been difficult losing someone that I considered a dear friend. It wasn't always a bad friendship but the last few weeks of it showed me sides of him I wished I would had seen months prior. 

I'm just carrying on with what I was writing and have reconnected with my first coach to help me bring my project to life. I'm not afraid to do this on my own...

It's amazing that people who behave like gatekeepers still believe I can be controlled.  They couldn't walk in my shoes for a day...and it kills them! 

Rage, Rage Podcast

I sat down with Nevin and Gus to discuss open marriage and my book, Crazy on the Inside. This is my first one outside of America and it was so much fun. Have a listen...

https://t.co/CCabHMM84n?amp=1

Trust or Bust

As my world continues to open up and people flood in, sometimes I cant keep track of what they bring with them. I'm struggling to trust some people in my life, I watch them waver in their boundaries, push a narrative and attempt to make me second guess myself. I don't like people who thrive in the passive aggressive, gritting their teeth while trying to smile...my stomach hurts. I can't sleep much, terrified that what happened before will happen again...my work, my words, are everything and who I tie those to has to be able to represent it...to the fucking letter! 

Someone in Hollywood read my memoir and cast their very wide net to see if there was interest...I was beyond shocked when I heard the news...it was just the other week. I've been imagining this since the day I started my book...whatever happens this is further then I ever thought possible...so now I dream bigger. People are reaching out like I have never experienced, I had a podcast in Scotland book me to help introduce and explain my journey through open marriage as well as orders for book clubs. I like to joke with Dan that when the movie comes out people will be shocked it was a book first. I'll never stop envisioning the life we want as we move closer and closer to it...