Shifts

Its funny how your perspective changes with just a little time. A year ago I hated California and everything in it. Being from the East Coast, California seems like a state full of blonde ditzes with fake boobs and guys who smoke pot and surf all day. New England, after all, is the birthplace of modern America and arguably where culture and art is at its finest. New York is the center of everything from fashion to business and D.C. is just uber cool. East Coasters are snobs, and, we are kind of entitled to our pride. But my real reason for hating California had nothing to do with plastic surgery (after all, prior to this past summer I had never been west of Las Vegas)—it had everything to do with what I associated it with. My ex fiancé’s now-wife lived there and it was a Newport Beach cell phone number I found on our phone bill a few months before our wedding date. It was from California where she hailed that fateful night when he kissed her while there was still a ring on my finger. At the time I thought, “Its California”. I hated California and everything that it reminded me of. It wasn’t until over a year later that I stepped of the plane at L.A.X. and let the soft humidity wash over me that I realized how great it was. From In-N-Out to the absolutely perfect weather to the Whole Foods Market in Westwood, I was in love. Its funny how your prejudices melt away when you finally experience something for yourself. Like falling in love (twice) after breaking up with him. I thought I would never love anyone like I loved him—after all, in my naiveté I was convinced he was my soul mate. I thought that everyone would treat me the same (and sometimes I still do…sorry babe), traces of my prejudices still exist—but I’m learning to let myself experience trust. He doesn’t know this, but I am grateful to him. Ok, I could have done without the three weeks of not eating (well, actually, that was kind of great for my waistline) and crying myself to sleep for months, not to mention the heartache so tangible I felt like I had been stabbed—I owe him a huge “thank you”. Without him I never would have learned to go after what I really wanted.
I am happier than I have ever been...
Somehow I survived--somehow through the grace of God I made it out alive. And now I have the love (and am in love with) a man who makes me feel like a queen. He is like the other half of my soul....