Traditional is not a word that I would use to describe myself. I'm not into gender roles or conventional ways. I am far out on the other end of the spectrum of socially acceptable standards. I am the polar-opposite of traditional. That's pretty much how I've always been. Even when I was a kid, I struggled to identify with what I thought I was supposed to be. My choices were limited, and I wasn't having any of it. I've been bucking the system since I was born.
And yet, there are certain charming attributes of a time-gone-by that I find endearing. There are some nostalgic, precious customs that make sense to me. And it only took 53 years for this side of me to be revealed.
Relationships have not been easy for me. I've had my share of difficulties, heartache and trauma. Did I pick the wrong guys? Probably. But those guys were just being who they were, and I chose to jump right into their chaos. I thrived on the drama.
Ten years ago, I learned about myself, erased the victim-role and cleaned up my side of the street. But it didn't happen overnight. During those early years of recovery, I had a short-lived relationship with a drug dealer, a long-distance relationship for several months with someone I barely knew, and a 3-year marriage that ended with a prison sentence (his, not mine). Since that time, I've had unorthodox relationships with a few guys, but I have no regrets. All of them were authentic. I entered into each one with eyes wide open and learned more and more about myself.
What happened next was surprising. Almost 11 months ago to the day, I had a conversation with a friend about dating, specifically dating him. He was someone I liked and trusted, someone who I thought would be able to handle dating me. He was confident and secure, independent and creative. He was self-employed, ambitious and thought outside-the-box, not to mention, tall, dark and gorgeous. But what was interesting then was, I was talking about dating, a word I never used. Dating meant commitment, and I certainly wasn't going down that road, or so I thought.
Was I giving up on life? Was I delusional? Was I having a midlife crisis? The answer was a big NO. Seriously, I woke up one morning with the epiphany that I was ready for a mature committed relationship, and there he was. Not immediately, and certainly not like a knight in shining armor, whisking me away on his white horse to a "happily forever after" nightmare. But, he was there, steady and sure, like a rock.
Here we are, 11 months later, after making a conscious decision to date, communicating what are needs were and putting together a plan of how this would work for us. Again, being unconventional people, we don't follow the rules. However, here's where I ironically discovered my old-fashionedness.
The list looks something like this:
With all that he does for me, the very things that I thought would make me less independent, have actually just simply softened me. Opening my car door, walking street-side, holding my hand, cooking dinner for me, giving me space, taking me out on dates, wanting to be with me when life gets hard, listening to me without fixing me - doesn't take away my strength. I'm still a strong independent woman. What he does for me, complements me. In other words, it adds to my strength, it doesn't take away from it. I have grown accustomed to, and enjoy some beautiful precious old-fashioned customs and ways. I would have never known this about myself if it had not been for him.
I'm happy to report that there is light at the end of the tunnel for us, ladies - those of us badass women who do everything for ourselves, refuse the help of others and take matters into our own control. Listen up! It is okay. Better than that, it is a blessing when a warrior steps up and is honored to be a part of our lives. Let him in. I know, it'll be a challenge at first. You'll want to do things your way. Compromise a little, let him cherish you. Keep being who you are, state your boundaries and communicate at all costs. Then, watch the magic happen. We don't need to be alone, or insist on always doing everything by ourselves. There is something delicate and heart-warming in the ways he will show up and be unwavering. Take him for his word, because it is gold. Trust him completely, because he is safe. Love him for all that he is, because he is honest. Know that all he does is for you, because you are a goddess.
Enjoy the sweet little things he will do for you, because they are huge in comparison to what you've struggled with before. Here's the best part - cherish him back, just as hard and as gently as he does you. You're in for the ride of your life, trust me. And remember, it is absolutely alright to be a little old-fashioned in this day and age. Some things have stood the test of time, and they are still just as important today as they were then.
Thanks for reading.
What a difference four years can make. Not only was I younger, I was totally inexperienced in the way of becoming an Indie Author.
I look at this photo today, New Year's Day, 2017, and reminisce about the pre-butterfly period, my cocoon stage - the metamorphosis of my life.
I journaled daily, as I do even now, putting together the chapters that would become The Secret Butterfly Trail. Learning how to create a website for myself and establish an online presence using social media was overwhelming. Once I was immersed in it, it became second nature and eventually turned into a website and social media business of my own. My writing style has changed over the years. I have learned to pull out all the stops and allow the raw, real, emotional writing to flow.
Why on earth would I want to pose nude for a group of photographers?
I'm not a psychologist or an authority on body image. I'm a 50-year-old woman who has suffered with anorexia and body dysmorphic disorder since I was 7 years old.
I've tried therapy and support groups over the past 15 years. Although they have helped tremendously and brought awareness about this disease, I seem to slip back into self-body-hatred periodically. Sometimes it lasts for a few days, sometimes a few months. The time period doesn't matter. What does matter is, even at my age I still struggle with my body. How many women do the same thing? Does it ever end?
For a lot of us, the disease begins in early childhood. For some, it happens in pre-pubescence when our young bodies are in a metamorphose stage from child to adult. The psychological damage done to girls is appalling, both as the result of media hype and the unrealistic expectations that society places on women, and through untreated childhood abuse - verbal, physical, emotional and sexual, to which I am no stranger on all counts.
I am living the dream, one day at a time, and sharing my experiences with you.
If you liked what you read today, you may make a contribution and support my writing. Much gratitude!
© 2016 ZUSHKA BIROS ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.