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As passionate as I am in arguments, or my work, or just about anything, I rarely share what I really feel inside. Few people get past the face I put on for the world, and I don't disagree that it's not my fault. I'll rarely talk about it, but luckily, I will write about it. Writing has always been an outlet of mine, even if the words never really got to the page. (Long story, ask me about it if you're truly interested).
Something happened yesterday that just touched me beyond words. I joined a gym back in July of last year, and then promptly had the Detroit-travel bomb dropped on me. Davin (club owner) has been great about working with me so that I could do what I needed to do while still being able to fulfill my contractual obligations to the club. He got my membership "suspended" so that while I was out of town I wasn't getting charged, and yet he still allowed me to come into the club whenever I was in town to meet with my trainer.
My trainer is Rick David, who I just found out is "Mr. December" in this year's "A Cut Above" calendar, which raises money for the Special Olympics. I hadn't realized how long it had been since I had been to the club until I walked in yesterday. (My membership had been suspended in November and December, and well, I've been lazy). Davin and Rick were both there, and the first thing Rick did was ask for hug, and so did Davin.
Hugs. From people I don't really know that well. It was all I could do not to cry. Those little bits of affection mean so much to me. You have to understand, I wasn't shown any affection as a child. My parents did not hug or kiss me, they did not hug or kiss each other, or even hold hands. They did not tell me that they loved me. My father shared with me that in 56 years of marriage, my mother never told him that she loved him until 3 weeks before she passed away. Luckily, for my father and myself, our relationship has changed now that she's gone, and I do finally feel loved.
When I got older, I substituted sex for affection. I won't make any excuses about it. I knew what I was doing, I knew that it was self-destructive, but I did it anyway, because I thought it was the only way I could become close to someone. Yes, there are times that I wish I could go back and undo a lot of my life, but that's not really the same as regret. I can't regret the things that I have done, because they have made me the person that I am today, and I'm OK with that person.
I've always been good at giving hugs when other people need them, but I've never been very good at asking for a hug when I need one. I guess that's the bottom line in this post. I don't really expect a lot from my friends, but I could use a lot more hugs - it just makes the world feel less awful.
Ciao for now.
Something happened yesterday that just touched me beyond words. I joined a gym back in July of last year, and then promptly had the Detroit-travel bomb dropped on me. Davin (club owner) has been great about working with me so that I could do what I needed to do while still being able to fulfill my contractual obligations to the club. He got my membership "suspended" so that while I was out of town I wasn't getting charged, and yet he still allowed me to come into the club whenever I was in town to meet with my trainer.
My trainer is Rick David, who I just found out is "Mr. December" in this year's "A Cut Above" calendar, which raises money for the Special Olympics. I hadn't realized how long it had been since I had been to the club until I walked in yesterday. (My membership had been suspended in November and December, and well, I've been lazy). Davin and Rick were both there, and the first thing Rick did was ask for hug, and so did Davin.
Hugs. From people I don't really know that well. It was all I could do not to cry. Those little bits of affection mean so much to me. You have to understand, I wasn't shown any affection as a child. My parents did not hug or kiss me, they did not hug or kiss each other, or even hold hands. They did not tell me that they loved me. My father shared with me that in 56 years of marriage, my mother never told him that she loved him until 3 weeks before she passed away. Luckily, for my father and myself, our relationship has changed now that she's gone, and I do finally feel loved.
When I got older, I substituted sex for affection. I won't make any excuses about it. I knew what I was doing, I knew that it was self-destructive, but I did it anyway, because I thought it was the only way I could become close to someone. Yes, there are times that I wish I could go back and undo a lot of my life, but that's not really the same as regret. I can't regret the things that I have done, because they have made me the person that I am today, and I'm OK with that person.
I've always been good at giving hugs when other people need them, but I've never been very good at asking for a hug when I need one. I guess that's the bottom line in this post. I don't really expect a lot from my friends, but I could use a lot more hugs - it just makes the world feel less awful.
Ciao for now.
