The joy of surrender
Gloria Steinem said, “The truth shall set you free, but first it will piss you off.”
We all pretty much have a Calvinist streak in us. Work hard and it will happen. What about destiny? Fate? And all the encouraging quotes that come from self-possessed peace leaders? There’s something to be said that life is not all about refining the patina of perfection over and over again.
My mother dropped her successful career as a politician to spend more time with my father. My father is now slipping into his 80s and my mother has suspended all other social activities to take my dad to his dialysis treatments and accompany him to lunch and dinner in places deemed sanitary and comfortably familiar. All of those who know her agree that she is a saint as a wife. She worked hard to be a good wife and she passed with fantastic results.
On the other hand, I have managed to scare two matinee idols with what my good friends call my commanding personality. I don’t know how to flirt, instead I drop inappropriate jokes and giggle nervously of unbefitting times like funerals. I’m still fragile and vulnerable. I’ve just started working full-time again. I’m reeling from three breakups, which I never properly grieved for. My father’s health is challenged. Another rebound is too much to handle for now. As tempting as the thought of companionship and hearing the ticking of a heart as I lie on the chest of a boyfriend while watching TV, it’s just better to salivate than indulge. It separates man from animal. I’ve come to realize that staying out of a relationship is as hard as staying in one.
It’s strange, for guys I don’t really like, I pretty much lay it on thick, to the point that I give them sneakers so they can run, with skid marks and all. The ones I have a great potential to actually like, I ice out. Like how one can be when trying to get out of a dying relationship, the same self-sabotaging behavior is found in killing love zygotes.
My friend, on the other hand, had just come out from a brief but painful affair. In some strange twist of fate, he came out of it believing more fervently that true love was just around the corner. He actively asked friends and acquaintances to set him up with their friends. He was open and hopeful. Only a breakup so bad could ricochet my friend to that enviable blazing state of optimism.
I admired him, but for me I just chose to surrender. The thought of opening myself up to dating, with its infamous ups and downs was just too overwhelming. A month ago after trying to get through a conversation with some Italian guy who barely spoke English, I told myself, “Enough.”
I told my friend Erwin Romulo over dinner that I’ve learned to take both avidity and its evil twin, rejection, in stride. I’ve just learned to let go. We are fed with well-meaning words of encouragement. When someone dies you may hear “it will get better” (it doesn’t). When you are in a love jungle, an owlish friend may plead caution and suggest to “keep it simple” (what for? I don’t want to be bored). When any panoptic dilemma comes up, you will always hear “keep on going.”
The thing is, you don’t have to. You can shut the shades and cry hysterically and properly grieve for a loved one or a painful parting. I believe it is braver to give in to the sadness and embrace the more salient human experience of loss. Why do we break out the champagne for the happy times and hide in shame when we are experiencing a trouncing? It doesn’t always have to be okay.
The love you get from your family and friends, the wisdom that you gain over the years and the heart that breaks and mends itself are all part of your truth. No one can take those away from you. Experiences, on the other hand, can change you for a bit. You can suddenly become withdrawn. You can suddenly become happy but in a manic and chilling way. You can make some crazy decisions that you would have never made if you were at your baseline.
We all try too hard because failing in these clinical times is just frowned upon. We pother within ourselves over the lack of perfection and gloss what’s expected from us by the Twitter generation. We all find the need for self-validation in 140 characters or less.
Sometimes, it’s okay to kick back and finish a vat of M&Ms. Lament, have a bit of a pity party and stare at the crack on the wall. I did this a few months ago, and my current happy and content state owes itself to my days of being bummed out that things sucked.
As the saying goes in the beginning of this essay, the truth at first will really piss you off. Then it just fits itself in your colorful life filled with inconvenient love affairs, career challenges and just the normal ennui found naturally in the discontented nature of human beings.
It’s really going to be okay. That’s the truth.
