Three days ago on April 26th, I lost the love of my life.
I lost him to drugs. His body is not dead. But the man I fell in love with is not there anymore. Well, he is. But the drugs and his depression have made him sink so low, he doesn't know how to love me anymore.
So I broke off our engagement. I told him I would take him back if he turned his life around... but it will take a long time. He has to get off the drugs. And even then... will he still love me?
It will take me a while before I can return to writing "The Many Meanings of Love". I just... can't right now. I cannot say when I will be ready to return to that subject, but right now it just hurts too much. Thank you for understanding.
Today is my nineteenth birthday, and I have never had a worse day. A day where by default I am supposed to be happy, but all I want to do is curl up and cry.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Sunday, April 21, 2013
The Many Meanings of Love (Part One)
I am dreaming Dear of you,
Day by day
Dreaming when the skies are blue,
When they're gray;
When the silv'ry moonlight gleams,
Still I wander on in dreams,
In a land of love, it seems, Just with you.
Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.
Let me hear you whisper that you love me too.
Keep the love-light glowing in your eyes so true.
Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.
Longing for you all the while,
More and more;
Longing for the sunny smile,
I adore;
Birds are singing far and near,
Roses blooming ev'rywhere
You, alone, my heart can cheer; You, just you.
Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.
Let me hear you whisper that you love me too.
Keep the love-light glowing in your eyes so true.
Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.
-Let Me Call You Sweetheart (1910)
Such a lovely song. I was doing some reading on old music (something I happen to adore), and I stumbled across this one. It wasn't the first time I had heard it; I had grown up watching Barney's Great Adventure, where the kid's grandfather sings an incredibly sweet a capella cover to their grandmother as she watches on adoringly.
A childish example of love, I suppose. But what it must be like to possess such a steadfast love, to last oh so many years! We yearn for it, we fight for it. But few these days ever find it. Why? I have often asked myself this question.
I was raised at home. Yes, I was homeschooled. My interpretation of the outside world is very different than most other people's because of how I learned and because of the different experiences I had. To pass the time when I was a child, I read books, and a lot of them. And it never stopped as I got older; in fact, I spent a great deal of time pouring through stacks of books that I would cart home from the local library every week.
My favorite genre was and is Historical Fiction. I would be willing to bet that over half of the books I have read in my lifetime have been Historical Fiction, so much of a love I had for those stories. I would become giddy reading about the lives of others living in eras that I could only dream of. I envied them, wishing I could join them and leave this world that I felt so out of place in. So many stories did I absorb and ponder that I found myself beginning to think the way they did. I had such a simple view of the world, one that I was surprised to discover could be applied to even today's ever changing world. One view that I developed from these books is the concept of Love, and what it really means.
Such a claim, one might say. No one knows what Love is, and I can definitely agree with that; I can't say I fully understand it. But I do know that Love is not to be trifled with. It is a serious thing, a happy thing. But there are certain guidelines and rules to love that I think that the world has forgotten, thus ruining their chances of finding that one thing everyone searches, in one way or another, their whole lives for.
In the song Let Me Call You Sweetheart, there is a special sort of simple whimsy about it. No strings, no notes of hardship, nothing to suggest that Love could ever even hurt, not even a promise of a wedding. All that it is, is a simple and sweet declaration of Love. And that's it. But such strength is hidden behind it! This person is bearing their heart to the one they love without any sort of fear. They are saying, I love you, and I am not afraid to say so because I love you.
Why is it, then, that today the concept or subject of Love is met with so much hesitation and fear? Why is it that less and less people are getting married, more and more people are divorcing, fewer people even want to fall in Love at all, and sacrificing for Love has become the endeavor of fools? Such a sad world it is when the driving force of mankind, something that we cannot help, is now met with so much scrutiny. I believe a lot of it has to do with fear, selfishness, and complicated lives. I will attempt to explain my viewpoint in the best manner I can; in order to do this, I feel that I will have to do this in two different posts, just to make sure I don't write something that is entirely too long.
1.) Selfishness
In today's society, it is encouraged for a person to look after Number One. Society says "Marriage? What is this, the 1920's?! You have your whole life ahead of you to be married! Drink! Party! And by golly, go to school and have a career! That's the only way you'll ever be happy; you don't wanna tie yourself down too soon, do you?"
People have allowed society to decide what is best for us. I mean, come on. How do they know what is going to make me happiest? Really, I believe it has more to do with what the upper 1% want for us; more money is made by people with careers than people with families, but that's another story. They have this picture perfect idea that appeals to a great deal of people. You get to have your cake and eat it too, so to speak. You can have your time to indulge in your little fantasies without any sort of regret, and later, after you've had your fun, THEN you can have a family, if you choose to have one, that is. If you don't follow this formula for a picture perfect life? Well, then you're some kind of nutjob that's going to end up flipping burgers at McDonalds, or, my personal favorite that's used on women on a regular basis, you'll end up dependent on a man for the rest of your life.
Now, correct me if I'm wrong... but isn't that the point of marriage? To be able to depend on someone for the rest of your life? And I am not just talking about women here, I am talking about men too. People need people, in some way, shape or form. The idea of being married is creating a union, that is, two people becoming a single unit, becoming one, if you will. A successful marriage depends on being needed, being nurtured, feeling safe, and depending on each other equally emotionally. Like I said, people need people. And marriage means you are with the person you need the most on this earth, to help you through the crap life has to throw at you. So that means that yes, a woman should be dependent on a man at some point, but only if he is equally as dependent on her.
But I don't see this happening. What I do see is this mindset in a lot of people, "How can I benefit from this?" For a lot of people, a major factor in the relationship is sexual attraction. We find each other sexy? Sweet! Let's go out! They get to know each other, maybe go out on a few dates, and then they sleep together. At this point, a lot of these mock "unions" break up and are never heard about again.
Sometimes they last and they stay together. They get into this phase where everything the other one does is cute, no matter how annoying it may be (anyone know "That Couple" that you just can't stand to be around because you can feel cavities starting to form in your teeth from all the mushy, lovey sweetness in the air?). They stay together a few years, and they find key points in the other's personality that they actually really like, and manage not to kill each other. So, they get married.
Problem is, at this point they learn what it really means to "honor and obey", and they really don't like it very much. She doesn't like his best friend or his buddies, he hates her "bestie" with a bloody passion and thinks she's the most annoying female on the planet, she hates when he goes to the bar, he hates it when she goes and gets another mani/pedi with her "gal pals" at the mall, and a whole lot of other things that they never really noticed before. They start to fight with each other. He may sleep out on the couch for the first time within the first two years. They give each other the cold shoulder for a day or two. Then they kiss, they make up, they have some amazing make up sex, and then they are fine for a while. But because of the circumstances the union started on, it is just the end of a never ending, viscous cycle that often ends in a bitter divorce.
Now, that is not to say that all marriages are like this; I have seen a few successful marriages that were formed in the aftermath of a one night stand. Every couple is different, so the success rates are different. But a lot of modern couples in their thirties tend to do this; you see it in the media all the time. Movies, TV shows, music, ect. All of it paints this picture that screams "Marriage sucks".
But what is the root of all of this selfishness that drives the modern individual? Why do men and women have such a hard time understanding one another, and why do so many marriages fail that could easily be fixed if this selfishness were to be absent? That leads me to my next contributing factor in the demise of the modern marriage-
2.) Fear
But, that is enough for now. I shall leave you, my readers, to digest these theories, and I shall post the next part of my little rant within the week, I promise.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Princess Aurora and Women's Roles, Feminism, and Bossiness
I love Walt Disney's Sleeping Beauty. I first saw it as a three year old child, and when I first heard Aurora sing, I said to myself that one day I'd sing just as beautifully. Ever since then, I have worked on my voice, training it to do what I want. At nineteen, I think I have made it pretty far; in the sixteen years I have been working on it, I think my voice has formed itself fairly well.
It shaped me into who I am. Even today, I try to model myself after Aurora even personality wise, because I believe that she is a very good role model for girls.
Some would disagree, saying that she teaches girls to be weak and dreamy. I ask you, what is wrong with that? Not all the time, but I think that, as a woman, every once in a while it's a good idea to stop and remember one's femininity. Dreaminess is a classic feminine trait, and not a bad one at that. Dreams are the result of a creative mind, and I can't remember when creativity was considered a bad thing.
I would hardly call Aurora weak. She is a victim of birth; born into royalty, a role not of her choosing. On her sixteenth birthday, she falls in love with a dashing young suitor, and is dismayed to find out on her returning home that she is betrothed to the prince of the next kingdom, automatically dashing her dreams of marrying her handsome stranger that she met Once Upon A Dream.
But does she protest? No! She has a good cry, then quietly follows her three Fairy Godmothers to the castle of her birth, awaiting an unwanted marriage to an unknown prince, barely used to the fact that life as she knew it was a lie, a scheme designed to protect her from her parents enemy, the fairy Maleficent, so that she could be married off in the name of a union between two kingdoms. And she does this because she knows that in order to keep peace, she must go quietly and create this union for the sake of her people.
Does this sound like a weak woman to you? Sure, she ends up with her dashing suitor in the end (He's actually Prince Phillip, her betrothed!), but what if she hadn't? What if she had been cursed to leave behind her true love all in the hopes that her people wouldn't be war torn? Some would say that she was only a political pawn and that she was forced to choose this fate. But, let's compare her to another Disney heroine who has been described by our Feminist society as a perfect example of girlhood, and is placed in a similar situation.
Princess Merida from the Disney/Pixar film Brave is a feisty headstrong lass from 10th century Scotland. She has been raised her entire life to be a princess by her mother, Queen Eleanor, but wishes to be free and choose her own fate. When faced with the inevitable fact that she must choose a husband, she violently protests, choosing to risk her family's reputation and possibly her entire kingdom simply because she doesn't want to get married. She even confirms this in the paralleled scene between her and her mother as she's cleaning her horse's stable, having an imaginary conversation where she says:
"You could just say 'The princess is not ready to get married, and she might not ever be
ready, soooo thank you for coming, but we're cancelling; we can expect your declarations
of war in the morning.'"
Or something like that. Nonetheless, you can definitely see the differences between the two princesses; while Princess Aurora's main concerns are the fates of her people, Princess Merida's concern is with only one person: herself.
That is not to say that Merida is a bad person in the slightest; she obviously has a mind of her own and chooses to spend her time with the things she likes to do rather than princessy things, and she is no weakling either. In the end, she is willing to sacrifice herself to marriage in order to prevent war, but is saved by her mother, who insists that Merida and the princes of the other clans should be allowed to choose their own fates and fall in love in their own time.
What I am saying is that society has a very interesting view on what they believe the ideal woman is. Obviously times have changed and that is why the characters are so different, for Sleeping Beauty was released in 1959, and Brave was released in 2012. But is progress always positive?
If anything, I think that Merida hints at a very underlying theme in today's society: the unwillingness to make sacrifices. We've gotten so caught up in ourselves as a society, that the younger generations are becoming more and more selfish as time goes on. Little girls are getting bossier, taking examples from the growing levels of spunk present in the characters of the shows that are broadcast for their amusement, being told by their mothers that being bossy means having good leadership skills, and that there is nothing wrong with it.
Now, I don't know about you, but I have to say that when I think bossiness, I think "rude". Plain and simple. Bossiness is a pushy, insistent, gloating way of getting people to do what you want. I can guarantee you that if you take that kind of attitude into a workplace, you'll be packing up your desk within a year. Because let's face it: no one likes getting bossed around; we make this clear in our preschool and kindergarten days when we stick our tongues out at the one person in the class who fancies themselves the classroom police officer, saying "You're not the boss of me!". It's the same way in the work place, only now instead of raspberries and a verbal protest, you get reported by your peers to your boss and possibly lose your job over it.
Some people manage to be pretty successful being bossy financially, but do you hear good things about them as a person? Probably not. Those kinds of people have labels like "bitch" and "douchebag" attached to their names, and most likely don't have many friends; if they do, they are usually just as bossy as they are.
I guess the point I am trying to make is that I think women have gotten a little out of hand as of late; as you will find as this blog goes on, I am not a fan of Feminism. I believe that as a gender we have not changed for the better; women think being strong is being rude and mean, especially toward their male peers. The days of the soft but well spoken woman are over, and a new breed of griping, nagging magpies have taken over. Honestly? I say that today's women should be more like Queen Eleanor, who I view as a good balance between Merida and Aurora. Headstrong, confident, and passionate, but soft, feminine, and graceful at the same time. And above all, unselfish. That, I believe is a perfect example of what modern day womanhood should look like.
In the end, I choose to be like Aurora. Because there is still a part of me that still believes in grace, beauty, softspokenness, and old fashioned dreaminess.
It shaped me into who I am. Even today, I try to model myself after Aurora even personality wise, because I believe that she is a very good role model for girls.
Some would disagree, saying that she teaches girls to be weak and dreamy. I ask you, what is wrong with that? Not all the time, but I think that, as a woman, every once in a while it's a good idea to stop and remember one's femininity. Dreaminess is a classic feminine trait, and not a bad one at that. Dreams are the result of a creative mind, and I can't remember when creativity was considered a bad thing.
I would hardly call Aurora weak. She is a victim of birth; born into royalty, a role not of her choosing. On her sixteenth birthday, she falls in love with a dashing young suitor, and is dismayed to find out on her returning home that she is betrothed to the prince of the next kingdom, automatically dashing her dreams of marrying her handsome stranger that she met Once Upon A Dream.
But does she protest? No! She has a good cry, then quietly follows her three Fairy Godmothers to the castle of her birth, awaiting an unwanted marriage to an unknown prince, barely used to the fact that life as she knew it was a lie, a scheme designed to protect her from her parents enemy, the fairy Maleficent, so that she could be married off in the name of a union between two kingdoms. And she does this because she knows that in order to keep peace, she must go quietly and create this union for the sake of her people.
Does this sound like a weak woman to you? Sure, she ends up with her dashing suitor in the end (He's actually Prince Phillip, her betrothed!), but what if she hadn't? What if she had been cursed to leave behind her true love all in the hopes that her people wouldn't be war torn? Some would say that she was only a political pawn and that she was forced to choose this fate. But, let's compare her to another Disney heroine who has been described by our Feminist society as a perfect example of girlhood, and is placed in a similar situation.
Princess Merida from the Disney/Pixar film Brave is a feisty headstrong lass from 10th century Scotland. She has been raised her entire life to be a princess by her mother, Queen Eleanor, but wishes to be free and choose her own fate. When faced with the inevitable fact that she must choose a husband, she violently protests, choosing to risk her family's reputation and possibly her entire kingdom simply because she doesn't want to get married. She even confirms this in the paralleled scene between her and her mother as she's cleaning her horse's stable, having an imaginary conversation where she says:
"You could just say 'The princess is not ready to get married, and she might not ever be
ready, soooo thank you for coming, but we're cancelling; we can expect your declarations
of war in the morning.'"
Or something like that. Nonetheless, you can definitely see the differences between the two princesses; while Princess Aurora's main concerns are the fates of her people, Princess Merida's concern is with only one person: herself.
That is not to say that Merida is a bad person in the slightest; she obviously has a mind of her own and chooses to spend her time with the things she likes to do rather than princessy things, and she is no weakling either. In the end, she is willing to sacrifice herself to marriage in order to prevent war, but is saved by her mother, who insists that Merida and the princes of the other clans should be allowed to choose their own fates and fall in love in their own time.
What I am saying is that society has a very interesting view on what they believe the ideal woman is. Obviously times have changed and that is why the characters are so different, for Sleeping Beauty was released in 1959, and Brave was released in 2012. But is progress always positive?
If anything, I think that Merida hints at a very underlying theme in today's society: the unwillingness to make sacrifices. We've gotten so caught up in ourselves as a society, that the younger generations are becoming more and more selfish as time goes on. Little girls are getting bossier, taking examples from the growing levels of spunk present in the characters of the shows that are broadcast for their amusement, being told by their mothers that being bossy means having good leadership skills, and that there is nothing wrong with it.
Now, I don't know about you, but I have to say that when I think bossiness, I think "rude". Plain and simple. Bossiness is a pushy, insistent, gloating way of getting people to do what you want. I can guarantee you that if you take that kind of attitude into a workplace, you'll be packing up your desk within a year. Because let's face it: no one likes getting bossed around; we make this clear in our preschool and kindergarten days when we stick our tongues out at the one person in the class who fancies themselves the classroom police officer, saying "You're not the boss of me!". It's the same way in the work place, only now instead of raspberries and a verbal protest, you get reported by your peers to your boss and possibly lose your job over it.
Some people manage to be pretty successful being bossy financially, but do you hear good things about them as a person? Probably not. Those kinds of people have labels like "bitch" and "douchebag" attached to their names, and most likely don't have many friends; if they do, they are usually just as bossy as they are.
I guess the point I am trying to make is that I think women have gotten a little out of hand as of late; as you will find as this blog goes on, I am not a fan of Feminism. I believe that as a gender we have not changed for the better; women think being strong is being rude and mean, especially toward their male peers. The days of the soft but well spoken woman are over, and a new breed of griping, nagging magpies have taken over. Honestly? I say that today's women should be more like Queen Eleanor, who I view as a good balance between Merida and Aurora. Headstrong, confident, and passionate, but soft, feminine, and graceful at the same time. And above all, unselfish. That, I believe is a perfect example of what modern day womanhood should look like.
In the end, I choose to be like Aurora. Because there is still a part of me that still believes in grace, beauty, softspokenness, and old fashioned dreaminess.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
The Beginning
Hi, my name is Ann.
You know, I never really looked much into that phrase until recently. It seemed so simple, giving someone a name to place with the face. Just something for them to say to get your attention, or to write in a birthday card, or to put on a tombstone the day you die.
Names, as much as I have always heard that they do, never held much meaning to me beyond just a jumble of letters that happened to sound good. It was just a label, and my label was one I was none too pleased with.
My full name is AnnMarie. AnnMarie! How old fashioned can you get with that? I mean, don't get me wrong, I am somewhat old fashioned as you'll find as I delve deeper into this blog. But I always thought I would be better suited with a more ethnic name like Carmen or old fashioned names like Evelyn, Victoria, Jeanette, or Eleanor. But not AnnMarie.
I don't really look like an AnnMarie. Most people say that they would place the name AnnMarie with a blonde, green eyed faerie of a girl, short and petite. And anyone who knows me knows that I am no where close to fitting that description. I am tall, 5'9" to be exact. I have a stocky frame, reminiscent of a little French horse. I have small hands, small feet, long legs, long torso. My eyes are big and brown, my nose is a little too small for my taste, pale olive skin, Cupid's bow lips on the top and bottom. I have long, chocolate brown hair and highlights, and it's curly because I decided to perm it over the winter. My features are a mixture of Native American, Mexican, and Italian, with strong Anglo-Saxon notes.
In other words, I'm a mutt. There is a long list of the nationalities I can claim:
Mexican
Spanish
Native American
British
Welsh
German
Polish
Scottish
Irish
Italian
Sicilian
Swedish
Norwegian
And I can't even name them all. Like, for serious. I can't even remember the whole list. You'd think by having so diverse a gene pool I'd look a little more ethnically neutral, especially since I have all of that White in me. But nope. I almost look like a Mexican vampire, my skin is so pale.
AnnMarie is the only name I can claim, save my last name. My parents decided to leave out a middle name for whatever reason, so I have to pack a lot of personality into one name. Which is a hard job, believe me. I hate to think of what it's gonna be like if I make it in the music business. I can't imagine having AnnMarie as a stage name; most people with not so glamorous names use their middle names as a stage name, but I got cheated out of that option. Ah well. I'll roll with the punches and cross that bridge when it slaps me in the face.
I will admit, I am not new to blogging. I started writing another blog called The Chronicles of Aminathius about two years ago, and I meant for it to be just a for fun thing writing from the perspective of a character with a witty, sarcastic demeanor. Which I guess was what I was back then. I was alternative, angsty, and everything a teenager should be.
Now, at nineteen (or almost nineteen), I feel like my life has changed. The world still seems dark, but I am trying to find the light. And in doing so, I have discovered me. Hence why names mean so much more to me now. In saying "Hello, my name is", you are giving someone entrance into your soul, a first look at what is to come. You are placing yourself in their head, giving them something new to think about. In a way, you gain a certain level of power over them. And now when I say "Hello, my name is Ann", it is a much bigger deal, the beginning of a connection between two human beings.
I hope through this blog I can learn something about myself, and I hope that, just maybe, you can learn a little something about yourself, too.
You know, I never really looked much into that phrase until recently. It seemed so simple, giving someone a name to place with the face. Just something for them to say to get your attention, or to write in a birthday card, or to put on a tombstone the day you die.
Names, as much as I have always heard that they do, never held much meaning to me beyond just a jumble of letters that happened to sound good. It was just a label, and my label was one I was none too pleased with.
My full name is AnnMarie. AnnMarie! How old fashioned can you get with that? I mean, don't get me wrong, I am somewhat old fashioned as you'll find as I delve deeper into this blog. But I always thought I would be better suited with a more ethnic name like Carmen or old fashioned names like Evelyn, Victoria, Jeanette, or Eleanor. But not AnnMarie.
I don't really look like an AnnMarie. Most people say that they would place the name AnnMarie with a blonde, green eyed faerie of a girl, short and petite. And anyone who knows me knows that I am no where close to fitting that description. I am tall, 5'9" to be exact. I have a stocky frame, reminiscent of a little French horse. I have small hands, small feet, long legs, long torso. My eyes are big and brown, my nose is a little too small for my taste, pale olive skin, Cupid's bow lips on the top and bottom. I have long, chocolate brown hair and highlights, and it's curly because I decided to perm it over the winter. My features are a mixture of Native American, Mexican, and Italian, with strong Anglo-Saxon notes.
In other words, I'm a mutt. There is a long list of the nationalities I can claim:
Mexican
Spanish
Native American
British
Welsh
German
Polish
Scottish
Irish
Italian
Sicilian
Swedish
Norwegian
And I can't even name them all. Like, for serious. I can't even remember the whole list. You'd think by having so diverse a gene pool I'd look a little more ethnically neutral, especially since I have all of that White in me. But nope. I almost look like a Mexican vampire, my skin is so pale.
AnnMarie is the only name I can claim, save my last name. My parents decided to leave out a middle name for whatever reason, so I have to pack a lot of personality into one name. Which is a hard job, believe me. I hate to think of what it's gonna be like if I make it in the music business. I can't imagine having AnnMarie as a stage name; most people with not so glamorous names use their middle names as a stage name, but I got cheated out of that option. Ah well. I'll roll with the punches and cross that bridge when it slaps me in the face.
I will admit, I am not new to blogging. I started writing another blog called The Chronicles of Aminathius about two years ago, and I meant for it to be just a for fun thing writing from the perspective of a character with a witty, sarcastic demeanor. Which I guess was what I was back then. I was alternative, angsty, and everything a teenager should be.
Now, at nineteen (or almost nineteen), I feel like my life has changed. The world still seems dark, but I am trying to find the light. And in doing so, I have discovered me. Hence why names mean so much more to me now. In saying "Hello, my name is", you are giving someone entrance into your soul, a first look at what is to come. You are placing yourself in their head, giving them something new to think about. In a way, you gain a certain level of power over them. And now when I say "Hello, my name is Ann", it is a much bigger deal, the beginning of a connection between two human beings.
I hope through this blog I can learn something about myself, and I hope that, just maybe, you can learn a little something about yourself, too.
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