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Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Differences... Night and Day...

How much clearer can it be that men and women are from different planets? Or is it just as simple as we deal with our emotions differently?

I woke up this morning feeling very melancholic. Many things can trigger sadness in me and one constant thing is separation anxiety. With time, I have developed this panic of seeing people travel, or fear of them being away from me. When I say people, I’m speaking primarily of my husband and children… I can be at peace if I’m the one traveling away from them, because they are left together but uneasiness submerges me when I’m left behind. I hate to see them go, especially if they are alone on their travels…  Again the what if…
So last night I fought my husband (figuratively), trying to find all the reasons in the world for him not to purchase a plane ticket he needed. He has to fly back home for his uncle’s funeral. My crazy list of imaginary reasons included; too expensive, bad itinerary, too last minute, what about work and my favorite, “You’re going to miss Mother’s Day”… But logic took over and we got the ticket. I closed my laptop, closed my eyes and went to sleep.

This morning I’m sad; sad that what I know to be my safety (comfort zone) and routine is about to change, even for a split second, and I have no hand in making sure that it will be reestablished.
Where is my self control? Why do I let inexistent struggles find their way into my mind, keeping me away from bliss?
I got my self together (why always fight or worry about the dubious?), dropped my baby girl to school and went off to work…

Of course at this point, the inevitable happens. It seems like whenever you are feeling unsorted, the music that plays on the radio is (nothing but) sad songs, just to help my mood.

I was about 5 minutes away from my store downtown, when I stopped like everyone else at the red light. From a far, I see this man knocking on windows and showing his hat for money to be tossed in. I saw him making his way towards me and by reflex, I made sure that my doors were locked. His face was black, dry with creases that looked painful and covered with scars that told a story of hard and aching times. He knocked on my windows. His hands, where all fingers were severed from the joints, begged for my attention. He scared me, but I smiled, and through the window I let him know that I didn’t have anything to give. He smiled, made some clumsy dance steps and blew an awkward kiss at me, again waiting for a gesture from me. Although he made me smile, I still apologized with my eyes.
He turned around and walked on to the next car and I felt breathless. I looked at him through the side mirror and tears started to flow down my checks uncontrollably. As I write this, 5 hours later, I still can’t explain the feeling that took over me … it wasn’t pity, it wasn’t just sadness… I was compelled to not just leave, to just not give and to disregard wasn’t an option. My body wasn’t letting me, in those few seconds my soul wasn’t allowing it… I was literally overwhelmed by this feeling I didn’t understand.
I felt pain, sadness and everything felt wrong… I couldn’t breath; I couldn’t stop the tears…
To those that know me, they know I never have cash on me… I did today
The light turned green.  Through my tears, I called for him. While reaching for my wallet, he came “running”, I handed him money that he needed and sped off.
The last minutes of my ride to work gave me the opportunity to pull myself back together without understanding.

The hubby called and I share with him what had just happened to me, and his answer to me was 
“You need to go see a doctor! You need to address the fact that if me or the babies are off to somewhere without you, you are able to handle it and not breakdown to the point you feel like giving away all your money to homeless on the street”.
How it is those two separate situations I’m going through became attached to the one another? How is it being emotional means that I need therapy?
I understand that unlike him, my emotions are present. They are unavoidable, as far as expressing them and letting them be known. I can’t push them aside, while he can acknowledge them and push them aside to be dealt later… if need be.

Is it a sign of weakness to display your emotions? Is there supposed to be a time and place for that? Are you supposed to take the genuine out of the emotion and leave it calculated and totally manageable? Are we supposed to fear that what is expressed for the world to see, can be measured and you can be judged against it, while if not shared, no one can see the degree to which you’ve been affected?

 As I stated in the beginning, men and women are different. While we all have legitimate feelings and pain, the way that we show and express our emotion is very different. How many men do you know, that will end up in tears over a homeless man asking for change? How many men do you know that will loose their breath and practically break down, when their families leave them home alone? And this is not to say that there aren't emotional men, because Lord knows, there definitely are. This is to say that conventional wisdom states, traditional women are (in general), a little more “tender” (emotional wise) than most men. Does that make me weak? No! Does that give me an advantage? Maybe…. I’m okay with my husband thinking I need help, as long as he knows it’s all in love.

It’s not even that I think we (women) are so much more emotional than men. I do believe that the way we express out emotions, is night and day. We’re taught (as women) to be open and transparent, while our counterparts are raised to be impenetrable brick walls. So to an extent, it all makes sense. What are your thoughts?

To love filled with emotions...

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