Dreams, 2016

I woke up from a dream a few weeks ago, a week ago, maybe. The dream consisted of my wedding day. But Matt wasn’t there. What a theme for my life, right?

No partner at the end of the aisle.

What a theme for my life, right?

I just kinda looked around when the preparation was done. But Matt just wasn’t there.

So here’s a lesson for my future hitched folks: don’t get so wrapped up in the wedding that you forget about your partner. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

The groomsmen and bridesmaids were dressed in olive green, different than what our wedding party wore in 2016. Any of our wedding party reading this, especially my bridal party, know I went a little overboard. More like a lot. A lot of them are not really my friends anymore. Typical.

My bridesmaids all wore matching lacy black dresses from David’s Bridal as well as a cream wrap that doubled as a scarf. And let’s not forget the crowns that we got at a dozen different Claire’s and hot glued different little flowers onto. And gems. Oh, and the Disney lockets with charms inside: rose gold or silver.

My dress was an Oleg Cassini, the same designer as my mom’s. It had pockets. It was the first dress I tried on, which is funny, because my wedding ring was the first one I tried on too. I wanted to add sleeves to my dress to cover my tattoos for the day and we had Ms. Kaye take fabric from my mom’s wedding dress and attach it to mine. Her skirt was actually my neckline. It was SUPER special. My mom is my ultimate best friend. As well as my nana, my dad, and my Uncle Tom; they are my family. I have friends that are family too. I have different tiers of family and different tiers of friends, different tiers of everything in my life. Organization and consistency are the way to a stable life for my brain. Communication. Communication. Communication. If you don’t talk to me, I think something’s wrong.

We walked the aisle to Disney songs. My dad had to hold me back from walking too fast down the aisle.

Marriage is more than a sheet of paper or a legally bound document. It means way more than the paper it’s written on. It’s a commitment to yourself, God, AND your spouse. And if children are involved, you’re committing to that, too, as you should. Love is a choice. A commitment. And a feeling. A hard one at that. It’s a choice not to run. It’s a choice to feel, sometimes not, though. We cannot control who we love. Sometimes, love chooses us.

When I walked into Cracker Barrel on March 14th, 2014, and I laid eyes on Matt for the first time, love chose me. Love at first sight at that.

When I took a chance on a woman I knew for years prior, a friend, that love chose me.

And I fell head first in both of these connections and I wouldn’t take it back. Risks are necessary and vital in life. Do you always want to be stagnant? Great comes from brave.

When I walked down the aisle, on Sunday, November 13th, 2016, I made a commitment to Matt and I chose to be his wife, his forever. I got to spend his forever with him. Why do I put forever in italics? Because when people say, “My forever wedding date!” Or… “My one and only husband.” Oh………. How do you know?

God had different plans for Anna.

Or, “I can’t wait for many more years.” Hmmm…. Me too. And one that’ll make me cringe is, “you have your whole life ahead of you, you’re still young.” Matt didn’t have his whole life ahead of him, now did he?

I’ve been through hell and back over my almost 26 years around the earth. More than anyone my age or anyone should have to endure. And there’s more underneath that onion shell than I’ve shared on this blog. And the blogs about loosing Matt are not as raw as I can and will be. Just wait, it’s coming. It will be hard to read. But, you’ll know through me. And hopefully never through personal experience what it’s like to be me everyday. Mentally and emotionally. And spiritually.

Over the past three rotations around the sun, since my dad knelt in front of me and told me Matt was gone, trauma has changed me. Which is normal, if you Google it.

I dated his best friend. I dated another widow. I discovered I like women. I came out. I lived on my own for the first time ever and am rocking it. I bought my first dog. I adopted another cat. I started my first blog and then this one. I fell in love for the second time, and it destroyed me. But I learned I can love like that again.

Not being unconditionally loved in return in three years has been an absolute struggle. My self worth has been tampered with, affected for sure. As my mom will tell you, I’ve always been in a relationship my whole life. But I haven’t been in a real one in what seems like forever. And I haven’t had that love, that attention to me. And to think about it is foreign.

Also, how do you know someone’s life through social media? How do you know why they post a bunch of selfies all the time? Why do you think a lot of people are convinced that the grass is greener on the other side? Or the land is better than the sea? A lot of people are miserable and hide it, just like I do.

I think I’ve always been a miserable person and have always had depression. I’ve just had distractions, something to look forward to. I look at pictures when I was younger and I can see the depression.

I relied on Matt for a lot of my happiness, as well as my best friend at the time. And that’s how I lost her. I did not understand the concept of self preservation or self grown happiness. “Happiness” is not a permanent thing. “I just want to be happy.” Actually, you want to be peaceful. Peace is a lot better than happy. Because “happy” can change at the drop of a mood-swing.

I have told one of my friends this until I’m blue in the face:

If one is not happy alone, one cannot be happy together.

Do they listen? No. Obviously not. And just because you’re married doesn’t mean you married the right person. Also, the “one” doesn’t exist. There’s a “one,” a “two, and the story rolls on. I’ve had my one and two and I’m fortunate to have had that, but neither one of them are by my side. One by choice and one without a choice. And it sucks.

Promise me this: do not wait until the “right” time. There is no “right” time. And if I hear this excuse one more time, I will scream, “I am working on myself right now.” Well okay, Karen, we all are, or should be. My therapist told me that you can work on yourself AND have a relationship. Huh, what a “foreign” concept. I roll my eyes so hard every time I hear one of these clowns say, “I just need to work on myself, I’m not ready.” No, you’re just clowning around. Don’t be a clown. Unless you’re ready to get called out on your bullsh*t.

Zolita sings, “Why wait if we could have forever?” What a life anthem.

Hope > fear, kittens. What gain do you have by waiting around? What do you have to lose? I don’t know about you, but I hate “what ifs.”

Take THE leaps,

A