I’ve loved to draw and create ever since I was a small child and even entertained the idea of being a professional artist after highschool (watch for future post “regrettable career move”). So visual arts was my first love. Followed by music which inspires and surrounds me every day (although I am not musically gifted, unless it’s karaoke and wine… then just try to take that microphone out of my hand). Last but not least, I appreciate being entertained by talented actors, comedians and dancers. Clowns and mimes, not so much, sorry.
I attended Swan Lake when I was in grade school; I believe that was the first professional “grown-up” performance I had attended (other than Disney on Ice which I don’t count as an adult show). The first major theatrical performance I attended as an adult was The Phantom of the Opera in Toronto, about a year after I had moved to the city. There was Drama with a capital D around that performance, and I’m not referring to inside the theatre!
My then-boyfriend (I’ll call him Mr. Nice Guy) and I thought it would be a great idea to see the show on Valentines Day 1990 so we booked tickets months in advance. The show was in it’s first year in Toronto (it had a 10-year run here). Speaking of first year, Mr. Nice Guy and I had been dating in Vancouver about 7 months when I was hired as a flight attendant, completed my 7 weeks of training and then learned the (sad) news that I would be based in Toronto. I was so disappointed as I loved Vancouver. I loved Mr. Nice Guy too, I suppose, in the way that 25-year-olds who’ve been dating less than a year love each other. But Vancouver was my real love. I had moved there just 18 months earlier from landlocked Edmonton, settled in nicely and was enjoying my newfound independence and social connections. Now here I was being uprooted against my pleasure and being sent away from the majestic mountains and Pacific Ocean to the Gardiner Expressway overlooking Lake Ontario with the CN Tower piercing the skyline. Oh joy.
Before we jump ahead to the Opera, let’s examine the details of my life in Toronto at that time, shall we? I was 25-years old, in a new and exciting career that jetted me across Canada and around the world to exciting destinations. I was young, attractive and single (not married but in a long distance relationship). My four roommates were also young, attractive and single flight attendants. Mr. Nice Guy, my boyfriend of less than a year, lived on the West Coast — a 5-hour flight and 3 time zones away. We managed to see each other about one weekend a month. So the relationship was surviving (not thriving mind you, but it was being given attention). Things were very exciting at this time of my life. My mid-20s was spent flying on jets as much as most people take the subway. I had always dreamed of being a flight attendant so I could travel the world in style, and my dream was now a reality. (In hindsight, Law of Attraction was working although I was unaware of the universal laws then.) Are you beginning to see where this story is heading?
Now it’s Autumn 1989 and our theatre tickets are waiting for February 1990 to arrive. Anyone who has lived through their ’20s will tell you that a few months can be a long time to wait and a lot can happen in that time (this is called foreshadowing for those who skipped English class).
I’ve neglected to mention that a previous boyfriend with whom I had a brief but passionate affair after we met in 1987 on a BC Ferry enroute to Nanaimo was living in Toronto. I will clarify it wasn’t a cheating kind of affair, I was single at the time and it wasn’t brief like you may be thinking… we had a relationship for many months. I don’t know which Voice in My Head decided this would be a good idea (rarely as women, can we understand or admit to these sorts of things until we are in our ’40s writing in a blog for the world to read), but in October 1989 it was coming up to his birthday, so I decided to call to wish him a Happy Birthday. Probably wasn’t a wise idea. He is a Scorpio… no need to expand on that for those of you who follow astrology.
Around December, I found myself writing a Dear Mr. Nice Guy letter (followed by a visit to him), suggesting our long distance romance was not being fully realized and it was time to take a break. He agreed (okay, I might have left out a few important details with him… this is known in our culture as “little white lie” or “partial truth”). As noted in my manifesto, you can’t outrun the Truth. It seems like you get a pretty good head start and when you think you’ve gotten away with it, Truth finds you! Sooner or later, it always does. Things seemed fine and Mr.Nice Guy and I parted amicably (vowing to keep in touch as friends, of course). By February, the Phantom of the Opera tickets were demanding their rightful owner. Since I was resident in the city, I made some assumptions about now owning those tickets. (Remember the TV show The Odd Couple? Felix said, “when you assume, you make an ASS of U and ME. I’ve always remembered that.) As friends, Mr. Nice Guy thought he would fly in and we would attend together as originally planned. Oops… a hard lesson for me in not being 100% truthful months earlier. The show was on or near Valentines’ Day… how would I explain attending the show with an ex-boyfriend-now-friend when Mr. Scorpio expected to attend this romantic evening at the theatre with me? Truth had emerged and I had some ’splaining to do with both gentlemen.
I am not very proud of how I conducted myself in those relationships at that time in my life, not properly ending one before starting, or resuming, the other and mostly for telling a half-truth, which we know does not exist — there can be only Truth or… lies (ugh, such a harsh word). I have a letter from Mr. Nice Guy written after our last conversation; every 10 years I’ll come across it and it gives me a hard reminder of how delicate the heart is and that all hearts need to be treated with care. So in my 26th year, I lost a friend.
How was the Opera, you may be wondering? With all the drama and heartache going on outside the theatre, I attended the evening as planned to watch the drama and heartache unfold inside the beautiful Pantages Theatre. At the end of the performance, I turned to my girlfriend in the seat beside me and said, “what a beautiful but tragic love story.”
CHALLENGE TO YOU: Think of a time in your life where you weren’t 100% truthful with someone and it caused heartache.
OPEN YOUR HEART: Write a letter to that person from your point of view with what you know now and apologize from the bottom of your heart. Accept all responsiblity. You don’t have to send it, but write it… feel it… and then tear it up. The Universe will know you’ve made amends.
QUOTE FOR YOUR SCRAPBOOK: “When a woman tells the truth she is creating the possibility for more truth around her.” ~ Adrienne Rich
Scrapbooks for the Soul
Hey Brenda,
It’s the same thing; only different!
That’s the first thing I thought when I read this. The names, places, dates, situations and outcomes are different, but the song remains the same. Your post got me thinking, “How many times have I been an actor in this type of drama?”
Having walked in those shoes, (without the 4 inch heels of course) I started wondering, “What else is hiding under these bittersweet memories?”
While I was ‘on stage’ in my dramas, I convinced myself that revealing hand picked parts of the story was less painful for the others. I did not want to be the boogey-man. But the simple truth is, I was afraid and I let fear rule my decisions.
There was the fear that I would hurt two other beings. Fear that I would lose love. Fear that I would fall from my elevated position as someone just a little more special. Fear that they would find out I was capable of misrepresenting myself and how things really were. It’s funny how in the end, when the truth caught up with us, that the focus of my fears was all that was left.
I felt shame and was too embarrassed to ‘come clean’. I was desperately holding onto the ‘image’ I saw in their eyes.
What’s clear now is that, of the three of us, I created a lot more pain for myself than I did for them. I heard more ‘white lies & half truths’ than they did. They were hurt by ‘my story’ once. But I had to write my lines, rehearse my part and then play it for them twice.
One of my mentors has a saying on a wall in his office. It says, “Denial is not a river in Egypt”. I had to swallow heaping portions of the big ‘D’ to do the things I did. It was all for appearance, image and illusion. How foolish of me; kidding myself into thinking I acted from Love.
I guess I have some more writing to do. It’s been awhile since I wrote a real letter. I know I have some paper and pen around here somewhere…
Many Blessings ~ Namaste
I Love You,
The Elusive Mr. “X”
We are each actors in our own story… we’re also the producers and the writers so we have all the power to choose how the story of our life plays out. You’re very wise and have much to share with the world, Mr. X. We could have “dueling” blogs!
Anyone else up to sharing their lessons? I write to learn as much from you as I humbly hope you may learn from me. Namaste
I have a doozie of a story regarding lying to myself. I led a beautiful woman to the altar knowing that she was not the one for me. You can fill in a lot of the details without me writing them here. I’m sure there are at least a couple movies with this or a similar story line.
Not being true to myself is where the problem began. I could not be true to her (and break her heart) because I didn’t admit the truth to myself. Turns out I added public humiliation to the broken hearts because I didn’t have the courage at the right time to admit what was true for me.
The good news is that we’re both still friends, not like we’re still visiting each other’s family for Thanksgiving, but we were able to be responsible for the story we created to ourselves and to the people we cared about.
ouch! Unfortunately I believe the “at the altar” situation is more common than one might think. Fortunately for me, these sorts of errors were made long before I was ready to make the trip down the aisle. We often allow cultural and societal pressures to push us into situations where we feel we have no choice but to go forward into something we know is not in our best interest. Possibly why there is such a high divorce rate in North America? Important to remember we always have a choice in every moment. Might not be the easy choice, but we always have that freedom.
Good Day, Brenda.
I have a good feeling Mr. Nice Guy is pretty forgiving, and I would imagine he’d be pretty flattered and humbled that he has made an impact in your life that you would revisit his written word.
I would also wager Mr. Nice Guy is a better fella for having been with you during that period of your lives, and would feel awful thinking you had lost a friend. Don’t you?
I do , but who am to say???
C.B. in YVR
You’re very wise. I agree with your sentiments and thank you for reminding me of the value that all relationships play in our lives. Lessons learned, all around.
blessings…
B