Balance

I haven't had vivid dreams in a while. Things are pretty tame in my life, so my dreams tend to match. But I had a pretty lively one last night. In it, my son's father and I were getting along quite well. So well, it genuinely surprised me. In the dream, I recall saying that I'd have to work out in therapy how to actually like my ex as a person, because I'd started detesting him so much, and he was so nice now, that I would miss my actual hatred for him. But then, the dream, he said the one thing that would set me off (which is par for the course with him) and I wailed on his ass right there. I woke up shortly after.

Like any typical Thursday for the last few months, I woke up this morning and dreaded going to see my trainer. Even though I've seen the benefits and observed my clothes fitting loser, yeah, I still hate it. On a good note, I've gotten to be pretty close with my trainer, and he loves to hear the stories about my debaucherous life. Actually, my life is pretty boring these days, compared to what it once was, but he's married, so any news of my ignorance, he's always happy to hear about. 

As I stepped in, he said to me "this is going to be a tough workout, you're going to hate me." I low key feel like he takes joy in hearing me whine about not wanting to do whatever he tells me to do. He told me that today would be a cardio workout that focused on balance. He had one of those workout tools I'd seen, that's half ball, the other half is flat, known as a BOSU ball. I'd seen those things frequently, but never stopped to figure out what they were.

He explained to me that I'd be standing on the flat side, balancing, while doing squats, and holding onto a pole. I surprised us both by getting through the set pretty easy. Next up I did the squats on the BOSU ball, without holding on. Then I lifted weights, while balancing on the BOSU ball. Then he had me standing on one leg, all while I did squats.

Once again, they were all pretty easy, and dare I say it, pretty fun. My trainer remarked on how wild it was that whenever he had me do lunges, I'd practically face plant, but here I was, doing one-legged squats on a balance ball, like a pro. He marveled at how uncoordinated I often am, and while he gave me tasks today, he said that I'm literally only one of 2 people he's ever worked with that had this level of balance. It's probably attributed to the at-home workout routine that I've done on and off for years. I'd never really thought much about it, but at the age of 43, I'm glad to see that I'm doing so well. My trainer joking referred to my combo of terrible coordination with immaculate balance, as me being a "conundrum."

Not sure what made me ask my trainer, but out of no where I asked him what men would typically think about my hair, which is in nearly waist-length, multi-color locs, that I currently have curled up. My trainer said that most men would likely see my brightly colored hair and think I was a free spirit or easy. I wasn't surprised. The fact is, while I love my hair, I get sick of talking about it with and getting complimented on it, by men. I did it because I like bright colors, not because I wanted the attention. I told him that I wasn't shocked, because men comment on my hair the most. My trainer suggested that I darken my hair and appear on the Kendra G show, and internet show where people put themselves out there and look for love. I told him that I pass.

I have no desire to do such a thing anyway, but why the hell should I change my hair to be taken seriously by a man? I'm a grown ass woman, with job I enjoy, higher education, I'm intelligent and well-rounded, my bills are paid. My hair and my tattoos have nothing to do with who I am as a person, and I refuse to dim my light to attract someone who isn't intimidated by the awesomeness that is me.

After gym time, I rushed off to my therapist. God, I love that woman! She's older, and a little old-fashioned, but she's thoughtful. It took her a few weeks to really learn me, but she has, and I thoroughly enjoy meeting with her. She's managed to identify that my biggest stressors are my dating life and my family.

As I walked in today, I immediately unloaded about the strange dream that I had. It was weird, mostly because I haven't talked to that knuckle-dragging idiot in forever, and he's thankfully another woman's problem now (or based on his extensive history, several women's problem). There's no reason for him to suddenly appear in my dreams. In fact, I've been meeting with my therapist for nearly a year now, and only one of our bi-weekly sessions talked deeply about the abuse I suffered at his hands. He's not at the forefront of my mind. So why am I having dreams about him now?

My therapist explained that the dream could have been based on something like a tv in the background, but I know that's not it, because I sleep with the tv on almost nightly. She said it could have been something like a recent interaction with him, but again, that ain't it, I don't talk to him and I don't really even want to. Then she said that it could have been reflection of something else going on in my life. I could almost feel the lightbulb go off in my head.

I immediately thought about a new guy I'd been casually seeing. The funny thing is that the guy is such a minor character in my life, that I hadn't even brought him up to my therapist. Like he's a non-factor at this stage in the game. I enjoy his friendship, and I love talking to him, but I'm not really putting my eggs in any baskets. I'm focused on my plans for when my little walks across the stage to get his diploma in 2 years. If this dude is still there, great! He's already shared his willingness to move with me, if things progress to that point. But if not, whatevs.

My therapist immediately asked me about him. I told her the good, and I shared with her my pink flags, which are leaning towards red. I told her that I pretty much addressed my concerns with him. He grew a smidge defensive initially, but in the end, he got it, and said he'll work on things. But again, I'm not pressed. I have my plans. Alone or booed up, I'm making moves regardless. I told him that if he works on the things I pointed out, whether he's alone or with someone, he'll be a happier version of himself, which he agreed on.

What sucks about working in mental health is that you often find yourself acting as a therapist in your personal life, even if you don't intend to. I recall some years ago that I tried to gently tell a dude that I appreciated the energy he put into trying to get to know me, but he needed some serious therapy to work through some trauma. Like I could see dude's trauma long before he uttered a word about it to me. And that clown then attempted to accuse me of weaponizing my job to judge him. Bitch, I can't help what my job is, but I'm trying to put you on game. Fix yo' shit! So yeah, we don't talk no mo'. Anyway...

I told Dr. C that with the new minor character, I hipped him to what his pink/red flags were, and that he agreed to work on them. I assured her that I'm not pressed regardless, to the point that I hadn't even mentioned him until this thing with the dream came up. He works in a different field, and he makes less than me, while still making a livable wage.

I mentioned to Dr. C that when I met him, I initially told him that my job title was that of a boring paper-pusher, and I only told him later on what I actually do. I explained to her that people assume too many things when I tell them off the rip what I do, and while I'm so fascinated by my field, I don't want to spend all of my down time assessing people and doing therapy. 

My dear doc then suggested that I'm dumbing myself down when I'm not always up front about what my job title or profession is. She suggest that I essentially say "I'm a professional woman who is solid in her career" as a way to meet new people and deflect when asked about my career. But I can only imagine how suspect and off putting that would be to many people. It just makes it feel like you have something to hide. 

Like when I told dude that I'm a paper pusher, he asked no questions. But when I tell people what I do, they immediately hit me with "I could never do that" (I agree, it's not for the weak) and then they assume that I'll be a mother figure/nurse/therapist to them. 

I went on to say how because of having bright hair, tats, colorful nails, and a nose ring, men tend to assume the worst about me. Like my trainer said, they assume that I'm a good-time girl. I really can't count how many times I've met a guy and he had assumptions about me, based on his preconceived notions, and suddenly he acts like I've wronged him by not being whatever he expects me to be. Like dude, I never lied to you. You just saw bright hair and assumed that I was uneducated and unmotivated, and now you're tripping to learn that I have standards because I have a higher degree than you, and I make just as much, or possibly  more money than you.

I became a bit incensed during the visit today. I shared how free-spirited men tend to be flakes, addicts, or all out mentally ill. And polished men can't seem to take me seriously. Like there's this fine line that I'm expected to walk in life. Be bright and friendly and outgoing, but don't be too confident and sure of yourself. People don't like it when you don't hate yourself. But then go into your profession, and you should only wear these boring, muted colors, and don't appear too friendly and sociable, lest you make your colleagues feel uncomfortable and you appear unprofessional and unqualified, in spite of having over a decade of experience, in addition to a professional license.

I ended up buying a BOSU ball this evening. I look forward to using it. Seeing how much I impressed my trainer made me want to stick with the workouts we did today. I already have weights that I enjoy lifting between calls at home. At this rate, it feels only right to further work on my physical wellness, while I'm on the clock. Been balancing this long, might as well keep the party going, right?