Cincinnati, OH
We rounded a corner of the tight city streets. We had driven around the block a couple of times in search of parking place that did not put us at risk of getting a ticket, and that was hopefully within walking distance of our destination of choice. He had put a lot of thought into trying to find a place formal enough to suit my attire, but still within a decent price range. I felt a bad that my outfit had caused such a dilemma. I even offered to change. I'm quite terrible at overdressing for occasions. At least if your judgement of such is based upon the reactions I receive. I dress to my level of comfort. T-shirt and jeans don't seem to suit me all that well. The clothes people exchange at the end of the night for ones of more comfort, are usually the clothes that leave me feeling the most at ease. Sweatpants and hoodies are attire meant for working out and cleaning, and even then I feel anxious. The dress I selected for this night was one I had bought in my early twenties. Before I even got married. It was not a dress considered acceptable for a girl of my upbringing to wear. But I couldn't resist how well it flattered my curves. Not to mention that it was on sale. This was the first time I had worn it, I mean really worn it. I had put it on before with several accompanying pieces to try and make it acceptable for my hometown. But tonight I wore it as it was meant to be worn.
He turns to me and says, "You don't dress like the people here."
I can't remember how the conversation went on from there. I'm sure I asked something like, "Is that a bad thing?" And he went on to describe that the people their dressed very casually, not flashy, just normal clothes, no bright colors or fancy attire and they didn't wear flowers in their hair.
"You said you liked the flower." I replied. I think offered to take it out. But he said to leave it and confirmed that he did like it.
"I don't dress like the people from where I'm from either." I say. He seems a little surprised.
My home state tends to be more on the casual side as well. You do have quite a few artistic and eccentric people here and there that will have a taste to bring a little classic classiness into their wardrobe. But even so, my taste for the dramatic, my love of all things old fashioned and my strange desire to wear things a little more low cut and form fitting then most tends to leave me sticking out like a coffee drinker on our local college campus.
We find a parking space, exit the car and proceed to walk to the restaurant. It's strange how walking beside this man feels so comfortable and natural, and yet so unbelievable. If I wrote the story down it may make for a decent novel. As of now a novel with an ending unknown. I myself can't fully understand how all of this came about. Even though I am the one who lived it.
I still remember that Saturday morning. I was about to head somewhere, don't ask me to recall. I had just gotten all dressed up, as I do on the weekends.
My work requires more casual attire then I prefer. Wearing scarves in your hair or fancy boots is not only a waste of ones efforts, but is also a risk to your safety. On the weekends I can't wait to shed my manly looking clothes, and slip on something more feminine. I use the weekends to remind myself that I am still a young and attractive female. Those two days of the week are when I feel most in my element.
As I was saying, on this Saturday morning after I had finished getting dressed, I glanced at my Facebook to look see if anything exciting had popped up on my news feed. I scrolled and scrolled through various status updates and pictures of people displaying their weekend activities. I scrolled and scrolled and then I stopped. Something had caught my eye. There it was. His picture with an article posted on Glen Beck's page. Why I contacted him I don't really know. Thinking back to it now, how little I knew of him and how I first approached him leaves me a little red in the face. But it had to start somewhere. And without that message I would never be where I am today.
Catching an early morning plane
Denver Airport, ripe with conspiracy. . .my favorite!
I've been on trips I never thought I would dare to take. Twice, I have set foot in a state I never gave much thought to in the past. I have since fallen in love with that state. I have worn clothes I always loved but never dared to display out in public for all to see. I have tasted things I never thought would touch my lips. And I have made friends, amazing friends, who have shown me beautiful examples of kindness and love.
We take our seats in the giant booth table. I am sitting across from a man who's life differs so greatly from anything I have ever known. We grew up a thousand miles apart. Our cultures are vastly different. Trying to describe them to one another is like a fish trying to tell a bird how it breaths underwater. Neither of us can fully understand or comprehend. And yet we can talk for hours. Somehow we have things in common. Somehow he understands me better than most. It's not hard to feel comfortable around him. I find that to be so strange. Two people so different, and yet so much alike.
However, no matter how much we talk, or how comfortable I begin feel, there will always be fear. A fear of being hurt. A fear of not being accepted just as I am. It's a fear embedded in me from my past. I can't shake it. Though at times I desperately wish that I could.
The highest point of the City
Most people will never fully know the real me. I am a big, raging pot of boiling personality. Each part of me making a passionate plea to come to the surface to be released. Some people may catch glimpses of the varying sides of my personality. The vast differences that stretch out in opposite directions, just as the East does from the West. They all somehow come together to make up one singular person. To describe myself is a monologue I have never dared to write. At times you will catch little glimpses of me in varying degrees. But most of my personality lays in reserve. It only comes out in secret. In those times when I'm alone. My shyness, and fear of not being liked are to thank for that. I keep certain parts of me from ever fully coming to the surface. Which is probably for the benefit of all mankind because I am pretty intense. Bursting with joy one minute. Raging in anger the next. Some days I'm sluggish and moody. Some days I buy lingerie just because. I seem to keep people guessing. Even those that think they know all there is to know. I like to keep changing. I like to keep growing. People make a mistake of putting me in a box. Claiming that this is what I am and all I ever will be. I only see this as challenge. A challenge to completely shock them.
My first time rock climbing. Loved it!
This little boiling pot of personality has it's disadvantages though. It's hard for me to keep friends. Perhaps because I fail to meet peoples expectations. Perhaps because I break free of the assumptions people have made and they don't care to try and figure me out from there. Or maybe it's because I tend to change so much.
A few years ago you wouldn't recognize for what I am now. I grew up a Mormon. I was raised in the LDS church in Utah. I have no regrets for how I was raised. It kept me from making choices that would have emotionally destroyed me at the time. I didn't attend wild high school parties. I never tasted a sip of alcohol. Coffee had never once been given the opportunity to wake me up in the morning. I hardly ever uttered a swear word. At times I would get more comfortable with the "shits" and the "damns" and my favorite was usually "jackass". But I would usually pull back and clean my mouth up by going back to the "craps" and the "dangs"-- I would still use jackass though because that word just says it all. I had never, ever uttered the f-word. I didn't even think it. Now I seem to use it way too f#@%ing much. I used to be able to fit nicely among my fellow church members. I could talk the talk and walk the walk. But now I just I struggle to start conversations and walk away fumbling, tripping and stumbling.
Skyline Chili, a craving I was never supposed to have
Truth be told I was never a very good Mormon. I carry the values and the lessons I have been taught with me as I continue on my journey. I do not regret the person the church has helped me to become. But I am finding that, my whole life, I have been trying to be something that I'm not. Something that I just can't stick to. I don't have the passion to wake up for 9:00 AM church on my day off. I don't have the drive to serve in a calling when I can barely get a handle on my everyday life. I have probably missed more church then I have attended. And the more I set foot into a world I was told to fear the more I find there was nothing to fear at all. There is so much more to learn out there. It's not about living a life opposite of the one I was raised in. It's not about rebellion. I mean maybe it's a little about rebellion. I am pretty rebellious. It's not about becoming dangerous, dark and scary. No, it's about expounding on the knowledge I already have. It's about finding God in places I never thought I would. It's about throwing assumptions, all assumptions, out the window, as I fly down the highway of life, shouting, "I know nothing! Teach me Lord! Teach me!"
Cute Ohio boys! They make sure life is never dull.
I have entered a world I would have avoided before. But avoiding it was a mistake. The people here are amazing. Their kindness, unmatched. Their faith, astounding. Their love of God and Christ, beautiful. For some reason they see me as fit to be among them. Though I can never quite figure out why. I truly don't deserve to be counted as a friend among such wonderful people as these. They are far better than I will ever be. But they take me in, and I can not refuse. I would be a fool to refuse. I can't go back. I can never go back.
Showered with gifts the moment I arrived. But seriously guys. . .where's my coffee? haha!
I couldn't even fit everything in my bags. And they made me drag those fortune cookies all the way across the United states.
Doctor Who Footie pajamas. I know. You're jealous!
And of course I got a little cock while I was there. Everyone needs a cock. Google Combat Cock to learn more.
Ohio has stolen my heart. I was seduced by that river and the beautiful bridges. And the people sealed the deal. Each time I leave it gets harder not to stay. Each time I come home the less I feel at home. I miss my Ohio boys. I miss a place I never thought I would ever go. I miss Ohio and I don't know how to stay away.
Roebling Bridge
That beautiful river. I can't get enough!
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