finding my voice

I suppose as I look back on these days a year from now, it'll all be a blur. Kind of like a dream that floats from fantasy to nightmare and back and forth again. Visions of palm trees swaying in the ocean breeze give way to the incessant shrill of sirens and racing engines outside our bedroom window. It's sensory overload.

I made a conscious choice to seek a new kind of life that would challenge me to reach the next level--for my career, my social life, my love life. At the center of that new life is a man who is charming, brilliantly creative and totally in love with me. But also included in the package is a quirky artist who's pretty high strung sometimes, likes a lot of attention and has just a touch of an ego. OK, it's more than a touch, but it's not bad....really.

Andy likes to talk. He spends a lot of time talking...to me, to friends, basically anyone he can. It's another outlet for his creative energy I guess. I don't have that need. I usually prefer writing my thoughts and feelings over talking, unless, of course, I am coaxed with a beverage, or if someone shows great interest in what I have to say. Also I tend to clam up when things are bothering me, and as you know, things have been bothering me. Rob was great for drawing out all sorts of stuff from me, but Andy hasn't discovered the value in that yet. He's still learning me.

My point in all this chatter is that Andy's habit of talking a lot mixed with my tendency to be somewhat quiet, plus the anxiety I've felt trying to find my own identity here has led to me kind of lose my voice.

One day last week Andy and I had coffee with a friend of his I hadn't yet met. Wow, was I in for a treat. This woman, instead of talking about herself (which many people out here seem to do), asked question upon question of me! I suddenly rose to the occasion and enjoyed a real conversation with her. Like a long lost friend I heard my own voice speaking again. I did more talking in that hour than in all the time I've been out here.

And the best part of it all was that it made me feel good again. I felt real. I felt validated. It kind of bothers me that it took that conversation to realize what had gone wrong with me. But I didn't dwell on that. I tucked it in my pocket and took it with me for next time.

Last night after some sex play with Andy I voiced my opinion on something that normally I would have kept to myself. He responded perfectly. I can see that this new thing called communicating through spoken words is working, so I'm going to keep building on it.

It feels like I'm a long way from reaching the next level in my career, my social life and my love life. But if I find ways to reclaim my identity I think the power that comes from that will propel me to where I want to be even faster.