Breaking Up is Hard to Do Pero Does it Really Have to Be?

When I entered the relastionship that is now ending, I did so with so many expectations and anxiety. It’s not like I had great examples of healthy relationships growing up with lies, egos, infidelities, edible crotchless panties and suicide attempts all as shining lights of what a heterosexual marriage like life could end in. No wonder I never wanted to get married or even live with someone. I liked my mother’s post-divorce life, even if it meant socks with holes and dinners of mashed potatoes and long hours working while I helped raised my little sister. Cuz it was also filled with the example of a Latina woman who worked her ass off and gave her kids an amazing education (and I’m not just talking school) and she dated. She was a damn good mother and dated. She would go dancing with Manny the Colombian. Sometimes Ed, the tall white one would take my sis and I to chucky cheese. There was Mahmoud with whom I would get into debates with about religion and women and the one man my mom let move in, Terry, probably the one I disliked the most.

I never saw my mom upset over a breakup after the one with my father. Although I’m sure she was. Pero no se. Maybe there also was a realization, that relationships are fun, beautiful things, hard things pero we don’t always need to be in one.

It’s funny, as my current relationship closes, it’s happening in a healthy way. That’s not to say that there aren’t fucked up things about it (mostly my fuck-ups, I will admit), pero el Chileno and I are doing what we should have done when we got together: asking questions and answering them with full self-knowledge about what our personal needs are. We both need spiritual guidence and the fact that we find that on different paths was an issue that should have been explored before we got serious, especially since he was taught that my path is Satan!!! We have different privacy needs. I for example need to pour out my life on a blog. It’s part of my identity pero I’d rather you not break into my Facebook account and read my paper journals that fill the bookcase. My politics are a way of life, not a hobby or a job. They are my values. They are how I raise my kids, how I love and yes how I fuck. This doesn’t mean I’m perfect pero that I try to live my life a certain way and I will and do fuck up. I’m passionate and impulsive, sometimes to a fault. I mean there is a reason I’m Mamita Mala.

Pero I’m grateful for this opportunity. As much as I will complain about how much talking I’ve been doing and how sometimes I’m just damn tired of so much talking, el Chileno and I have three years of talking to catch up on.

%d bloggers like this: