In most of my relationships (including my marriage), I had willingly given up myself to be what I thought others wanted me to be. I didn’t want to make waves and I didn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s unhappiness. I decided I was not going to be that person any longer.
I Just Want To Be Me
Shortly after my divorce in 2006, I was discovering myself for what seemed like the first time in my life and I was finally free to be the me I wanted to be… whoever that was. I wanted to experience all the things that I thought might bring me happiness. But it wasn’t long before I let another man step in and he immediately started trying to change me under the guise of higher consciousness. And while Andre’s intentions were good, he began to imply that I was less than I could be because I wasn’t willing to be someone other than myself or do everything he asked of me regarding the business.
But to do, think or be anything other than what I decide on my own simply meant doing, being and thinking to please someone else again. I resented that and I fought against it almost from day one.
Andre didn’t understand that for most of my life I felt I wasn’t good enough and he didn’t realize that I had finally reached the point in my life when I no longer doubted I was good enough. I finally knew that I was.
He was ambitious and had big dreams… dreams that gave birth to Vintage Fine, our boot camp and fitness website for baby boomers. I had lost my job and he thought it would be a good idea to try and capitalize on my genetics.
But because he couldn’t see past his own ambition, he tried to make me fit the mold he had created for me and, in the process, he began to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough just being me.
I reluctantly gave his dream a try. We got the boot camp going, the website up and running, and started working out at Venice Beach every day.
But money wasn’t rolling in fast enough for him to meet me even halfway with all my living expenses, and I began to protest more than he cared to hear it.
Andre was several years younger than I and foolish enough to believe and even say to me,
“This isn’t about you! It’s about the business.”
Those words were as destructive as turpentine splattered against the The Mona Lisa because at that time in my life, being recently divorced and on my own for the first time ever, “ME” is exactly what “IT” was about; and I wasn’t going to allow him or anyone else to destroy the masterpiece that I had taken years to complete. Maybe he needed to be a 50-year-old woman to understand that fact.
I realized then it was time to bid farewell to all the lovers, the players, and empty promise makers because all I want to be for the rest of my life is “me” and I don’t care what anyone thinks about who that person is.