Isaac – A Necessary Introduction

“It’s not that I’m obsessed with him or anything. It’s just that, well maybe I used to be.”

I know, you’ve come to hear my story and I’m over here getting ready to ramble on about some boy. Is that all this is? Another tale of a delusional girl that’s just a little bit too caught up on the wrong man? I assure you, it’s not. You see, I’ve grown to see over the last year or so that your interactions with others really are just reflections of your own self image. Those we surround ourselves with become our mirrors, if you will. So as I begin to share with you what I started to see as I stood in front of the mirror, learning to love myself, it’s only fair that I start by acknowledging the mirror I used.

The truth is, I didn’t collide with Isaac in the hallway. And no, it’s not that I lied – it’s simply that this condition of mine, this love for life, sometimes makes me paint the world into relatable little pictures. Sometimes it blurs the lines of fantasy and reality but it’s always my reality. I collided into Isaac on the deep dark web as I was on a downward spiral – hoping to crash into something, ANYTHING, just so I could finally stop. No, not the literal dark web but it was Craigslist so it’s close enough, right?

I was about 8 months post-partum and I still woke daily to thoughts of death storming my mind. I thought about it, I wished for it, it was the closest I got to any sort of wanting those days. I had my son to a man that had enough of his own mental health issue that went unaddressed that he couldn’t be bothered to hold the baby so I could pee, more often than not. I would get degraded, scolded, berated, gaslighted, and was left feeling more isolated than I ever had before. At this point, though, I had already mastered my quiet act so I trudged through, head down and mouth shut, with deceptive assurances of happiness whenever anyone asked.

One day, I woke up and I couldn’t seem to keep up the act. I needed to talk about everything on inside of me. From the time I was 13, I learned the internet was a wonderful place to find strangers with opinions that just didn’t matter. They were always the easiest ones to give glimpses of my secret to. So, I took to the internet by means of a strictly platonic ad on craigslist. If nothing else, I would get a good laugh scrolling through some of the creepier messages Craigslist was known for bringing – I could have really used a laugh.

My post was arrogant, exuding a confidence that I only knew how to wear behind a screen. Asking for intelligent conversation, demanding only the best apply. I know what you’re thinking – who goes looking for that on Craigslist? Here’s the thing, though. Did you know there are mushrooms out there that are thousands of dollars PER OUNCE? Do you know what mushrooms are, where they are? They’re fungus, thriving in cool dark places surrounded by death. Not everything you find in the dark is bad. Sometimes you find the treasures that are misunderstood and overlooked – they’re the reason I spend so much time in the dark.

Amongst the dozens, if not hundreds of strange, funny, but ultimately disappointing responses, I found my yartsa gunbu. His response confident and challenging, expressing his hopes that I can live up to my promise of intelligent conversation because he loves a “delicious mind”. Yes, sir, you have my attention, who are you…

I couldn’t remember the last time I felt excitement over anything, anyone. A big part of me feels bad openly admitting that because I was a new mom and surely I was in awe constantly over my little bundle of joy, right? Yes, I was a new mom. A teen mom. A guilted into getting pregnant because she got so good at the quiet game that she didn’t know how to stick up for herself, mom. A doing it all alone so she was sleeping when the baby slept and oh goodness was she crying when the baby cried, mom. I love my son to death, and I did then too, but I was far from excited.

That email became the first of a couple thousand over the course of a few years as I learned that the sender of it, Isaac, would continue to find an indefinite number of ways to challenge me – and boy do I like a challenge! Isaac was the kind of sexy that I found intimidating, undeserving of. His charm was alluring, his nonjudgmental-ness comforting and his mind, beautifully complex. He demanded and openness and vulnerability that I was far to eager to give. Being known and understood was something I had craved deeply after keeping parts of myself tucked away for so long, so I sunk my teeth in the moment the opportunity was presented to me.

Getting to know Isaac gave me the courage to walk away from my toxic relationship so I could raise my son in an environment where he could see what healthy love looked like. No, I didn’t leave to be WITH Isaac but I knew his support and encouragement would give me the push I needed to get through the struggle. I borrowed his courage when I needed to report sexual harassment, when I needed to stand up to my boss, when I needed to ask for a raise. I borrowed his courage often, even when I didn’t tell him I was. That’s what I mean, people are just a reflection of ourselves. When I borrowed his courage, I wasn’t actually borrowing it so much as I was remembering I had it after I admired it in him.

Isaac presented himself to me as a self-proclaimed narcissist. I’ve never told him this, and if he find out now he may argue it greatly but, the man is no narcissist, he just craves being accepted and loved unconditionally. Don’t we all, though? The fact that Isaac was married and involved with other women played into his narcissism pitch but I wasn’t sold. Isaac is where I learned that the best thing we can ever do for another person is see them exactly as they are, support them in who they want to be, and love them unconditionally. It’s a special kind of magic to see the spark in someone’s eye when they see their own beauty, accepted and reflected back to them.

For a long time, I thought that because Isaac is around whom I learned these things, that of course they must be credited to him. It took some time without him to see this wasn’t the case. I was to credit for the things I’ve learned and while I could acknowledge the roles other people have played in my lessons, it would be doing myself a great injustice to just hand over the credit for the hard work I’ve put in.

I spent some time working with a life coach during which time I found myself referring to this concept as “out-sourcing success”. I spent so much time not being myself that it was hard to believe I had the power and the courage to do impactful things – whether it be in my own life or on a grander scale. I could only accept the credit for anything negative, quiet, low-profile. Impactful things are big, loud, inspiring – that can’t possibly be me. So I would give away that credit, that success, as if throwing blame in an attempt to explain why I was housing something that didn’t fit, something positive.

Isaac humbly accepted the credit during the stretch of time I handed it over, and also lovingly handed it back once I told him I realized I shouldn’t have given it away, further proving my argument against his narcissism. It was empowering taking that ownership back. Sometimes, I still hear from Isaac and sometimes my mind will get carried away. The truth is through, I wouldn’t be me if my mind didn’t fill with possibility anytime I had a thought.

Now though, Isaac reminds me of everything I took back from him, everything that I’m becoming. Now, he reminds me that all of the things that I once thought wouldn’t be possible, were and that not only can I have THOSE possibilities, but I can have greater. He’s my reminder that I can show someone just how dark I can get and have them stick around to point out that it means that I’m equally light, rather than running. It’s not that I’m obsessed with him or anything. It’s just that, well maybe I used to be. But I’m learning that I just do that sometimes – obsess, that is. I like to think of it as hyper-focus.

Sometimes, like a shiny object, something will break my focus. I’ll redirect. A new obsession starts developing. I start pouring my energy, my all, into the next thing. I’m so sure this is going to be the thing that makes me feel complete. Shiny object now out of sight, I lose that hope. My focus shifts back to the issue at hand.

Try to follow. You might find, my posts shift like my focus. It’s the journey, the process. It’s how the story happens. How does your story happen? When did you learn that you’re the main character? Even as I sit here and write about Isaac, tell you his role, it becomes increasingly more apparent that the main character is self. I’m always explaining how something effects self. What is effecting self, from your perspective, in your life?

Much love, until we meet again.