Toronto

This was a trip that I decided to go on; then not go; then go on-- several times over.

When you become one part of A Couple, the thing they fail to tell you is that you become very, very used to having your person around. Making decisions with your person. Sitting across the table at a restaurant with your person.  Exploring new and old territory with your person.

And the operative word in those sentences, is 'with'; a preposition that usually accompanies the presence of another.

In my extreeeeeemely single days (which I believe spanned all the years post high school and well after graduating from University), there was no need to use the word 'with'-- it was implied that Joann would be making the decision, eating at the restaurant, exploring the territory...with herself. And while that is largely written to make use of parallelism and is exaggerated to fit the point, it is true that despite having gorgeous, wonderful friends and family, I only relied on myself, when it came down to it.

Independent Joann was very fierce in those days. I think I did my fair share of scoffing at girlfriends who got lost in the depth of their partners (though I doubt we called them 'partners' back then), who became a part of a sticky pact. Girlfriends who made clear demarcations that this new person was a VIP, and thus made time for him, talked about him, held the importance of his happiness on par with hers. I'll never be like that, I thought.

I'm sorry if it was you I scoffed at. Because, well.......... now I get it.

That interdependence does not equal codependence.
That it is valid, and true.

Life in Pictures: Mapril

After we shook off the hibernation from our eyes in February, it's been pretty zoom zoom from there. I was hardly home in March-- flitting from one coast to the other for Spring Break, a staycation at Kathleen's with her chickens and hospitality, and then in windy Whitehorse to learn myself up real good at a counselling conference.

Here are some brief images from Nikki. Toronto post coming up next. 

Saturday morning ritual