I was in class on Thursday and was suddenly hit with this wave of recognition of how far I've come. Granted, it's taken 3.5 years to get this far, but as I stood there, I couldn't help but reflect, and then become teary eyed, over how far I'd come.
In the Fall of 2011 I registered for an introductory German language course at the local community college. It had been a year since I had found out about Matt, and ended our relationship, and I had been hidden away in my house pretty much that entire year. I had done little, and gone very few places in that time, and was lonely and trying really hard to move on. (Which of course is never a good mindset- moving on happens when you don't notice it.. You can't make it happen, it just happens.)
While I was excited to register for the course, I was also terrified of what I would find in the classroom. I was absolutely terrified of men and had panic attacks regularly, despite being in therapy, and on anti-anxiety medication. I could not go to the grocery store without being wracked with fear.
I scheduled an appointment to meet with the professor ahead of time to see if something could be worked out. From the moment I sat down with her, I began to shake and cry. I was terribly embarrassed that I couldn't control myself, but she was so incredibly kind, and so soft and gentle with me. She said she would do whatever she could to help me stay in that class and survive the semester. She gave me permission to leave the room at any time I felt uncomfortable and assigned seats in the room so I would be surrounded by women, and so I would only be ever paired with women. I was still terrified, but her accommodations allowed me to stay in the course.
It started out an almost daily occurrence- rushing into the hallway to hyperventilate and sob everytime we did a group activity, or a socializing activity. We were supposed to talk to other students in class, fill out a form by asking questions auf Deustch (eg: Are you wearing blue socks? Is your favorite color green?, etc.) I stayed in my seat because I was too afraid to get up, and managed to ask two or three questions of those girls sitting around me before a 17 year old accelerated high school student strolled up and tried to ask me a question. He was such a sweet kid, and so young, but I couldn't help myself and I ran out of the room crying. I sat on the toilet in the women's room for the rest of class, trying to calm myself down. He hadn't even asked me the question. He just got too close to my desk and I was physically unable to handle the stress. It was awful.
Over time though, the class got better, and I tolerated more and more, and ran out of the room less; but I never would have been able to be in that room had I not had such a caring, sensitive teacher. She truly made a huge impact on my life. She even wrote my recommendation letter for graduate school. She was amazing.
The next term I couldn't take another class with her and ultimately withdrew from the other teacher's course because she simply could not cater to my needs the way the first teacher had. (On the second day of class she paired me with a man for a partner- even though I had spoken to her about my problems. I tried to calm my panic attack as I stood out in the hall, some kid shoved a flyer in my face [while I was sobbing and hyperventilating] and then laughed at me and shouted down the hallway that I was high on drugs and "tripping." I couldn't take it, and never went back.)
Thinking about where I was... Standing in class on Thursday, our professor had us stand in a circle, close together, and play a game. My heart raced in my chest, and my sweat soaked the underarms of my blouse, but I stood there. I tolerated it. I even forced myself to join in (I may have let loose a curse word) when I was picked at one point. But I participated. Our class is half men. I sit with them all the time. Every day of the week I see them, I stand with them, and talk to them. I even see them out of class from time to time.
Things sure are different around here.
One of my closest friends at school is a man. He is the nicest, sweetest man I have known in a long time. He is the first man I have met since Matt that I truly feel safe with. He will not hurt me- in fact, he would do whatever he could to protect me. He is gentle and soft spoken and so fun to talk to.
He's a little younger than me, and his girlfriend is much younger than him as well- and lives a dozen states away from here. But he is always caring, considerate and kind- just to everyone, and the more I notice it, the more some part of me gives a sigh of relief.
We went out last night and he and I, for some reason we can just talk for hours. I have one other male friend that I have had that kind of chemistry with, but it's not something that comes around often for me. I don't have male friends. We don't connect like that. But for these two people, it's just there. We talk, we listen, it works. The first time this friend of mine and I went out alone, we sat and talked for five hours straight. Just straight through. It was amazing. (It may very well be because he gossips like a teenage girl!)
Anyway, he walked me to my car last night- which gave me pause to begin with. I was in this restaurant with 7 or 8 other people, and I was the only woman who had come alone and no one offered to walk me. I didn't expect it, it just struck me. Without hesitation he was concerned with my safety and wanted to make sure I both got in my car and that it started and that I actually got on my way. Other than my experiences leaving the dog park late at night, no one has ever really done this for me. It may seem like common courtesy, but to me, it was impressive. I wanted to hug him just for offering. It was just... kind. I need "kind," from men, in my life. I need that.
Of course when we got to my car, we stood there, in the freezing cold, talking until 2 in the morning. That's just how we are. Someone at school called us "kindred spirits," which of course I loved for the Anne of Green Gables reference, but really, this probably has more to do with, again, his ability to gossip like a girl! (And we all know I'm great with that!)
While we were chatting, we talked about a classmate of ours who had had a hard day (there was actually a huge incident in class on Thursday during an activity in which three people got into it) and ended up rushing out of class (sounds familiar) and having a panic attack so severe he ended up laying on the floor of the men's room for more than half an hour trying to calm down. My friend, who doesn't know this student all that well, slipped out, found him and sat with them that entire time until he got a handle on himself. I couldn't believe that either. I had gone and sat with another student involved and talked to him to calm him down as well. As far as I know, we were the only two people in our entire cohort that did that. As we talked about it on the side of the road in the middle of the night, we each confided our mutual fears about the mental stability of one of the people involved- we feared he would hurt himself-. We both just "knew," and.. I don't know how to describe that. Seeing sensitivity in a man after all I have been through, and have had done to me by not just Matt, but other terrible people on this planet.- seeing someone be aware and tuned in, and to actually care- it meant something to me. Again, I was just impressed.
At some point the conversation turned to more cheerful matters, and this friend of mine just started spontaneously telling me, unprompted, that he knew the right man was out there for me. That he knew it. He had no doubts, and that that person is going to spring up and surprise me when I least expect it. When I stop looking, I'll just turn a corner and there he will be. He said this a few times, and I laughed, the first few times he said, but then I really started to think about it.
I started to think of that Stephanie Nielson quote that I so loved, " .. but then it was followed by a beautiful spiritual confirmation that this is my new life. It is good. It is oh-so-good."
The only way for me to describe this moment was as a spiritual confirmation that this friend was placed into my life on purpose. He is meant to be my friend, and to show me what men can be like. That they are not all bad. That they will not all hit you, scream at you, be unfaithful to you or force themselves upon you. They will not hold you down and put handcuffs on your wrists while you scream out, scared. They will not all leave bruises on your body and scars on your heart. Some men, like this man, drive through snowstorms to pick their neighbors up at the airport, and babysit three month old babies for no reason other than someone needed help. They will walk you to your car in the cold in the middle of the night, and check in to make sure you made it home safely. They will lay on the floor with you when you are scared and alone and make sure they've done everything they can to help you feel otherwise. They will give you hugs that don't make your skin crawl, but really make you feel happy and safe.
There are apparently people like this on this planet, as difficult as it is for me to believe. I think this was a lesson I had to re-learn because I have been taught precisely the opposite so many times up until now, and I know for sure that I will need this lesson again. He is here to show me that not everyone is bad. That there are safe, kind, good people out there. That you can have friends of the opposite sex and not worry that they will be inappropriate with you, or take advantage of you. That there are other people with the same morals and standards and intuitions as you have. Those people exist.
I know this friend was sent to me. I don't know how long we will be friends, or even how good of friends we are now. But I know that just by watching this person exist, by demonstrating who he is as a human being, simply by existing, I am beginning to get back something that I lost along the way.
Trust.
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