I have spent my life exploring the world and embarking on awesome and challenging adventures. I love nothing more than immersing myself in unfamiliar environments and learning new skills. I relish my solitude and am nomadic at heart. I lived in India for 8 months and then traveled through the Middle East for a year. I camped out with Bedouin, wrote poetry on Mt Sinai and was struck silent by the temples in Petra. I taught English in Indonesia and traveled around the coast of Australia with my girlfriend selling hand made books and teaching creative expression workshops. I have worked as a crisis support worker in a young women’s refuge and have performed with physical theater companies in Australia and New York.
My life has changed somewhat in the last year, however, and last night while doing the dishes to the sound of my SO killing virtual ‘bad guys’ on the computer, I realized I was happy! I am living in a culturally challenged area and have not made many friends. I am deeply in love with an awesome guy who I have decided to move in with …………… and I am happy.
I love cooking him dinner and watching movies with him. I love that I come home to him at the end of the day. We have been together for 8 months and I still feel like a teenager when we kiss. I like staying in and playing chess with him and listening to him talk passionately about things I was never really interested in. I even like doing his washing? I DON’T RECOGNIZE MYSELF! Did I mention that I was really happy? Do I sound incredulous? Have I been abducted by aliens?
I think the feminists that I have spent my life loving both platonically and intimately would behead me! Or at least kidnap me and try to reprogram my haywire system. Is there some innate unspoken, often unfulfilled, desire in women to play out the traditional role of house maker? Or am I just lucky enough to be in a uniquely wonderful and healthy relationship?
Did I mention that I am really happy?
Can this last?