Life Assembling

If you told me 2 months ago I will be assembling my own exercise machine I will laugh at you. Yeah right. And pigs could fly.

Yet here I am, assembling my own exercise machine. And my own IKEA table with drawers and such. And the chairs too. I have my own little box of tools, and thinking to get some drills too. Wow. Much progress. Plenty impressive.

This is all thanks to my friend. I wrote about helping her build the gazebo a few weeks ago. Her generosity on hosting me during my break-up not only allow me to heal myself and prevent me from making bad decision, but also made me see what I can (or cannot) do. 

We talked about aspiring women. We talked about head of nations, CEOs, and other important position. We talked about queens and princesses, of celebrities and famous people. We are in love with Daenerys and Wanda Maximoff, badass woman characters that can kick butt.

But man, my friend is my new hero right now. And I wish people can see that. 

There was nothing astounding about your local neighborhood mom. The fact that she is capable on doing things around the house for most people can even come as disturbing. Men feel threatened and inadequate. Women feel it was against nature.

But have you seen my IKEA desk? It was a gloriously heavy wood table that will adequately sit even my largest board game when expanded. Without lessons I gathered from her, I would have to settle with a cheap plastic fold up table and be somewhat miserable.

I went on IKEA trips on my own to get different things, all tucked into my wheeled duffel bag and transported by bus. Why? Because she showed me that can be done. It's not scary to get (big) furniture and do it yourself. Her amazing clothes wardrobe is a true statement of that.

I have been helped a lot during and after my breakup. A LOT. At times I don't understand why they are even helping me or care about me. Surely there is something wrong with their brain? Maybe they mistook me for someone else? I am incredibly grateful for such love, though. 

Yet the realization that I can do things and I can have nice things is definitely one of the blessing in the otherwise painful event. That things are... attainable. You just need some elbow grease and decent head over your shoulder. That I don't have to be scared and choose cheap ready made things just because I don't think I can assemble the nicer ones.

That I don't really need a knight in shining armour. Which I still want one, just because. But I don't need someone to better my life. I can better my own life, thank you. And if I needed to, I can ask my dear friends, her especially, to help me out. I am not alone. I never was.

This is why women like us are scary. We want happiness, but we inadvertently set the bar so high. It's pretty much "I till the whole land and milk all the goats and mill all the flours. Please don't come unless you have at least 6 milk cows and a solid trade log for fresh milk, cheese, and butter." 

Keeping us are also harder. The moment you fell out of grace, you are out. The BS tolerance gets significantly lower when you know that you, well, don't have to tolerate anything. If it doesn't bring you joy, out in the trash it went.

Now why would anyone wish such lonely existence? Why make yourself so unmarketable? The answer is because it is so much easier to cry about the loss of my love on my new plush mattress on the frame that I set up myself. It is so much easier to feel the world is ending while I sat mindlessly with a cup of tea on my new shiny table and comfy chair.

Partners, spouses, significant others etc come and go, but life skills stay. You stay. You can't really kick out that person in your head. And this is why the badassery that is my friend should be celebrated. That all parents in the PTA should whispered "There. That's her. Dammit if I can't make my kid as adequate as her." 

It's great to have public women role model because it gives us hope and encouragement. Yet it is also important to see around you for gems like this. Looking for people who made you feel you can be strong too. You can be independent too. Because let's face it: being independent ROCKS.