It's Important to Share Exquisite Pain with the Ones You Love

I don't think I'm cut out for this whole Cringe Book thing.

This morning I ditched the office again so I could continue to sift through journal entries documenting my tortured past and submit the most awkward ones for possible inclusion in a book that'll be publicized on a national level. And when I first pulled those books out, it was fun. I'd shriek with delight over each memory and eagerly shove a diary into Luke's hands so he could read passages aloud in his best little-Frema voice. Oh, the days when life's biggest problems included agonizing over which New Kid to pine for!

However, as I moved on to my pre-teen years and straight into full-blown adolescence, it became harder and harder to laugh.

I've written enough about Nick--The One Who Went For Three Weeks Without Calling, the boy who happily accepted my offer of virginity before I took off for college, the guy I obsessed over for FIVE YEARS--on this Web site that the following entries don't need much backstory. The first one was written on February 6, 1996, almost four months after we broke up for the first time.

See how "grade" I was doing? So what if I was afraid to leave the house in case I missed a potential phone call? Who cares I was creating elaborate schemes to make secret contact with the boy who plainly told me I needed to be with someone else, or that I included phrases like "exquisite pain" in my vocabulary?

We got back together that June, but by August we were fighting again. Break-up number two involved confessions of drug use, theft, and contact with another girl in a nearby suburb, with a big "Fuck you!" from me as he fled the scene as fast as his legs could carry him. By spring of my senior year, we were dancing around each other again. We went to prom. We did the Deed. And in between, there were missed phone calls, week-long absences, and awkward conversations about "where this is going." Just like before.

So when I read the entry below, written just days after admitting to my part in our Horizontal Tango (in such detail that I made myself blush, and I wrote the damn thing), I really do physically cringe.

Page 2:

Stupid, stupid, stupid girl! I can't believe how stupid. I was preparing to spend the rest of my life with someone just to rid myself of religious guilt. Because God would've much preferred me to commit to a man prematurely rather than just call a spade a spade and let him go. Classic flawed logic--like when I was debating sex in the first place and thought we shouldn't use a condom because the Catholic church is against artifical contraception. A+, Frema. Well done.

I read these entries and can't decide which is worse: that I let myself get so wrapped up in a relationship before I was ready to stand behind my beliefs or that one day I might have a daughter who feels the same way and I will have to watch her suffer the same way my parents watched me. I was so angry with them, especially my mother, who I often yelled at for not having enough trust in me to make good decisions, right before I ran to Nick's house and spent four hours on the mattress in his bedroom pretending to watch Die Hard. I was in control! I knew when to stop! And when I finally gave in completely, I still believed I knew what I was doing. It was my body! My choice! Who was she to tell me what to do?

I think about having similar arguments with children of my own when they're that age and I'm petrified. I'm in awe my mother was able to restrain herself from popping me in the mouth.  I wonder how many nights my father had to comfort her to sleep because I was so quick to declare my independence, so cocky as I threw her teenage pregnancy in her face and informed her how much smarter I was, how I was determined to live a different life than the one she'd panned out for herself. I acted like her advice couldn't possibly have value because I didn't want to admit how self-destructive it was for me to insist on staying with Nick, refusing to "give up" even when he wanted me to. As wrong as he was for me, he wasn't a bad person. He gave me plenty of outs, and if I'd told him to stay the hell away from me, he would've done it. It was me who kept going back, enticing him to come back, making excuses for his behavior so I wouldn't have to think about life without him.

I'm glad I gave this Cringe Book a shot. I'm glad that I'm twenty-seven years old with a wonderful husband (who celebrates his thirty-third birthday today, Happy Birthday, sweetie!) and insanely understanding parents. I'm glad I wrote these entries because the act of putting my feelings to paper was sometimes the only way I could get a handle on my emotions. But I'll also be glad to pack these books up and retire them to my closet again. Refusing to share them out of context with a mass of strangers (I refuse to think of you guys as strangers) will be the Valentine's Day present I give to myself.

Comments

[David McNelis]

First, happy birthday Luke.

Second, you are freaking me out Frema. If I could locate my old journals I think you'd find some passages almost verbatim, despite being a guy, and not dealing with the sex thing till college. Of course I went through the exact same thought process about God and Sex after my first time. And the time after that. Then I just became a man-whore.

But the part that struck home with me was the "brain" part. When I was an adolescent I was in what was called the "Alpha" program (which I realize now probably was named so courtesy of Brave New World....SCARY!!) and thought that my problems fitting in were all due to being in advanced classes. At least, well, to my knowledge, make my mistake and intentionally do poorly just so I could be average. I never recovered from it really, and as a result have more student loan debt than I really want to think about.

[daddy d]

Life is and was full of what to dos and what not to do. It goes on and on. However, look at the joy of Valentines Boy.

[Silly Hily]

I wish I had things from "those" year wrote down now. I do. And I'm sure if every young girl (and guy) kept a journal or diary, you would find that they really would all say pretty much the same thing. The thought of being on the adult end of all of this one day also terrifies me to no end.
This was a very good post. I think that maybe, just maybe your journal entries will end up helping once it's your turn to be the parent.

And Happy Birthday Luke, you little cupid baby you.

[Silly Hily]

Your mom.

[Rachel]

It's funny how growing up makes you realize that some of your decisions as a teenager where not necessarily the right ones.

Like you and Silly Hily, I dread having to be on the parent end of that situation, but, it's inevitable. My girls will one day grow up and they will meet some guy that is, while a nice person, a destructive person for them. They will make decisions based on how they feel at the time and I can only hope that I am able to form the type of relationship with them where they will feel comfortable coming to me first.

Great post!

[Katie]

Thanks for sharing :-) I have journals from my teenage years, though they're very sparse, missing entire years here and there. I think that when my kids become teenagers my instict will be to expect them to be perfect and perfectly in self-control, especially in the hormones and making-good-choices-about-boy/girlfriends departments. I will probably forget that even me, good old Miss Molly Mormon, struggled with hormones. It's a good thing I have my journals and yours to remind me :-)

I had similar thoughts on making things right with God. I was 15 and my boyfriend was 16 when he went so far as to PUT HIS ARM AROUND ME. Our parents (mostly his) lectured us for quite some time about how we were starting down a slippery slope and were soon headed toward fornication. I do remember thinking that the evil putting-arm-around would all be justified in the end, because I was going to marry him.

[Isabel]

Happy Birthday LUKE!

I don't even know what to say after reading this. Wow...

You were a very mature teenager. I mean, you might not think so...but the fact that you were even struggling with your thoughts and beliefs is far more than most teenagers do. Most of them just do whatever they want, regardless of how it will turn out. But you seem to be thinking about it. Even if you weren't thinking clearly...you were thinking.

And also, thanks for being brave enough to post these and then talk about it. You ALWAYS write such lovely posts. You deserve to be a professor and teach all about blogging. I just wish I could take your class!!

[Angela]

I found some of my old journals when I was cleaning out my closets before the movers came last week. I sat there reading them and really trying to remember the girl I was when I wrote all of my pain down on paper. I think I'm glad that I've changed so much that I can't really remember being that girl, and I can't imagine ever sharing that pain with a world of "strangers" to giggle over. I think you just gave yourself the best Valentine's Day present there is, and thank you so much for trusting us all enough to share those old emotions.

[Molly]

Aww Bree, I was so sad for you reading the Nick stuff. You are right, it isn't that he's a bad person - he just made bad choices and had bad priorities. When you dated him it was pretty clear that he was not good for you - not your Mr. Right that respected you and treasured you for the amazing person you are. I'm glad that you didn't end up marrying him, because God really did have such a better plan for you. You and Luke (Happy Birthday Luke!) are wonderful, and you have a great commitment and wonderful dreams for the future together. I know that it's not anything you question, but I just thought I'd throw it out there too.

I think we both, being the oldest children in a large-ish family, gave our mothers a run for their money. I can only hope it doesn't come back to bite us in the ass. We really did think we had all the answers back then, didn't we? I guess it's all part of the teenage years. The awful, awkward, icky teenage years. (Which, for the record, is why I tossed my old journals forever ago. Poor lost dramatic icky teenage me...)

Your mom was a teenager, too. (Literally, and for shits and giggles.)

[Art Nerd]

I agree that you were rather mature in some ways, Frema. I can't recall struggling with the thought of God hating me after I was "deflowered" (I just love that term, btw). This is not to say that I didn't, but I certainy can't fully make those memories out, clouded as they are with pot smoke. Hey, I went to art school, man! ;)

I remember being there when my sister was going through her angsty years- I was always much more even-keeled than she. I remember my mom's frustration with her, and her telling me about how much it sucked. Especially since, being an introverted "brain" myself, I hadn't prepared my mom for it. But we all got through, and I wonder if there was a voice of reason in your life that eventually prevailed. I like to think I was, for my sister, but a lot of it was at my mom's orchestration.

Sorry about whoring up your post with my experiences, I do have my own blog that I'm woefully neglecting!

[Frema]

Lauren (Art Nerd): If I could choose which mother to have for those teenage years, I'd still choose my mother, because as much as I tried to deny it, she WAS my prevailing force. Otherwise I would've had sex much earlier. And THAT is a scary thought.

[debi]

I cried through the entire thing. You brought back lots of memories for me. I was a teen in the 60's and 70's. My Mom found a letter to my boyfriend and it was so incriminating that I was sent to live in another town with a crazy friend of my Moms.(I was 15 or 16) I made the mistake of mentioning sex or something that made it obvious that I had been "doin it".I made the guy wait an entire year. We were engaged.(what a joke) My parents finally gave in since it was impossible to keep us apart. Funny thing, soon as they gave in I decided I was too young. Gee,ya think? I never wrote anything down after that. It seemed like asking for trouble. Thank you for sharing.

[Liza]

What a sweet, brave post. Thank you for sharing, both the young Frema, and the older Frema reflecting on her.

And Happy Birthday, Luke!

[Katie]

I forgot to comment on something very VERY important. You dumped Jordan for Joe? Can I assume that you're talking about Jordan Knight? And you thought Joe McIntyre was hotter? What were you thinking? Jordan is definitely the hottest, and though I haven't heard a NKOTB song since probably 1991, my loyalty to Jordan over the others will never change.

[TasterSpoon]

I think everybody has to go through those stages at some point, and thank goodness you went through them young, and learned, and moved on, wiser. I don't know how much parents can protect their girls. I went to an all-girls high school, all-women college...and found myself struggling through a Nick-type relationship at the age of 31. Of course looking back I was an idiot to "not give up" on the wrong guy for three years, but I think you have to learn that stuff first hand.

Congratulations on knowing what you're worth.

[Christar]

You are very brave to share this information! Growing up Catholic, I never understood why they were against controceptives.
But I have to say I find it admirable that you thought of the consequences. Most teenagers don't.