The Best Me

by Jane Moneypenny

Arthur Abbott: Iris, in the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You, I can tell, are a leading lady, but for some reason you are behaving like the best friend.

Iris: You’re so right. You’re supposed to be the leading lady of your own life, for god’s sake!

– The Holiday

My good friend Roseanne recently told me she was diagnosed with HPV a few years ago. She got it from her ex (and only partner) and it wasn’t the easy curable type, but the kind that could turn into cancer (or just fade away on its own). So she started running and eating healthy to get her body in the best shape to fight it off.

And that got me thinking about how I’ve worked really hard the last 7 years at being single and being the strongest person I can be on my own. I attack hobbies, throw myself into everything and push myself to go beyond my comfort zone– all in hopes that when I get hurt again, I’ll be in the best emotional state to fight it off and not fall down again.

But it doesn’t really work that way, does it? Things never really get easier, things never really change. No matter how strong I am, no matter how many hobbies I surround myself with, I still get hurt. My reactions and experiences may not be as shattering as they used to because of the padding I’ve surrounded myself with, but when someone shuts you down, it still feels like a punch to the gut.

I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn’t know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends… you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new. And you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.

– Iris, The Holiday