Change, Optional?

We've had discussions about lofting our mattress. We anticipated the arrival of Reverend Austin. To accommodate him, it made sense to hoist our mattress so that he sleep beneath us and avoid the any sleep disturbances caused by slumbering in the high traffic living room. To do so required getting rid of the bed frame, a platform, and one I've had for over a decade.

The loft idea fell by the wayside and wasn't given a second thought. The Reverend came, made himself cozy on our couch, and hasn't complained once. Last week, he built the loft out of scrap wood, packed it up, and zipped it down to us, resurrecting the plan and sending me into a complete tizzy.

I pride myself on my ability to accept change. I roll with it, welcome it, and accept it with only a modicum of apprehension.

Right?

In reality, I resist change. I sanction it with silence, withhold excitement, and withdraw. My first change embargo happened when Rachel wanted to combine our incomes and work as a team toward our financial goals. I resisted, using my credit card debt as an excuse. I even went so far as to deny her my savings, savings that would have helped her get out of her cash hemorrhaging condo. A move, I might add, that would have benefited us both.

I'm sure my reticence had something to do with my fear of intimacy. Symptoms of Male's Disease whose delirium includes a deep paranoia of female hidden agendas. Part of me was convinced she would squander my earnings. My mind changed when it dawned on me that if anyone was squandering, it was Visa and MasterCard. Once I relented, rara paid off my debt within six months.

Another momentous hurdle for Rachel to overcome was moving. Long had I lamented about my desire to leave Salem and its high polluting, coal burning, power plant. It took Rachel close to a year to get me out.

So many people have bestowed upon me accolades for overcoming so much adversity in my life, when in fact I merely survived. It's true that I have worked hard not to repeat my transgressions. To do so takes thorough examination, self actualization, and hard choices. I still feel as though I'm in flux, pushing hard to shed the false beliefs that hold me back. Tragedy, it seems, is easier to weather than the simple changes, life on life's terms.

As for the loft, it took a rare moment of honesty. Feeling cornered I yelled, "Excuse me, in case you two haven't noticed, I don't accept change very well. I love that bed frame. Do you have any idea how many coke binges I've slept off in that bed?"

They both laughed, then proceeded to store the loft in the basement, where it mocks me.