I am trying to stick with the theme of my blog here, if there is a theme to it at all, which is to write about my feelings and discover/uncover/recover parts of my Self. It’s tempting to write about my days here in Belgium with some flowery, romantic language, and tell you detail by detail what I am doing and who said what and who did what. Certainly, the activities and experiences of my day bring out my feelings and emotions and different aspects of Lisa.

My temptation is to strongly criticize that which I do not understand about this foreign culture… about him, in particular, which would turn this blog into a glorified bitch session.

Instead, I choose to try to stick to the underlying issues and what is going on inside of me during this extraordinary traveling experience.

The word of the week is R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

Do you have it? How do you get it? Do you give it? To whom, and for what reason? When do you take it away?

As a woman, I don’t care much about being respected. I want my kids to respect me. I want to have self-respect. I guess I want respect from my colleagues, too. But do I care if a man respects me? Not so much. It’s not high on my list. “Cherish me” is at the top. I don’t so much care if you think I’m a dumb blonde, because I know otherwise, and I am quite secure in that. 🙂

I am noticing a direct connection between respect and cherishing, as I have said before. If my respect wanes at all, cherishing is withheld, or so it seems to me. It’s not in a vindictive way – no, I think it’s at a subconscious level for him – simply a reaction. The same is true for the reverse.

So it would seem to me that respect is something I am able to give or withhold consciously, and maybe sometimes it’s only my mood that is affecting my feelings about that.

Perhaps I distrust my original character assessment, and at times, I question whether or not the respect is deserved… but ultimately, it seems that my gut serves me well, and I think it’s true that he is worthy of it. It’s only my eyes that change… my perspective and how I choose to see a particular event or situation… respect seems to be a choice – my choice. As Keith says in his comment on my previous post, for him, it is a gift he gives. I decide to whom I shall give this gift. I decide who is worthy or not.


This morning I am considering the idea that if I am made up of a “population of selves,” then likewise, he is also, and therefore, maybe I respect some of his “selves” and not others. This seems to be a good explanation for my yo-yo emotions of the week.

I like it.

So, while I am discovering my own personalities, I am being introduced to his personalities, and some of us don’t get along very well. But those fleeting moments fade quickly when two of us join who are compatible, respecting and cherishing one another, which seems to take us to some spiritual level of communication that disregards all cultural and personality differences.

Passionate, multi-cultural romance at its best.

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