Triangle Man

“Triangle man. Triangle man. Triangle man hates particle man. They have a fight. Triangle wins. Triangle man.” --They Might Be Giants “Particle Man.”

What if I’m a triangle? What if I’ve always been a triangle, but let other people tell me I wasn’t? Let’s rewind my story back to when it all fell apart (or appeared to) and look at the three points of my triangle: my religion, my marriage and my job.

“A triangle trying to squeeze through a circle, they tried to cut me so I’d fit.” Missy Higgins “Scar”

All aspects of my life felt like that. Nothing fit. I was walking around like Chris Farley’s fat guy in a little coat. My triangle got jammed into a prayer circle growing up. I went with it. Christianity all the way. But, I never felt it. I felt great when I followed the rules, but felt shitty when I screwed up. It was my effort or lack thereof that made me feel rather than what it should have been…God’s grace.

One day at church I said, “Jesus, I’m out…come get me if you’re real.” I couldn’t keep up the charade. I was literally a misfit. I was a triangle. They were circles. I played the game for too long. Trying to act like the circles. Trying to fit in. I didn’t fit. I couldn’t see it at the time, but that was actually okay. They can do their religion the way they do it. And I’ll do things my own way.

It took being on the outside of the circle for me to experience grace in a real way. One of the things you don’t want to do as a Christian is butt dial your wife from a strip club. That happened. I’m not proud of it, but it’s real. I made friends with people that worked at a strip club. And you know what? It was so fucking refreshing.

They were fucked up. And admitted it. My whole life was fucked up, but I felt so much more free telling other fucked up people my problems than I did telling people from church. I suddenly fit. These strippers were triangles. Like me. The strip club was like church for fucked up people. The men worshipped the girls and the girls worshipped the money, but somehow in the midst of the lies and the fake I got some real.

But, the real was short lived, because I was still married and still had the church people in my life. And my decision to befriend strippers wasn’t a popular one with that group of friends.

But, the fact was there was a girl I met at the club who made me want to be a better person. So, I went to therapy, because I knew I needed help. And when I got to my 80 year old therapist’s office she had a big picture of Jesus on the wall. And I thought, “Well shit…my story about strippers is not going to go well.” But, I was done trying to pretend. I was ready to be real.

So I told her the whole story. I told her how dead I was. How depressed I was. How isolated and alone I felt. And I told her about my friend from the strip club who smiled at me and made me want to turn things around. And she said, “Matt it sounds like the stripper is an angel.”

And I wept. Hard.

All the religion I grew up with made me expect judgment in that moment. But, what I got was grace. Real grace. And it literally overwhelmed me. “Jesus…come get me if you’re real,” I had said. I wasn’t really expecting that to happen at a strip club, but what if it did? That’s the type of God that makes sense to me. A God with a sense of humor. A God that is creative.

I know what I felt all those years trying to be a Christian. And I know what I felt when I admitted how fucked up I was, yet still somehow got grace. Night and day. I love my life now. I’m a sinner. I fuck up. A lot. But, I also care about improving and to do that I can’t just go through the motions or do things exactly like everyone else. I’m me man. And there’s so much freedom in that. Because the God I believe in…that’s what he wants for us. He made us. To be ourselves. Not to be squeezed into a shape that doesn’t fit.

Which is what my marriage was…we were two shapes that didn’t line up. It’s not my place to talk shit on my ex-wife. She’s my kid’s mom and they love her. I have nothing against her. But, man I was a triangle trying to squeeze into that wedding band. It just wasn’t a good fit.

We were both miserable by the end. Why keep living life like that? What we were showing our beautiful kids about love was bullshit. I’m a better dad now than I ever could have been if I had continued to sleepwalk through that marriage. And I’m sure she’s a better mom too.

I’m a triangle. She’s a circle. We didn’t fit. So we freed ourselves to be happier and healthier down the road. There was so much heartache and pain on both sides. But, it had to be done. The religion I grew up with said divorce isn’t an option, but again I know what I’ve felt and experienced on this side of the marriage. There’s actual evidence of growth these days, but together we were stuck.

Stuck was exactly how I felt in my job as well. My degree is in English. I ended up sitting in a cube for five years pretending to be a financial analyst. It was as awful as it sounds. Not that finance is bad. Or that cube life is bad. But, it is bad when you're a creative type wearing an analyst costume. The circle analogy kind of gets lost in the cube and that’s where I was. Friggin lost.

I did the job so that we could have the house and pay the bills and that’s not uncommon. We all have to work. That’s life. But, I was already struggling in the facets of life that I mentioned above…religion wasn’t working and the marriage wasn’t happy, so add to that 40ish hours of professional life that seemed to suck the creative right out of me and I was pretty damn miserable.

But, then I got great news. I was going to be laid off. Severence. Freedom. Unemployment. Anything other than what I was doing sounded great. But, at the last minute I was asked to interview for an accounting job. The interview was completely backwards. I tried to convince them that I was an English major and they tried to convince me that I was an accountant. Triangle did not win. I got the job.

It didn’t last long. I started blogging about my ridiculous life on twohitwonder.blogspot.com and ended up getting fired for it, mainly because of a video I did about how close together the urinals were in the men’s room. That’s not a video accountants are supposed to make. I tried to tell them I wasn’t one. :)

But, now I get to be the triangle I’m meant to be. Someone posted on facebook today that the best part about a bad dream is that you get to wake up. That’s how I feel…like I’m waking up from the life I used to sleepwalk through. I’m not part of the Christian club. I’m no longer married. And I’m definitely no accountant. And those are all good things for me. Because I'm a triangle, man.