Enjoying Apathy

There isn't a doubt in my mind that I would like to be in a relationship—a long term, healthy, mutual and passionate relationship—with a man. Much of my life in the last couple years has been pruning away things in my life so that it is possible to be in such a relationship. But there is this interesting internal phenomenon that is happening inside of me and has been for the last few months—it’s a ridiculously large amount of apathy and disinterest in dating. Though I do not desire to sound prideful, getting a date has never been difficult for me (keeping on is a different story!) I know that if I want to go out with someone, regardless of my motivation, I could find someone by tonight. But it literally has no interest for me. 

I’ve gone through these periods in my life before, but there has always seemed like a purpose. I’ve taken months/seasons off of dating because I needed to work on a specific area of my life or I needed to heal from a previous relationship. I’ve taken time off from dating because I really struggled to believe that there were any good men out there and was actually angry. I’ve even gone through times where I have felt apathetic in dating but even then, the apathy seemed to rise up as a result of one of these other reasons also being present. This time it’s completely different. The thought of going on dates with someone or trying to develop a relationship really feels like the last thing in the world that I would want to do right now. 

I sat with a friend over coffee several weeks ago and discussed this weird experience. I consider her my second mother and know that she wants the best for me but she was shocked to hear this news and said with near horror, “do you think you just don’t want to get married?” I chuckled and assured her that I did still want to get married but there just wasn’t a lot of effort on my end to invest in potential relationships. 

I had to spend some time thinking about her question though—was it possible that I didn’t want to get married? I mean, I’ve had fleeting moments of that thought, and sometimes being married is even difficult to imagine, but generally speaking, my desire to be in a relationships consistently outweighs any of these passing thoughts! It wasn’t adding up however—the desire to be in a relationship but no desire to seek out a relationship. I feared I might be slipping back into my Purity Culture mentality where I need to just be patient and wait for God to send the right guy to my door (like the UPS guy…and I mean, it’s entirely possible since I am pretty sure I have an addiction to shopping on Amazon). Or perhaps it would be like one of those romantic comedy movies where I’m walking down the road reading a book (because, don’t we all do that?) and I bump into a guy who’s doing the same, we reach down to pick up our books, catch each other’s gaze above our thick rimmed glasses and get married a few months later at the local library. 

I chuckle at these scenarios, but in honesty, they aren’t too far off from what I think might need to happen at this point in my life to really think about investing in a relationship. And of course I think about that phrase of “when you’re not looking for it, it will happen”. I’ve tried to live by that slogan a million times before (because maybe, just maybe if I can convince myself that I'm not looking for someone then the Universe will bring someone my way!) but this time it’s the truth! Even the thought of someone coming into my life—even THE one—sounds a a bit annoying! 

For those of you who have journeyed along with me, you’re probably thinking that I must have gone off my rocker. But I assure you, I’m relatively sane! 

What I have come to figure out, however, is that for the first time in my life, I truly don’t think the biggest goal, hope or dream is being in a relationship. I think for so much of my life I have consciously or sub-consciously made this one of my top priorities; it’s always remained as a background motivation for so much of what I do. And while I have never thought that I have needed to reject that motivation, it seems that right now as I live day to day and pursue my goals and dreams, a relationship (even one that ends in marriage) holds no motivating factor at all. 

At the beginning of the year I made the statement that “2015 was my year” without really unpacking what that statement meant…because, truth be told, I had no idea what that meant. I still have no idea what it means fully. One thing I didn’t think it would mean? Having no interest in a relationship! But to be honest, it’s totally fine! What this seems to allow me to do is focus on areas of my life that I am quite passionate about but have never pursued for various reasons and in this I am finding more of myself and truly enjoying life. 

The coolest part about being able to enjoy life like this is that while the desire to have a relationship in the future is not absent, the apathy that I feel right now is not a mask for shame, loneliness or resentment. For whatever reason the apathy towards relationships is allowing me freedom to enter, with gusto, other areas of my life that I can only imagine will serve to further develop who I am. There are still a lot of moments of 2015 left and it’s still possible that some of those moments could be shared with someone else. But maybe not either. Maybe the saying above (that when I’m not looking for love, I’ll find it) is true and maybe it’s not. But for the first time it’s not about that. And my friends, as odd as it sounds, there is so much freedom in that. Truly, 2015 is seeming to be my year! 

Public Shaming While Getting a Pedicure

I’m looking at my nails as I type this blog—overgrown cuticles, a few jagged edges, little chips of polish on a few nails. Un-filed, overgrown, unkempt. I really should go get a manicure but the last experience I had at the place that I go to get my nails done has me a bit skittish to go back. 

The last time I went to get my nails done was to get a pedicure about  2 1/2 months ago. It was the middle of winter and given how cold natured I am, my feet don’t see the light of day unless I am showering or switching out my pair of socks before I put  my slippers back on. No one sees my feet—not even me. But on that day I just wanted to get a pedicure—well truth be told, I really wanted the leg and foot massage and a chance to sit in one of those massage chairs for an hour—the polish was just the way to get there. 

So I went to the place about a mile from my house; and let me remind you, I went in fully knowing that the benefits of my pedicure three months prior had definitely worn off! The woman doing my pedicure asked me which type of pedicure I would like that day and I chose the basic package. She tried for a minute to upsell me but I stuck to my guns, even though I did promise her that the next time I came in I would go for the next level up. As she began her work on my feet she kept looking at me to tell me what terrible feet I had, how she couldn’t believe I had let them get so bad and how I really needed to take care of them and of course how buying the most expensive pedicure package would take care of it! Just 15 minutes prior I had been confident that my pasty white feet were simply a result of the previous 3 months of winter and all of the sudden I started to feel self conscious. 

As she continued on with each step of the pedicure process she seemed to make it painfully obvious to me that my feet needed a lot of work done. About half way through the pedicure she asked if I wanted a manicure. I mumbled something about not having time that day as she began telling me the same things about my hands as she did my feet. I think I literally started sweating in the chair! My hour of relaxation was quickly turning into an hour of being shamed. I calmly repeated that the basic pedicure was all I wanted for that day and after a few more attempts, she relinquished and continued working on my feet. Peace, at last. 

I mean, ya would have thought I was sporting something like this!

After getting the hot towels—my favorite part of the pedicure—she sat back down in her chair and told me that I really needed to wax my upper lip. I’ll admit, I was fully aware of that. I wasn’t growing a mustache or anything but I knew I was about due, but I also have a wax pot at home so I was going to do it myself. Fearing the further shame that I might incur if I declined this offer as well, I agreed to let her wax my upper lip. As she started the lip waxing process she told me I could also benefit from having my eyebrows done. By this point I was over the whole process and told her, firmly, “NO”. I mean seriously people, I have super thin and super light eye brows…I even color them once a month so that they match my dark hair and even when they are ‘overgrown’ I’m no Freida! 

I quickly paid for my services (and likely gave way too large of a tip for the badgering I received!) and got out of there. As I trudged back to my car in those little styrofoam flip flops I caught myself crunching numbers to see how I might be able to swing a monthly mani/pedi in my budget—apparently I was in dire need. I pulled on the calculator in my phone and began to do the math when I realized how deeply this experience was effecting me. I do fully realize that this woman was simply doing her job—the more services she offered the more she got paid; this was a business transaction for her. But in ‘doing her job’ I left left the nail salon feeling terrible about myself and thinking about all of the things that I needed to prioritize in my physical appearance to be more appealing to the public. I admit, I even thought that perhaps paying more attention to the details might earn me a few dates with respectable guys!

The beauty industry is a multi-billion dollar industry. Every day we are bombarded by messages, commercials and even our friends, family and co-workers that all seem to have something that we don’t—their hair, their outfit, those arms, that pair of boots, that jewelry, that color of nail polish. Advertisers do their jobs by getting us to believe that if we have whatever product it is that they are selling we will be the pinnacle of whatever lifestyle goal we are trying to achieve.

I would even venture to say that we know this to an extent. We know that washing our hair with Herbal Essence’s shampoo and conditioner will not draw men to us like a Siren and yet we see those commercials and there is a little voice in our head that wonders “well…maybe…” And so we continue our trek to add value to ourselves through the mediums sold to us by commercials, in magazines and quirky women at the nail salon. 

I mean really, is having a monthly mani/pedi really going to make me a better therapist? Is it going to improve my writing skills? Is it going to make me a more compassionate friend or help me seek after social justice in a more innovative way? Is this going to make me a better lover, more honest or more authentic? Likely not. And yet I get caught up believing that these external markers of beauty (which are culturally induced and defined—and subjective) are the things that are going to push me to the top and really give me the edge on my competitors.

I’m not suggesting that we let ourselves go or even that looking nice, taking pride in how one looks or having nice, expensive or unique things is a bad thing. Getting our nails done, our hair colored or getting our legs waxed is perfectly fine. But these are not the things that are going to add to our value as an individual.  

I would imagine that when we let these external, subjective markers of beauty be the definers of who we are as a person, we will have many more sweaty moments on the massage chair. Truth be told, I’m probably going to get a pedicure this weekend—spring is right around the corner and with sandal season upon us, my gnarly feet need a little bit of attention. I think this time though I might bring some music and ear buds with me so that I don’t get caught up in pondering the manicurists words and find myself seriously considering that the answer to all life’s problems would be solved through the color of my toenails.

Playboy and The Virgins

I think it’s safe to say I have a little Bachelor withdrawal…even watching Prince Farming on Dancing with the Stars isn’t quite as enjoyable as watching the ladies on the Bachelor. So I figured maybe I could ease out of my withdrawal by writing about an aspect of the show that really left an impact on me this season. 

One of the biggest story lines this season on the Bachelor was the past sexual activity—or inactivity—of the girls on the show. In an unprecedented move we had Jade who posed nude for playboy and Ashely I. and Becca who were virgins casted as contestants. While I am confident that in signing up for a reality TV show you also sign over the rights to your story (meaning that the producers can portray you and your story however they feel would make for the best TV), I think you would be hard pressed to find anyone who didn’t believe that the story of the playboy model and the virgin(s) were waaaaay overplayed. 

Besides the fact that these are mere choices that these women have made with their lives, the story lines created for the show created almost a pseudo-identity for each of these women that focused on only one aspect of who they were versus the totality of their character, life experiences, values and passions. Jade will forever be known as the girl who posed for playboy. Ashely I. will always be known as the girl who was a virgin and claimed it wasn’t a big deal while simultaneously becoming overly emotional about telling people. Becca will be known as the virgin who accepted a date to the Fantasy Suite. And for that, I am sad. I don’t know these girls personally but I feel entirely confident saying there is way more to them than this minute detail of their life. But now they are judged upon one thing. 

I think the reason this concept irritates me so much is because I have felt the same way in my own relationships. 

As a kid growing up in a very rigid religious culture, I remember hearing people’s stories (or testimonies, as we called them) of being steeped in a sinful lifestyle (drugs, sex, rock n’ roll…ya know all the cliches) and how God had swooped them up and saved them and their lives were changed. In some ways I was envious of their stories because they sounded so powerful and moving. Many times I was genuinely bummed that I wouldn’t have a story so powerful—I didn’t believe that someone could hear my story and see any necessity to believe in God. 

Fast forward a couple decades and life has changed significantly. Life has led me down some interesting paths and among other things I definitely have a story. And while I no longer believe that my story needs to necessarily be a “testimony” in someone else’s life, I do find that it can be quite powerful at times as I connect with others, empathize and encourage. I do have a deep understanding that my story is not me, my identity or the totality of who I am. But as I have entered into the world of relationships, I have found that other people believe the opposite to be true. 

If you’ve read my blog for any length of time you know that there are some sensitive parts of my life that people could have strong opinions about. My own journey in healing has taught me to be ok with these things, understand the impact and how to move forward. So for me, I am ok with my story. And part of my journey has also taught me that people need to earn the right to hear my story—a couple dates doesn’t warrant a place in my life to know all my deepest, darkest secrets and so I am cautious regarding with whom, what and how much of my story I share.

It never ceases to amaze me though how quickly the tone in a relationship can shift by people knowing little bits and pieces of my story as they begin to use that information to make assumptions about all of me. More than once I have been accused of projecting my past relationships onto current relationships because I have identified something that I have been triggered by or a preference that I have (known to me based on the work that I have done) that morphs into the person viewing me through a specific lens. I have been told on numerous occasions even that because I don’t feel comfortable sharing my story that it’s an indicator that I am not over it and “still have work to do”. I have even been broken up with by a guy because he wanted “…just once to not date someone who had been in an unhealthy relationship…” (I can’t help but wonder if he’s still single).

Suddenly, regardless of the amount that I share with that person, a cloud of judgement covers me as the other person now sees me through the lens of how he thinks a person with my past should act. It happened on the Bachelor…Chris expressed significant concern to hear that Becca had never been in love, said I love you or had sex. He wondered if she would really be able to handle a relationship like that. On more than one occasion he seriously questioned his relationship with her based on these facts alone. 

To be honest, I don’t carry shame and regret for the things that are in my past. Though I have had to process through a lot, I have much confidence that going through these things and healing from them are part of what makes me who I am. And I kinda like who I am! I wouldn’t trade the experiences I have had if it also meant I had to trade who I am now. But despite my confidence in myself and not carrying shame, guilt or non-acceptance for my story, I still find myself a bit fearful that other’s will not offer me the same grace. I do fear that someone would hear my story about being in an abusive relationship and handle it disrespectfully, with insincerity, projection or lacking in compassion; I worry that they will think I am too much to handle because of that one piece of my story instead of viewing me for all of who I am. 

I understand the process of snap judgement—it used to be something I was really good at, and you would be hard pressed to get me to change my opinion. I made judgements about people based on their past, what they were wearing, the types of jokes they would laugh at, the movies they watched, their sexual choices, the places they would go on dates, how often they went to church. I would take one small detail of who they were and let it grow and expand into a blanket that covered them and was the lens I would see them through. It was a regular habit of mine and I have worked hard to bring awareness, understanding and change to that so that I might view people with acceptance, compassion, curiosity and common humanity.  Perhaps it’s naive of me to think that because I strive to do this that others would do the same, but I remain hopeful that it could happen. 

I remember early on in my healing process I shared with my therapist that the previous weekend I was supposed to go on a second date with a guy who, the night before, had gotten drunk and was hungover. When he asked me to drive an hour to spend the day with him at his house instead of coming to my town per our original plans I was very triggered (based off of many similar situations in my abusive relationship). I recognized this immediately and explained to him that I didn’t feel like it was a good idea and being with someone who was hungover (on a second date, mind you) was something that felt really uncomfortable to me. He laid into me—told me I was projecting other relationships on to him, that I had unresolved issues, that I wasn’t at a place in my life to have a relationship and then gave me the silent treatment the rest of the day. I was absolutely flabbergasted at what had happened! My therapist stopped me at this point in the story and said “wait a second, so he judged you without even knowing you?” “Yes, I suppose he did,” I quietly answered. She looked at me with compassion in her eyes and said “if he treated you like that based off of that situation, can you imagine how poorly it could have gone if you shared your story with him?” 

She was right…he would not have been a good candidate to share those personal matters with; I abruptly ended the relationship. It became clear to me that day, and it’s something that I have to remind myself of over and over again, that if someone chooses to judge me based on one aspect of who I am—whether it’s my past, a value choice I make, a boundary or anything else—then he is clearly not worth my time. Yes, that’s way easier said than done; it can feel excruciatingly painful to have to end a relationship for those reasons, but I guess the way I see it is that the ending of that relationship gets me one step closer (or one guy closer) to finding a relationship with someone who not only accepts every part of me but embraces it and counts it an honor to be trusted with my story.