Closing the Door

As I have noted in other blog posts I have written, I am someone who values symbolism in most everything. And if something does not have apparent symbolism, I am sure to find it! 

To this end, New Years has always been a relieving time for me. It’s the time of year where we are offered new beginnings, a chance to start new habits and move on from the year—which is often times very welcome if the previous year has been a rough one. 2014 has been just the type of year I had hoped for it to be. Coming off of a few years of tumultuous relationships and figuring things out, 2014 seemed to be a brighter year from the beginning; it was this gut feeling I had that 2014 would not be like the years past. I’m happy to say, sitting on the tail end of 2014, that I was right. Now, don’t get me wrong, this year was filled with a TON of changes, processing and difficult endeavors, but each one of those experiences produced strength, vulnerability, confidence and healing in a different sort of way than in years past. 

Normally sometime after Thanksgiving each year I sit down, journal in hand, and think about all the things that I want to accomplish in the next year. I love lists, so I break down my goals into categories (financial, personal, professional, physical fitness, etc.) and dream of all the things that I would love to accomplish by the end of the next calendar year. This year, however, it felt different. As I looked over many of the goals I had set for myself in 2014, I was sadly dismayed by the number of boxes that I got to check off…or rather the lack of boxes that I checked off. Under normal circumstances this might lead to a slight berating of myself; I have a pretty high level of expectation that I typically feel I need to achieve. Call it change, awareness or Divine intervention, as I looked at the amount of unchecked boxes as compared to what was checked, I felt a strange sense of peace in knowing that I had accomplished exactly what I needed to accomplish this year. Nothing less and nothing more. Though many of the things on the list had not been accomplished as I sat and pondered over the year I realized that what I had “accomplished” spiritually, emotionally, personally and professionally was far  more than any list could encompass. 

This got me thinking. As much as the New Year is a time of setting goals for what the upcoming year should look like and what I should seek to accomplish, perhaps the New Year is also about letting go of the things that don’t really matter and instead embracing exactly where you are at. I’m not talking about being lazy or lacking ambition but rather recognizing the expectations and hustle I place on myself and seeking instead, enjoyment in how far you have come. Maybe the new year is about closing doors—closing doors to past behaviors, relationships and chapters of life. And yes, while the closing of one door inevitably leads to opening a new door, maybe the focus is not so much on what door needs to be opened next but rather the simple recognition and celebration of understanding what needs to be let go of and closed. 

Around the end of the summer I had this weird, yet pervasive, thought that 2015 was going to be my year. I don’t totally know what that means yet (I’ll tell you about this time next year). As I dreamed about it’s possibilities I thought perhaps that 2015 would be about losing weight, finding a lasting relationship, working on writing a book or perhaps even having a certain amount of money in savings (all themes that have made the list before and gone unaccomplished to some extent). Mentally I even began creating goals around these things and a path of how to get there. I quickly caught myself though and wondered if 2015 was indeed my year, then perhaps how I started the year needed to be different than how other years began. I can’t help but wonder if 2015 being “my year” means letting go of all the things that I think I need to achieve and closing that door of my life. The door that represents striving, perfectionism, expectation, shame, anxiety and the hustle of life. Maybe closing that door represents acceptance and not changing a darn thing about myself! Maybe closing that door even means that I take on less, that I do what I love and that I make taking care of myself one of my top priorities. Closing the door then means that it’s less about a list of what I should do and more about being ok with all the things I don’t really need to do. 

The “Seize the Day” part of me struggles with this new mentality. While it knows that not making a list of goals doesn’t mean I’ll sit in front of the TV instead, this part is chomping at the bit to take action even when I think about taking a year and doing the things that I love (or maybe even figuring out what it is that I love!) I’m working on nurturing this part, offering gratitude for the ambition and motivation it gives me and reassuring it that by it not having to work so hard there is a possibility of laughing more, having fun, enjoying the present moment and living with a sense of peace and serenity. And when that part can be reigned in and I am able to sit in the present moment, there is a clear recognition that the last few years have brought about tremendous change in every area of my life and I really like who I am. And I think maybe that’s what 2015 being my year is all about…

So whatever this year is for you, dear reader—whether it is closing out on the worst year of your life, being hopeful about the new year with new goals and ambitions or somewhere in between, my hope for you is that you can rest in each present moment and that 2015 will be your year.

The Masks We Wear - Part 2

In the last blog I posted, I talked about the different masks that we wear as those of us who are over 30, single and in the dating world. The Mask of Cynicism was our first stop and as I thought about the other masks that I have worn in the years of my singleness, it is becoming even more evident to me that the Cynic Mask has seemingly become my actual face, with other masks being placed over top. So my new hypothesis is that none of these masks that we will talk about today (or in future blog posts) can exist without the Cynic playing it’s important role. We’ll talk about two different masks in this blog: The Victim Mask and the Mask of Shame. (P.S. This is a long one…but I promise, it’s worth the read!)

“It’s not me, it’s you” —The Victim

I’ve been told my entire life, by many (even guys that I have dated!), that I am a “great girl who deserves a great guy”. I’ve been told to keep my standards high, to not lower my expectations. I’ve been told, by well meaning friends and family, that if the guy disappeared, walked away or wasn’t interested, it was truly his loss. And while this seemed to pacify the situation a bit, and truly add some perspective, it also created a nice way of coping with being single: I could blame (even subconsciously) every break up, every failed relationship, every mistake on him since I was such a great girl and he still walked away.

Placing blame on the other person for the demise of the relationship has become a very natural thing to do. As women, when it comes to relationships, we are expert analyzers with selective vision. After the break up, we go into research-mode, dissecting every move he made, everything he said; every “what if” and possibility is brought to the table and we create a myriad of hypothetical reasons for his leaving. It’s during this search that we tell ourselves we are just looking for closure so then we can truly move on. Interestingly enough all of this reasoning has to do with finding an explanation to him and his actions; rarely do we take into account our own part in it. We see ourselves, usually, as the heroic girlfriend with unending patience and commitment who was ready to fight for the relationship in order to see if it would stand the test of time…it was him that wasn’t willing to commit, it was him who couldn’t handle communicating like an adult, it was him who would’t share his thoughts, emotions and feelings (that you obviously had to pull out of him).  We were there, waiting for him, and then he walked away. This happening to me again was just “proof” that I was too good for him, that I was way ahead of him and if he couldn’t see what he was going to miss by giving me up, then it was truly his (ignorant) loss. And I may have told myself a time or too that he would come back after he realized what he gave up.  

A sweet friend of mine (who got married much later than the cultural norm, and therefore understands what it’s like to be a bit older and single) and I were talking about the string of guys over the last couple years that I had the “pleasure” of going on dates with.  For varying reasons the one-date-wonders and relationships didn’t work, and, as mentioned previously, six of them have now disappeared from my life entirely with no warning, reason or explanation. As the conversation wore on, she humbly and ever so sweetly said “ya know, you’re a great girl and you’ve got your stuff together; so why is it that these guys keep leaving you? Is there a chance, even a slight one, that YOU’RE part of the reason?” Because I respect her a ton and we have an awesome friendship, I could hear these words and know that they were coming from a place of wanting the best for me. And the fact of the matter is, she was right…I am the common denominator in all of my failed relationships. 

[Side Note: Regardless of my own incorrect handling of the relationship (I am the first to say that I made mistakes, was too intense, went too fast, etc.), simply disappearing on someone with no explanation is a pretty shitty thing to do. Man or woman, if you’re gonna break up with someone, at least give that person the respect of having an ending conversation; there is much respect in being an adult!]

Now, I am all for equal responsibility in relationships. I don’t feel the need to take responsibility for guys that manipulated me into believing they wanted a relationship when really they just wanted sex. Nor do I need to take responsibility for a guy’s life stage, commitment ability (or lack-thereof)…those things are on him. And how he deals with them (appropriately or inappropriately) are on him too. 

But, if after every failed relationship (regardless of the reason for failure or the method of exit), my analytical research does not also reveal where I need to do some tweaking, then, to put it bluntly, I am living in denial. If you were to look up denial in the dictionary, there are about 8 different definitions that pop up. The last definition of denial is something to the effect of: “…a defense mechanism we use in order to keep us from seeing reality, for if we did see reality as it truly was, it would seem consciously intolerable.” Ouch. When put like that, it means that every time he walked out and I blamed it on him and analyzed his every move before the escape, there is the potential that the focus on him acts as a blinder to seeing that perhaps I might have had something to do with it. 

Failure to look at your own part in any relationship (or situation) keeps reality hidden and ultimately can lead to wearing the Victim Mask.  

Which leads to that question of “how do I take the mask off?” 

Well first of all, you’ve gotten through the hardest part! If you notice that you are wearing the Victim Mask you are no longer living in total denial. You can’t change anything that you don’t know you need to change, so congratulations! And really, the next step is in that definition of denial from above:

Be accurate and honest; take responsibility.

Again, I need to clarify that it’s not our job to take responsibility for other people’s actions that were harming to us…that’s where the accuracy part comes in. Look at the relationship and be accurate about where the responsibility lies. Be honest about how the relationship went, the roles, the responses, the communication, the emotions, the conflict, the hurt. Assign responsibility to the appropriate party, including yourself. When we choose honesty, we are no longer able to stand ignorantly by and continue placing blame on unwarranted parties without also looking at ourselves and what needs to be refined in us to make us a healthier individual.  

Not saying this is easy, but doesn’t it seem like someone who holds themselves to this standard might attract someone of the same standards? Food for thought…

Mask of Shame -“I’m not ____________ enough”

I admit, this mask could take up an entire blog, and I am confident that shame will be expounded on in further posts as shame is universal. I don’t care what your gender, ethnicity, age, relationship status, career or house looks like, we all deal with shame on a daily basis.

As I have continued to live my days, more single than not, shame takes on all sorts of different forms and faces. Shame seems to be a hot topic in our culture now. Author and researcher Brene Brown has brought this topic to the forefront of people’s minds…not because it has just recently become an epidemic, but because for too many years it has remained locked up inside each one of us, festering and growing bigger; taking over our lives and relationships and in many ways, debilitating us. 

Wearing the Mask of Shame is not an overt or highly external mask. While there have been times where I have begged others for answers to the question of “why does this keep happening to me?!?!?”, this conversation usually happens in my mind.  In bewilderment I ask bitter questions that only reinforce the desire for relationship and the empty space in my life. It’s easy here for the Cynic Mask to swoop in (again, as a defense mechanism) to try and help soothe the situation, but it usually ends up sounding a lot like shame. Unfortunately, it seems like the answers to these questions are all to commonly phrases like “…it’s because I’m not good enough”, “…because I’m not pretty enough”, “…because I’m not ___________ enough”. And we all know what it feels like to not feel ____________ enough: absolutely devastating. It’s a yucky place to be and while we surely want to get out of that pit, it almost seems too daunting to even try. All of our insecurities rise to the surface and we find ourselves sinking deeper into the muck. 

Being single, or single again, in your 30’s and beyond adds an entirely different dynamic to this mask. For me personally, as much as I have been able to settle in to who I am and, in most moments, genuinely like it, reality hits quickly when I gain 5 pounds by just looking at a cupcake, when I notice a few more gray hairs, when I spend weekend evenings alone with my boyfriend Boda (as in Boda Box…of wine…) or even when I wonder why I find it so important to make my house look nice and clean for just me. Because in this reality, that little gremlin of shame creeps up and starts to paint my reality in an even more dismal light; it goes from simply noticing where I am at/what is going on to these people/places/things/events becoming the defining factor of who I am. 

Shame makes it personal and daunting. 

In some ways I have to wonder if shame is trying to act as a protector. I know in the moments when I feel not ____________ enough, I become hell bent on doing something about it. I figure that if I can do something about this message of shame, then perhaps I can alleviate the enormous pressure. So I figure out what all it is that is not good enough and go to work…trying to numb out that nagging voice of shame. Just writing that last sentence makes me exhausted—probably because that pace of life is exhausting and I know it all too well! But this striving keeps me running; it keeps me isolated, believing that I am the only one who feels like this and it turns me on myself—I become my own worst critic. 

So then, in the context of relationships, shame finds a doorway in to our soul whenever we are engaged with someone who is emotionally unavailable, distancing themselves, leaving us, breaking up with us, treating us disrespectfully, de-valuing us, cheating on us or just, plain uncommitted to us. Shame makes it about me, shame makes me question myself and then shame isolates me. “…What is wrong with me?” continually loops through my mind.

Part of the reason for this blog is to help me and to help you take off this mask of shame. If the job of shame is to isolate us, then this blog is to band us together and to speak and hear a message that you are not alone. I am not alone. I don’t know the unique details of your story, but I do understand hurt. I understand what it’s like to feel lonely, to be sad and to be scared. I know what it’s like to feel angry for whatever place of life you are at (because it’s not where you imagined you should be). I understand how terrible and devastating it is and feels to be cheated on, abandoned, rejected and lied to. While we are each beautifully unique we are also, equally, beautifully connected on a soul level—and this is the opposite of isolation. Empathy…that soul level familiar connection we have…kills shame. 

“Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”  —Brene Brown

I Will Fight for Me

Well, we have survived another season of The Bachelor. Survived seems like the right way to put it…from the bachelor being wishy washy, two faced, hypocritical and downright rude, Juan Pablo has been referred to as the “worst bachelor ever”.  While I wasn’t too impressed with him, the purpose of this blog isn’t to give my opinions on what he should or should not have done, but rather to focus on the girl he “rejected” at the Final Rose Ceremony. Clare.

I have to admit, even though Clare was a bit intense at times and she chose to step out of the limo that first night sporting a VERY large baby bump, I liked her. As the season wore on and she received criticism from social media, what became more apparent to me is that his 32 year old hairdresser was more like me than I wanted to initially admit. While I might not go on a TV show to find love (to all my friends who keep encouraging me to apply…sorry!), Clare represented my demographic. 

Clare began the season telling viewers that her heart was ice…not because she wanted it to be, but because life had served her experiences and relationships that made it easier to become cold and frigid rather than getting hurt one more time. Throughout the season she would reference back to that heart of ice as she put herself out there, expressed her feelings and slowly started to let the ice melt. She expressed her fear and anxiety, her hesitation, her love, her excitement, her frustration. She was visibly irritated when other girls would get time with Juan Pablo, she looked for opportunities to spend time with him, she was crushed when Juan Pablo turned the tables on her and blamed her for a late night swim in the ocean. She clearly spent time thinking about the relationship, she looked for ways to respect Juan Pablo and slowly but surely allowed herself to fall for this man. 

Now, this most certainly could have been a storyline for TV; but either Clare is a fabulous actor, or she was just being her. And I tend to believe the latter. But while America laughed at Clare, I cheered for her (even if it was silently!) See, I am very much like Clare. I too fear that I have a heart of ice. 

As I sat in my therapist’s office a couple weeks ago, I shared with her my fear that, even though I didn’t experience anxiety or even a significant amount of sadness over the last guy who left, the next guy who came along was having to start with a major disadvantage even though he, himself, hadn’t done anything. It truly made me sad that this string of guys who have been so flippant with who I am have caused me to crawl back into my turtle shell a bit and at the very least remain skeptical. I’m not a man hater, I still believe in relationships; in fact, I have great hope that I will be in one with a man who is amazing, but it is difficult to not let your heart freeze just a little bit when that rejection comes…one. more. time. 

I cheered right along with the audience as Clare refused a hug from Juan Pablo after he rejected her; her response to him was strong and honest; it left no questions. She held it together as she walked away from Juan Pablo, narrowly escaping his under the breath statement, “whew, glad I didn’t choose her!” (Don’t even get me started on how infuriating that statement was; or how telling of his character!) After hugging the host of the show, Chris Harrison, Clare gave a heartfelt interview on what it was like for her to stand alone. Again. Her words, “…Where’s the man that makes me feel like I am worthy? Where’s the man that will fight for me?” made my heart ache as I saw myself in her, leaving that island, wondering how to put all the pieces back together. 

After a few more minutes of watching Juan Pablo do what he does best…be himself…the “After the Final Rose” special began to air. Even through the TV screen, you could feel the tension, the awkwardness and a cloud of confusion as people tried to figure out what had just happened. Without wasting time, Chris Harrison told viewers that Clare would be the first to be interviewed. I admit, I was a bit apprehensive. I expected Clare to come out and talk about how betrayed, rejected and used she felt. And to be honest, she would have had every right to do so; no one would have questioned a sad and utterly confused response from a jaded Clare. But that’s not what she did.

Juan Pablo being...Juan Pablo.."eeesss ok!"

Clare walked on stage, looking stunning, and honestly and articulately shared that while she was sad, and being rejected was not something she enjoyed, she did not need time with Juan Pablo to try and get answers (or, as she put it, “get fed with more BS”). Her secret in all of this? It was standing up for herself that moment she walked away from Juan Pablo. It was, as she stated during the “After the Final Rose” special, being able to, for the first time, stand up for herself and say exactly how she felt and exactly what she thought. Her ability to fight for herself was what allowed her the closure she needed to move on from this relationship. 

That statement really hit home with me. I have felt, the older I have gotten, less freedom to truly stand up for myself and state what I need, what I want, what I feel or what I think. There is this subtle fear that can sweep over me in moments where I should stand up for myself, but wonder if it’s really worth it. This internal battle causes me to go back and forth wondering if I DO stand up for myself and speak my piece, if he will leave and I will be alone…again. I am constantly weighing if it is worth being true to myself or just better to stay quiet (at the expense of myself). 

It wasn’t too long ago that I was faced with the opportunity to stay quiet, as I always had, or to stand up for myself. Staying quiet meant I could keep someone by my side…a warm body. But it also meant staying in a relationship with no emotional safety and security; no stability. And while I knew how to function quite well in the relationship, since it was familiar to me, it began to become clear that standing up for myself would be less scary than to not. So the day came where I severed all ties, used my voice and walked away. It was not without great emotion, pain and heart break, but I did it. Many months of therapy, processing, lonely nights and re-discovering myself and what life was all about ensued. (I actually think I have tendinitis in my elbow from the pages and pages I wrote in my journal!) And while it was not without significant pain and heartache, the moment I stood up for myself was pivotal; fighting for myself gave my life back. And interestingly enough, I have found that standing up for myself has kept my heart un-frozen. It has given me permission to trust myself and my gut and to recognize the value and honor I have in myself as a woman. 

Clare’s line in her final interview after being rejected by Juan Pablo, was “…where’s the man that will fight for me?” is a line I have repeated to myself hundreds, if not thousands, of times. And while I look forward to the day that there will be an answer (in the form of an actual man) to that question, I think Clare figured out that day (when she left Juan Pablo on that beach) what I figured out the day I left my ex…that at the very least, if no one else will fight for me, I will fight for me. Because I am worth fighting for. And so are you.

Cue the Rocky theme song...