#therapistorgasm

Several months ago I sat in a coffee shop with one of my over-30-and-single girlfriends discussing dates, men in general and our own philosophy of dating. It had become apparent to both of us that there was this blessing and curse with being someone who was pursuing self-awareness and it showed up the most in the relationships we had with potential suitors. Like I said in my blog about self-awarenes, when someone who is not pursuing whole living bumps into someone who is, after the initial "high" wears off, they are faced with a choice of dealing with their own lives or running away. Too often they choose to run away. And while it can be easy for people to silver-line the situation... "at least you got out while you could!", it doesn't always take away from the hurt and confusion that is left. 

So, as we sat in that coffee shop, a new conclusion was come to. Essentially, a new standard for men who wanted to date us was that they needed to at some point have gone to therapy or done some other sort of self-work. Nice thought, right? The premise was that we wanted to be with men who had a recognition of who they were, appreciated life experience and what they could learn from it and actively tapped into deeper, emotional parts of themselves rather than remaining on the surface and bolting whenever life got hard. 

Perhaps it was my cynical mask coming out, but even though I agreed with what we were talking about, I highly doubted that it was actually going to happen. To meet someone who pursued knowledge of self with a passion or motivation similar to my own seemed very far fetched. So, I continued my dating buffet with little hope. 

Fast forward a few weeks later to accepting a date with someone I had met online. We had exchanged a handful of fun e-mails and he seemed to be someone that would at least be enjoyable. So, when he asked me out, I accepted without hesitancy but figured that this would be another "one-date-wonder" (can you sense my cynicism?!?) We met at a local establishment for drinks and began engaging in the normal first-date pleasantries; though I was a bit standoff-ish (which is pretty typical for me just judging off of past experience), he was nice enough and at the very least, he asked great questions. The conversation was really great and before long we were discussing topics not usually characteristic of a first, or even fourth, date. I didn't mind though. It was good conversation and I think that's all I might have been looking for that night. 

A couple hours into our date he shared with me a pivotal experience in his life and as he talked he started using words like sadness, guilt, shame, self-awareness, process... You can guess that my ears really perked up at that point. Though still skeptical, I was now very intrigued. The conversation evolved from there with many mentions of words/concepts that are a breath of fresh air to a therapist. I left that date having a stern conversation with that cynical part (mask) of mine, letting it know that it could take a vacation and feeling genuinely excited for the first time in a while.  At the very least seemed to be hope!

As I went to bed that night, reflecting on the date, I couldn't help but giggle at the term that I came up with to describe the date:

#therapistorgasm 

If an orgasm is the pinnacle of bliss in a sexual experience, then hearing a man discuss emotions and his story with honesty and clarity is most certainly a therapist orgasm!

Though we dated for several weeks thereafter, a long term relationship with this man was not in the cards for me for other reasons. That aside, I truly believe this relationship served as a reminder that the things my friend and I had discussed in the coffee shop that day were not only important but there were actually men that possessed these qualities. It was a reminder and affirmation that what I was looking for wasn't so unreasonable. 

For me, so many times I find myself being discouraged or doubting myself for the things that I desire in a man and relationship. I have done a lot of work around my standards and "expectations" in a relationship and feel like I have come to a really great resting point in regards to what I am looking for. But I have many moments in a given day or week or month where I wonder if what I am desiring is truly out there or if I have created an unrealistic ideal that no man can match up to. I'm not asking for a man who cries daily, rather a man who understand the value of emotion and can tap into his own when appropriate. I'm not desiring a man who constantly dwells on his past, rather a man who understands that his past is a part of him and can take from that what he needs in order to be more present. I'm not wishing for a man who initiates intensity and enormous depth in every single conversation that we have but rather a man who is not afraid of engaging in deep conversation when appropriate and can even initiate them from time to time. I'm not looking for a man who tries to get to know everything about me on the first date but someone who's interest is piqued in me and looks forward to (and pursues) getting to know me more each time we are together. 

If I were my own therapist; if I were my own my client, I would probably say that this is sounds like an appropriate list of things to be looking for in a man and that it's ok to not only want these but look for these things. Sometimes I need to pretend I am my own therapist...daily! 

In fleshing out these things that I am looking for and reflecting back on the brief relationship with this man, I can honestly say that my cynical mask feels a little bit less heavy and a little bit more differentiated from my true self.  And while any ending of a relationship is not usually the easiest thing ever, I do think that there is much to be said for looking at different relationships that we have engaged in (romantic and non-romantic alike) and allow ourselves to take from those relationships what we want in order to point us more towards what we need. 

I guess my new standard for men is that they need to give me a #therapistorgasm 

Until next time...

Being Thomas Edison

I am blessed. Truly I am. While the writing of this blog is for you, the reader, it is also very therapeutic for me and I am blessed by the response I have gotten from people who hold a special place in my heart. So shout out to all of those amazing people…you know who you are (if you are wondering if it’s you I’m talking to…it probably is!)

These people that I refer to are the ones who have consistently told me how proud they are of me. It’s taken me a minute to figure out why they are proud of me; sad for me, angry, confused…I understand that (and expected that to be the response). But proud of me was something that caught me off guard. Given the number of horror stories I could share, I have fully expected my friends to ask me to refrain from talking about the latest guy I have accepted a date from. Or I would have understood if they advised me to take a break from dating, use this time to “figure yourself out” (more about that in another blog), or even register on a religious dating site in hopes of finding a different caliber of man. Proud of me, though…

“I’m so proud of you for continuing to put yourself out there…”

When Thomas Edison was asked, after many failed attempts to successfully create the light bulb, if he ever grew discouraged or thought he was wasting his time, Edison said no, he learned something important each time he tried. He learned that there was another material not to be used:

“During all those years of experimentation and research, I never once made a discovery. All my work was deductive, and the results I achieved were those of invention, pure and simple. I would construct a theory and work on its lines until I found it was untenable. Then it would be discarded at once and another theory evolved. This was the only possible way for me to work out the problem. ... I speak without exaggeration when I say that I have constructed 10,000 different theories in connection with the electric light, each one of them reasonable and apparently likely to be true. Yet only in two cases did my experiments prove the truth of my theory.”—Thomas Edison

In a meditative reading a while back, Thomas Edison’s scientific attempts were reflected on as the author used Edison’s example to offer hope and persistence to other aspects of life, namely in relationships. Edison’s lessons are not only telling, but transferrable, especially when seeking out our calling or how we seek out love. Envisioning what we need is powerful and incredibly real but just as crucial is the confidence of spirit to know that it will work—that it’s worth it to keep trying—even if we haven't found exactly where we belong or who to love yet. Equally as vital is the perseverance in trying to find exactly what will work. It cannot be stated enough that what feels so inspiring about Thomas Edison’s journey in inventing the lightbulb is that he never viewed his non-light-producing attempts as any type of failure, but rather as his vital process of discovery.  (My paraphrase from Mark Nepo, Book of Awakening).

It finally hit me why they kept saying they were proud of me. It’s because continuing to put yourself out there when you continually are getting left, abandoned, cheated on, abused, questioned, taking emotional punches...it’s tough as all get out to not sink into a place of misery, tears, cynicism and hopelessness. It can become quite difficult to not view each first date as a worthless when it doesn’t turn into a second date. It can be agonizing to become aware of additional baggage and personal hinderances that make relationships feel like all-for-naught. It can feel confusing when the only guys who seem to respond to your online dating profile are too young, too old or someone that there clearly would never be any attraction to. All of these things can feel like I have failed at relationships and love, thus enforcing a hypothesis about myself and relationships that is simply misdirected (or probably false altogether).

Obviously there have been days where I have not had such a positive outlook and it’s been easier to wonder what is wrong with me and why I keep failing rather than looking at each experience as an opportunity to grow and learn. There have been times where I have wondered if I truly do have the right to be apathetic, frustrated or exhausted; I have wondered if some of my friends’ cynicism for me (or rather my “situation”) would be better owned by me. But in moments where it is easy to slip those masks on, there seems to be an equal, and usually stronger, pull in the opposite direction that reminds me that the self awareness and life gained through this process is far from failure. 

There is something very freeing in having absolute certainty in knowing what I value, what I want, what I need, what I desire and what my boundaries are from experience. There is something very strong when you are able to know for yourself what you are going after because of all you have learned versus taking someone’s word for it (what does work, what doesn’t work, the type of man you should go after, what a relationship should look like, etc.) While certainly I am not advocating for flippancy or overt lack of discernment in experience and relationships, often times these times of trying and putting yourself out there are the greatest teachers.  If anything, like Thomas Edison, they teach you what doesn’t work and you are one step closer to finding something that does.

Persevere.

Until next time…

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

The Masks We Wear

One of the things that I find myself reflecting on a lot are the different masks that I seem to wear throughout my single-dom. It’s not wearing a mask like I might have in middle school or high school when I was trying to figure out my identity (remember those days…one day you would show up to school as a preppy cheerleader and the next day you would sport black lipstick, a pale complexion and all black clothing?) The masks I have worn in my relationship status seem to have the ability to change just as frequently as a teenager figuring out their identity, but they seem to be motivated by a completely different foundation.

If you are over 30 and single, or single again, chances are life has handed you a plethora of experiences, relationships, jobs, decisions and everything else in between, that has really helped to shape who you are. And I think it’s fair to say that many of us have even started to make sense of many of these experiences and been able to use them as a source of refinement and betterment. There is much truth in the statement that with age brings wisdom! I would not trade my body in my 20’s for the mind I have in my 30’s (well…let’s be honest, somedays I do want that body back. To be able to survive on gatorade, licorice and Cheetos without gaining a pound…those were the days!) So, as the days of our life here on this earth steadily increase, there is an amount of being able to “settle in” to who you are that brings about a greater ability to breathe and simply enjoy life in a way that wasn’t possible when you had that Cheeto-eating-body!

Enter in the topic of relationships though, and sometimes that ability to breathe and enjoy life is no where to be found (and to top it off, your body doesn’t react the same way to a bag of Cheetos, so you really do feel all alone!) And that’s where we begin to try on different masks. These masks though are motivated from this deep and vulnerable place within us that is begging for an answer to the question of “Does anyone love me? Do I matter? Does anyone truly see who I am?” And the more those questions are answered with silence or bold faced rejection, the more we must figure out how to defend ourselves against the pain of that unfavorable and all too consistent answer. 

Those deep and vulnerable questions I liken to a wound—they are raw, seemingly exposed and make you wince when someone gets close to touching them. And just like a physical wound that we would seek to protect if the possibility of an additional threat came our way, I believe that we find, even subconsciously, ways to protect that vulnerability in order to keep people at arms length and keep ourselves safe. It’s a natural inclination to want to protect ourselves. We grow up learning how to protect ourselves physically, but when it comes to relationships we have to learn an entirely new set of survival skills.

As I thought about this topic, I began to list out the different masks I had worn (or still wear!) in an effort to protect that vulnerable place within me (remember, that vulnerable place in us is asking those questions of “Am I loved? Do I matter? Does anyone truly see who I am? Does anyone want me? Is there something wrong with me?”) I thought about just listing them all out seeing if y’all could identify with me just based on my titles alone, but quickly realized that I think it’s important to dig into and understand these masks that we wear…why do we wear them, how do we change them, do I ever get to stop wearing them? So we’re gonna spend the next few blogs dissecting the many faces of being single (or single again) and over 30.

The Mask of Cynicism

 I had to start with this mask because it’s the one that is, unfortunately, the most well-worn for me. It’s the mask that I wore daily for quite a long time and the mask that I will go back to in moments that I need something familiar. To be honest, I think this mask is usually combined with many of the other masks I wear. And, I might venture to say, the Mask of Cynicism is probably present in each one of us. And I think it’s also safe to say this mask was created first as a defense mechanism and as a way to cope. It was created the first time you were cheated on, the first time you were rejected, the first time someone disappeared from your life. It became more defined each time someone walked out, each Friday night spent alone, every time you were the 3rd wheel or had to go to a wedding of a friend. And every day, weekend, month, year that passes by and you remain single, this mask no longer feels like a mask. It actually seems to be an intricate part of who you are. 

For me, personally, this mask was present far before I knew it existed. I would try to be excited for a friend who was in a new relationship, but in secret I would cry myself to sleep wondering when it was going to happen for me. And then, in an effort to try and make sense of the situation, I would allow myself to have a silent tirade against all single men who either (only in my opinion, of course) were too blind to see what was good for them, were too flaky to commit or needed to pull their shit together to rise to my standards. And, while those things may have been true from time to time, this cynical view only served as a band-aid, as I denied what was truly going on for me: I was hurting and I was lonely. 

It’s hard to admit that we are hurting, that we are lonely, that we long for a relationship. For whatever reason, in our culture, admitting these things is like admitting weakness. Most of the time we feel like there is something wrong with us; and we convince ourselves that we should feel a whole lot better about being single than we actually do. The interesting part about this is that the more we deny and shove down that hurt and loneliness, the bigger it actually gets. 

At some point that hurt and loneliness has to have some sort of an outlet and it’s not uncommon for it to turn to resentment and resentment to cynicism.  The problem with this type of cynicism, however, is that when this is the mask we wear, we are denying what is real; we are simply surviving. 

I stated above that this Mask of Cynicism is a mask I am quite familiar with; one that in those weak moments I can easily slip back on. It’s an old friend, it gives me momentary gratification and satisfaction. But it never lasts. The reality is, when I allow myself to wear this mask without noticing it, recognizing it’s reason for existence and where it is manifesting itself, I become quite bitter. Bitterness breeds cynicism which breeds more bitterness; it’s a vicious cycle that eventually results in isolation (which is where I think the stereotype of the cat lady comes in to play! Seriously, click the link if you are in need of a chuckle!)

So, what’s a girl to do? Is it possible for this cycle to even be stopped, for this mask to be removed and to move forward in humble acceptance? The short answer is, yes. Though it is, as always, easier said than done, removing this mask requires a daily commitment to live in honesty and truth about the reality that you live in. It doesn’t mean you become a victim or martyr (those are masks we will discuss in a future post), it simply means you accept the situation you are in rather than trying to deny it. [A quick note on acceptance: contrary to popular belief, acceptance doesn’t mean that you have to like your situation, it doesn’t mean that you have to desire more of it either. Acceptance simply means that you are honest and truthful about the reality that you are presently in, living fully in that moment, participating in your emotions rather than repressing or suppressing them and then to move out of that moment when needed.]

I will end with a quote I read from a meditation book, The Book of Awakening, by poet, Mark Nepo:

“It’s so simple and yet so brave to say that we are hurt when we are hurt, to say that we are sad when we are sad, to say that we are scared when we are scared. In very direct and daily ways, this energy of realness changes situations because the immediate expression of our truth releases light and warmth that influences the life we are a part of. This is the way our spirit shines.”