The Gift of Loneliness

If there was one emotion that I wish I never had to feel again it would be loneliness. The thought of being loved, accepted, considered, needed and in meaningful relationships without having to feel that pit of loneliness ever again would be truly amazing. Loneliness is a feeling I have come to know quite well; it's a feeling that I have been 'forced' to reckon with as long as I can remember and I don't anticipate I will stop dealing with it anytime soon. And by soon, I mean until I am no longer on this earth. 

Learning how to deal with loneliness has been quite a process and like anything it seems to have vast layers that surface with overwhelming force at very inopportune times. I used to think that the loneliest I could be was when I would hear of the girls that I had mentored as middle and high schoolers getting married and having babies. Then all of my younger brothers got married and I realized that was a new level of loneliness that I had never experienced before. When my third and final brother got married last fall, I had become accustomed to dealing with this emotion and was able to make it through the wedding with much serenity. 

I've experienced loneliness in diagnosable amounts anytime I have broken up with someone; residual effects of missing someone's companionship or just having someone to say goodnight to can take it's toll. Loneliness has come from celebrating holidays alone, Friday nights alone or even from being the one amidst my friends who traditionally has to do the pursuing and planning if I want to hang out with anyone. Loneliness comes when I am the afterthought of being invited somewhere, the "hey, someone else backed out...wanna come?" friend or the one who sees on social media that everyone is hanging out without you. Basically, I've felt like I have really excelled at processing through, feeling and not denying the emotion of loneliness. 

Lest I get comfortable in how to deal with this emotion, I experienced a entirely different level of loneliness when my grandmother passed away earlier this year. Never before had I experienced such a depth of despair and aloneness. It couldn't compare to all of my break-ups, Friday nights alone or brothers getting married combined. 

Sure, I had family around me and people to talk to. Even though I spent a good long time actively numbing my emotion initially, I still knew there were people around me. But when I saw and talked to my grandfather in the days leading up to my grandmother's funeral, the pit of loneliness was undeniable.  I did miss my grandmother and I don't think I ever have to stop that, but it was watching my grandfather break into tears as he thought of his beloved wife of nearly 72 years being gone that the loneliness settled in. As he told stories and recalled events from the previous seven decades what became most obvious was how important and actually essential this relationship was to him. 

As I experienced him talking about, recounting, laughing and crying over memories of her, their depth of relationship was so apparent and so powerful that you could not ignore it. Not only did I feel lonely for my grandfather, I suddenly was faced with a reality of knowing that I had never experienced such a love--so pure, so enduring, so healing, so enjoyable and so steadfast and I knew in an instant how much I wanted it. In the absence of that great love that my grandfather spoke of rested instead loneliness that only magnified that human need for relationship.  

While I have done a great deal of work in processing my own loneliness prior to the passing of my grandmother I had never really understood the purpose of it. In my head and by putting on my therapist hat I knew that there was a gift in identifying and feeling lonely but I've always felt like it's a gift that I have never received. In "Voice of the Heart" by Chip Dodd, he explains that the gift of loneliness is relationship. When we allow ourselves to truly understand, know and feel our loneliness what we get is the transcending knowledge that we desperately need to be in relationships with others; we are created for relationship. Experiencing and feeling loneliness allows to tap into some of the deepest parts of ourselves in order to reach out and cultivate meaningful and intimate relationships. Experiencing and feeling loneliness taps into our fears of being betrayed, rejected and hurt and plants in us a zeal that is willing to risk relationships despite the potential hurt. Essentially it allows us to see that the reward of relationship far outweighs the risk. 

So, what it boils down to is this: I am coming to a place where I can realize and accept there will not be a point on this earth that I will never feel lonely again. There will always be points where even small doses of loneliness may creep up. But the loneliness serves as a reminder and motivation of my humanity, my need for relationships and the joy that I can experience in these relationships.

Honestly, I don't believe that a relationship is a fix all for the emotion of loneliness. I have been in relationships before where the loneliness I have felt is even greater than the loneliness I have experienced being single. But the truth of the matter is that often times we can not experience the depth of joy of a relationship if we have not also experienced the other end of the spectrum--the depth of loneliness in absence of a relationship. The loneliness allows us to cherish and desire relationship that likely could not be present if the loneliness had not first occurred.

As I write this I am sitting in an airport coming home from my grandfather's funeral; he passed away just six weeks after his sweetheart, my grandmother, did. The doctors diagnosed him as dying from takotsubo cardiomyopathy--dying from broken heart syndrome. The loneliness in my own self has lessened a bit knowing that my grandparents are now together again; they are no longer lonely for each other. While they gave me many gifts while here on this earth through their life they have given me a beautiful gift in their death--they have given me the gift of relationship; of knowing how beautiful, healing and what a necessity it is. I will continue to miss them, to be sad that they are gone and to, always, wish that they were still here. These things never have to stop and I can honor the amazing presence that they were in my life by feeling my loneliness and accepting their gift and example of relationship. 

Lessons From a Cruise Ship Singer

Once again the Bachelor has provided some great fodder to think about. While the show is generally pretty comical if you listen closely, every now and again there will be nuggets of wisdom to think about and implement into different parts of your life. Last night was no different and this week’s wisdom comes from Carly, the 29 year old cruise ship singer.

Last night Prince Farming’s sisters paid the girls a visit to spend some time getting to know the girls who were vying after their younger brother’s heart. As an older sister I can certainly appreciate this and think there is definitely wisdom in bringing some outside resources into this process. In their time with Carly she became emotional when she was answering their questions about previous relationships and being treated unkindly. As she discussed the ‘interview’ with the rest of the girls in the house she made a simple and profound statement about her show of emotions with the sisters:

“The things you become emotional about are the things that are most important.”

Regardless of our backgrounds (ethnicities, parts of the country, religion, etc.) there seems to be a resounding theme of the expression of emotions being slightly dangerous. As I continue with my own therapeutic journey and sit in the presence of so many others as they share their stories, I hear over and over just how difficult it is to express emotion over anything—good, bad or even devastating. People seem to have ingrained messages stemming from years and decades ago that tell them to keep their emotions under wraps lest they be judged by others or their emotions would be seen as a weakness. 

I’ve seen this to be especially true when it comes to the topic of dating and relationships. As much as I find myself getting annoyed at the girls on the Bachelor gushing all of their emotions and terms of endearment towards their suitor (which I am sure are at least, in part, scripted), I can’t help but feel a tug at my own heart knowing that it would be nearly impossible to get me to say things like that because of the emotional strings attached to my words. To display my thoughts and emotions to someone, let alone a national audience, would be, at the very least, vulnerable. To not display emotion about something or someone I care about feels far safer and more secure; it’s a layer of protection that I can offer myself in case something doesn’t worked out as I had hoped. 

I see this all the time in relationships—we tell ourselves that we’re not that into someone or that it didn’t feel that terrible to be broken up with or disappeared on. We rationalize the situation, we informationalize (I think I just made that word up!) the situation, we think of 10,000 possibilities for what we might have done wrong in the relationship that we can now be working on…we do anything other than sitting in the emotional pain of feeling something towards another and it not being reciprocated. Becoming emotional about something, showing feelings, getting angry and crying are all signs that someone or something has had an impact on us. But showing emotion is vulnerable. It means that someone has the power to hurt you, to wound you; and in being vulnerable you are willingly exposing yourself to that potential without necessarily knowing the outcome. 

But I wonder if that vulnerability of emotion can, like Miss Carly said, show us also the things that are the most important to us. Things like kindness and compassion; being treated with equality and respect. Maybe showing emotion over something shows us that we really do want a relationship rather than having to hide behind a mask of fierce independence. Maybe showing emotion shows us and others that we are not an impenetrable force but rather a living, breathing, soft human being. What if acknowledging our emotion and understanding what is motivating it can point us in the direction of what we are passionate about in life, in relationships and in the world? 

What a gift we would miss if we shielded ourselves from emotion to keep away the hurt but also ended up keeping out the utter joy and bliss of finding out what is most important to us. 

I'll Be Your Tinderella

I have finally succumbed to the pressure. Well, kind of. Ok, no one was pressuring me. I did it because I wanted to feel better about myself one night. I joined Tinder.

A few months ago I was broken up with someone for what I would consider fairly shallow reasons. The short of it is he preferred a size 2, large breasted, super model-ish woman as compared to my average size, decent looks (I mean, I don’t think I need to wear a bag over my head), small chest and large(r)…well…bedonkadonk (something which, I might add, has never been a problem in previous relationships nor am I looking to change!) The process of coming to terms with that is in another blog but one of the ways of dealing with the aftermath was joining Tinder. 

(For those of you who don’t know what Tinder is, it’s a free app for your phone in which you can potentially interact with people. If you like the way they look and what they choose to say in their 200 character profile, swipe right. If not, swipe left. If that person swipes right too, you can chat via their version of text messaging. The app allows you to come in contact with other users of the app within a 50 mile radius of your locale which means wherever you are there is a chance to meet someone!)

So, on a night that I just wanted to feel good about myself and see if other people found me attractive, I joined Tinder. Essentially I was in the drivers seat and was able to “swipe away” those I wasn’t attracted to (without the chance of really hurting their feelings) and was encouraged when someone I found attractive also found me attractive. I know, I know, perhaps not the best way of dealing with things, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

I developed a love/hate relationship with the app and go in spurts of checking it or not. On the one hand there is an allure to the potential dates and people who you might not normally run into. On the other hand, the amount of potential dates can be intimidating, not to mention the stereotype that goes along with a free dating app—that most people are on it for sexual encounters exclusively. (The following screenshot of a message would be a great example! …his messages are in gray, mine are in blue…)

So that got me thinking; I have started to notice a few trends as of late as I have delved into the world of Tinder and it has opened my eyes even more to our modern culture of dating. 

1. There is a hustle to dating - people are in and out quick
2. Dating is like a buffet
3. There is no typical dating etiquette
4. People are bolder behind a phone screen than in real life
5. It’s consuming and overwhelming
6. …and yet oddly satisfying

Let me explain…

• Finding a date nowadays seems to be tailored for someone with Adult ADD or ADHD. It’s fast paced and if you take too long to respond to a request you are either ignored eternally or responded to with a snarky comment. As a general rule I have been trying to not be so attached to my phone, which means that many times I don’t even know where it is. A few weeks back I received a message from a guy who I had been communicating with in which he gave me his phone number and asked to communicate via text (which I actually would not have been opposed to). A couple hours later when I checked my phone, he had already written another message back with a passive aggressive statement regarding me not contacting him (which you can be sure was enough red flag to indeed NOT contact him). I began paying attention to how fast someone would lose interest in me—if I responded immediately to a message the interest was maintained. If, for whatever reason, I did not respond immediately it was far more likely that I would never hear back from that person. 

• Dating is like a buffet. It’s hard to concentrate on just one person, nor do you need to concentrate on just one person, when there are 15 more eligible bachelors/bachelorettes who are filling our inbox with messages. I used to get really mad about this and yet I find myself doing it from time to time too. Having this many options allows one to create in their mind a standard of perfection that simply doesn’t exist in any one person. This person’s smile, another person’s build, another person’s zest for life combined with another person’s nurturing spirit; someone who is partying every weekend and another who takes life and responsibility seriously.  There is no need to get serious about any one person when there are always more on standby for when something doesn’t work out. In fact, that thought actually perpetuates things NOT working out. The thought of “is there someone better out there” plagues even the best of us who value commitment, fidelity and loyalty; it’s hard to resist when it’s just a click away!

• Ever since I was a teen I knew very well of the unspoken rule that if someone calls you/texts you after 10:00 at night it’s a booty call. And lest you want to be perceived as someone who is looking for that, you maintain communication during the non-booty-call-hours of 8:00am—10:00pm. However, it is not abnormal to wake up to several messages from several different guys that were written only a couple hours before I woke up in the morning. Not only is my first thought questioning what their intentions are, but I can’t help but wonder how someone who advertises himself as an attorney can stay up until three or four o’clock in the morning every night and still be at the office by 8. The expectation is that we are online all the time which means that it’s not so uncommon to stay up until the wee hours of the morning texting back and forth with a perfect stranger—all starting off as innocent conversation and quickly moving to things that you would not want your momma to see!

• The concept of being bolder behind the screen (phone, computer, iPad, etc.) is getting a lot of buzz as of late, typically in regards to teens and young adults. However, the same is true for people in their 30’s and 40’s. When someone asks me to meet them for sex (see the above text), I can’t help but wonder if they were in front of me would that truly be the first thing out of their mouth? Maybe I am naive, but it would seem that the chances are much slimmer. Having the barrier of a screen seems to allow people to un-filter, say whatever they want and not truly see or feel the consequences of their words and actions. This of course only leads to objectification. If someone feels it appropriate to ask people for inappropriate things (e.g. sexually) it is probably safe to assume they are also not seeing the other person as having a heart, soul, emotions and a mind. And if we want to go down that road, this seems like a perfect recipe for breeding sociopaths (…I’ll refrain from getting on that soapbox!)

• Online dating can be absolutely consuming and overwhelming. It’s pretty much a full time job! The other night I realized that my settings on the app were not reflecting the true age range of people that I was looking to meet. After increasing the age not only was I faced with endless options, I also woke up the next morning (a mere six hours after shutting my phone off the previous night) with 15 notifications of new matches and messages. That’s 15 potential relationships, 15 conversations to keep straight (not to mention the handful of other guys that I was already communicating with) and 15 responses to the typical get-to-know-you questions. By 10:00 that next morning I had received 6 invitations to go out that night which then led to the task of politely declining them…all.  Before I knew it, my morning that was going to be used for catching up on housework was gone as I had just spent more hours than I would like to admit communicating with potential dates. The exhausting part comes in knowing that the likelihood that it will happen again tomorrow is pretty great. Talk about overwhelming…

• …and yet, it’s oddly satisfying. I can’t deny the fact that looking at my phone with invitations to get to know me, take me out and compliments about my profile and pictures aren’t something I like. I do. Who doesn’t? As overwhelming as it is to wake up to those messages, it kind of makes me feel good to know that someone (or 15 someones) wants me. Sitting at home by myself on a Friday night doesn’t seem as bad or lonely when I know there were at least options to go out and the choice I made was what kept me in. Being able to jump online in a moment of desperate loneliness and try to find connection (no matter how shallow it might be) has a certain appeal!

And that last trend…well, that’s the trend that makes the other trends bearable. It’s the trend that speaks to our deep need for connection and relationship. It’s the trend that keeps us hopeful despite all the less than appropriate encounters. It’s the trend that keeps us from deleting the app. It’s the trend that keeps us swiping right. 

That last trend speaks so deeply to my human need for intimacy—to be seen, known and loved by another. It’s truly a basic need just as food, water and shelter are. And it makes sense since so many of us go after it as if our lives depended on it. Though the trends in how we go about finding love and what the appropriate or inappropriate ways are to do so vary from year to year and generation to generation, the fact remains that we do it because we believe in the possibility of love. 

What these trends have taught me is to develop a thick skin and an uncanny weeding system. I have had to come to terms with the fact that I am going to receive messages from people that make my skin crawl. I am going to be rejected because I don’t text a stranger after 10:00pm. I will get no response from someone whom I don’t respond to in a timely (30 second) manner. And while I could let these things deeply discourage me on this quest and even give me a ‘right’ to live with an edge of cynicism, it can also propel me in hope knowing that with each missed connection I am, perhaps, one step closer to a great connection. Though I do not like the current dating trends I choose, day after day, week after week and month after month, to do it. I choose to do the hard thing and keep putting myself out there. I do it for something bigger than me. I do it for love. I do it because maybe, just maybe, the shoe will fit and I will be someone’s Tinderella.  

#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...