My Name is Lainey and I’m a Relationship Sabotager

Several months ago I wrote a series of blogs about different masks that we wear, that I wear, when it comes to relationships. One of the masks that I focused on was “The Sabotager”. As I re-read what I wrote about that mask before I started writing this blog, I was almost in disbelief that I had written these words less than a year ago. It’s not that I didn’t believe them when I wrote them, it just feels like now, months and many experiences later, I understand these words at a level that is far deeper than I could have imagined back then.

So, to put it bluntly, I recently figured out that I sabotage relationships. And in figuring out that I do this, I almost lost out on another relationship that had a lot of great qualities. After dating a really great guy for only a couple weeks I noticed my anxiety level creeping upwards and recognized that no matter how much I tried to be nonchalant, I continued to let my mind get the best of me. On one particular night we had a minor miscommunication and while I do maintain that the consideration of communication that I was asking for was still appropriate, after a two hour conversation regarding this conflict that should never happen at that point in a relationship, something within me clicked. As the days had been passing by, I was actually preparing for him to break my heart. Though he never gave any indication that he was, in fact he continually affirmed how much he enjoyed spending time with me and liked who I was, I was choosing instead to listen to past experiences and my negative internal loop instead of actually looking at reality.

Making it through that conversation and still being committed to getting to know each other left me both with a sense of relief and peace, but also some major reflection that I needed to do in regards to what my anxiety was all about, why my reaction was so inflated and really what the hell had just happened. As I sat in my chair with my coffee, a book and my journal in hand the next morning I slowly but surely came to the profound realization that as much as I desire a deep and intimate relationship, life has handed me enough experiences that often times make me less than hopeful of that happening. And as much as I hate the ending of any relationship and the depth of loneliness that it seems to leave me, I have truly become an expert at dealing with it. And if I am being honest, there is a sense of seduction in being the perpetual victim—passed over again and again by various men. 

The fact of the matter is, being in a relationship is risky. It involves vulnerability and courage and always leaves a possibility that you could get hurt. And if you have been in relationships that have ended less than amicably, it would seem that your natural reaction would be to create some sort of defense mechanism that is designed to protect you from the pain of relationships ending. 

Perhaps its pride or maybe just my own blind spot, but it was hard for me to recognize these sabotaging patterns for quite a long time.  I never had any extreme behaviors, public meltdowns, rants or overly dramatic instances that would have been, obviously, sabotaging. For me I think it was more that I went in to a relationship expecting it to end and expecting to get hurt, so I made sure that it happened in too many cases. While I never made things up or took extreme measures to sabotage a relationship, I do know that my expectations that I projected onto my potential-future-boyfriends surely did not make staying with me easy. And while there have been a few of those guys along the way where the ending of the relationship truly was all on them and NOT due to my sabotaging behaviors, I can look back now and see that there were many other relationship endings that had at least in some part to do with my own efforts to make my self-fulfilling prophecies come true. 

In my last blog I talk about the process of figuring out the way to date that most greatly reflects my desires and values. I have come to realize that in finding this balance involves looking at the pace at which a relationship develops and in focusing on this I have realized this is the area that I am prone to sabotage a relationship. Prior to the last few months I had gotten used to relationships starting (and ending) quickly. Within days we were spending every day together, communicating all day and even having conversations discussing our futures together. But 6-8 weeks in, things fizzled out and I was left again by myself on a Friday night. 

With this as a pattern beginning to become ingrained in my mind, you can imagine that a few weeks into a relationship triggers my body and mind into an automatic panic response. I’ve been through it so many times it seems that my body naturally begins to believe the end is near and sometimes even forces the end of the relationship through various means. 

So, you can imagine my surprise and uncertainty when, a few weeks into our relationship we had only gone on a handful of dates, texted sporadically and talked on the phone when our schedules allowed. Though I was told this was normal dating, it was so far from my traditional experiences that it became difficult to know how to handle it in a mature way. So I began doing the only thing I knew how to do: sabotage the relationship. I took something small and allowed it to be made into a much bigger deal than I needed to make it and prepared myself for him to end it with me that night. But he didn’t. And I admit, I had no clue how to handle it. Yet, something was very right. Call it super natural patience, grace or whatever, he calmly identified the ways that he made it clear, several times each day, that he was interested in me and wanting to pursue a relationship with me. And after explaining it, he stuck around. And he was there the next day. And the day after that. 

For me that was, what a therapist would call, an emotionally corrective experience. Throughout my entire life I have been told that I am too much to handle and that I need to find someone who will ‘put up with me’. I suppose many times I have created situations in which I have become too much to handle and basically fulfilled that prophecy in my life. For many years I prayed for a man that COULD handle the intensity of me, one that wouldn’t walk away the first sign of trouble. It took me a while to believe for myself that I wasn’t too much to handle and that the people who told me that repeatedly were wrong, but to have someone stand in front of you and reflect back the opposite of that cognitive distortion, stick around and remind me over and over what he likes about me, provides a healing experience that acts as a loudspeaker over those negative messages. 

In the days following that instance I have caught myself daily, naturally turning towards sabotaging actions when my anxiety arises. I do wish they would go away and that my gut reaction would be one of peace and presence, but I do think that the next best thing is being able to observe myself and choose how to act in a different way. So now, though the pattern is new, I am proud to say that I have started developing a new pattern: not sabotaging a relationship. And in that I have come, face to face, on a brand new level with both the risk and reward that is involved in a relationship. Not sabotaging means I don’t get to control the situation in an effort to protect myself.  Not sabotaging means that I get to be present in the relationship. Not sabotaging allows love to enter in. 

[Author’s Note: This blog was written a little over a month  prior to being posted so lest you get your hopes up that perhaps I am dating someone, no worries, this one also disappeared a couple weeks later! However, I am grateful for the lessons that I learned, they were much needed. Additionally, it’s great to know that there truly was nothing that I could have done differently, his disappearance was on his own accordance; stay tuned for the next blog for my theories on this phenomenon!]

The Masks We Wear - Part 3

It’s funny how life seems to hand us situations when we least expect it, in order to see if we are gonna put our money where our mouth is! I have been privy to several situations in the recent past where I have had to exercise my self-awareness and deciphering how easily it is to slip on a mask in an effort to protect myself, find peace or at the very least, some instant gratification in the midst of confusion. And as life happens and I remain committed to being aware of what is going on in and around me, I also become more aware of different masks that are ready for use at a moment’s notice.  

For me, it’s been good to recognize, however, that the masks that we wear (even the ones that feel so closely tied to our actual identity) are there as a protective factor. They were designed, refined and well-worn in order to combat the brutal realities of what it’s like to live life in relationship with others. If it were a perfect world these masks wouldn’t exist…nor would this blog; but in spite of this, I believe it’s actually a gift to be able to understand things about ourselves so that we have a shot at being a healthy individual who can engage in healthy relationships. 

So, this week we’ll introduce a couple more masks: The Mask of Apathy and The Sabotager. 

The Mask of Apathy

I have to admit, this mask is a new one for me! While I believe it has been present for a while, it is only as of late that this mask seems to be the predominant feature in my life. Apathy, in the dictionary, is defined as the absence of emotion, passion or excitement. And when it comes to even thinking about going on another first date or starting the entire relationship process all over again, this is the mask that surges to the front. After another ending to a (short) relationship a month ago (props to the guy for formally breaking up with me…progress is being made!), the thought of going out with anyone seemed like the most unappealing thing in the world. Sure, there is the normal “grieving period” after a relationship, but this was different. It wasn’t that I was heartbroken over the relationship being over (and I implemented a fair share of my own awareness to ensure I was not wearing that Victim Mask!), it was simply that I had no emotion towards dating at all, even if it was a great guy that I might go on a date with. I noticed this mask really start to solidify when I started talking with and getting to know another guy, one who seemed perfectly good and someone I should be interested in getting to know. As his excitement grew steadily in the days leading up to our first date, I couldn’t seem to muster up even fake excitement to respond back to his incredibly sweet text messages and phone conversations. Poor guy! Here he was, trying to get to know me, and the 40 guys before him had blazed a trail that was making it difficult for him to even walk!

If a mask is supposed to protect us, then there must be a reason for the Mask of Apathy to as well. In my experiential assessment, it seems that the Mask of Apathy is worn due to exhaustion and fear. Exhaustion because dating is just that. It just simply isn’t fun going on one more first date, always having to put your best foot forward, going through the “getting-to-know-you” phase (which we HOPE leads to truly being known, but seldom seems to!) It gets old being excited, telling friend and gushing about details, only to have to go back to these same people with, yet another, break up story. It’s exhausting to continue to put yourself out there one more time while trying to maintain any ounce of hope that maybe, just maybe, the next first date could be the last first date. 

And I admit, I am apathetic because I am fearful. As exhausting as it is to play this relationship game, it’s slightly terrifying. The hamster wheel of thoughts is continually running, wondering how much to say, wondering what he is thinking, wondering what the line is between protecting yourself and your emotions versus being cold and rigid. It’s scary to open yourself up to trusting someone with your story. Dating is a risk of the highest order. For me, at the beginning of this dating journey, there was an amount of excitement and intrigue in sharing myself and my story with someone. I was hopeful in sharing things about myself that it would offer points of connection and commitment. But at some point the intrigue wore off into, yes, apathy. It was easier to emotionlessly engage in conversations, go through the motions and turn my heart (and mind) off to an extent just so that if it didn’t work out, it would hurt just a little bit less. 

It’s truly a fine line between using boundaries and protecting yourself emotionally versus shutting off your emotions and becoming apathetic. I don’t pretend to be an expert on this, and like so many of the other masks that we have talked about, simply admitting it and being honest that it exists somehow seems to help. To recognize my apathy means that I cannot live in denial about it. It means that I have to acknowledge where I have been hurt and honestly reflect on what I feel comfortable with “bringing to the table” as I continue to date. I do see that apathy can protect me (it forces my hand at being slow about relationships rather than diving in too fast), but I see that it can also set me up for a different kind of disappointment—and I am the only one responsible for that. 

Recognizing this mask also helps to keep me in check realistically and gives me permission to set and stick to boundaries and still allow myself to be hopeful, even when life and relationships seem to be a dismay. 

And while apathy protects me from having to feel some of those negative emotions like confusion, anger, resentment, frustration or irritation, it also then hinders me from being able to experience joy, gratitude, peace and happiness. The recognition of this mask, then, provides me with an opportunity to experience the spectrum of emotions in order for life to be truly full and satisfying.

The Sabotager

This mask…well, this mask I really dislike. It’s great at it’s job. It is subtle and effective and can go unrecognized forever if we let it. The sabotager.  We have all heard of people who sabotage themselves when good things are about to happen. The person who creates unnecessary drama when facing the possibility of commitment. The person who, right before a job interview with a huge promotion, gets strung out on substances so they are not able to make the interview. It’s more common than we think, and it’s humbling to recognize where The Sabotager has shown up in my life. 

To be fair, if we wear the Sabotager Mask, it is because life has handed us circumstances (both provoked and unprovoked) that have made it difficult to accept good things because we fear those things being taken away from us.  It’s truly humbling to admit that prior to the not so distant past, I sabotaged my relationships prior to them even beginning. At some point in my growing up years I began to operate out of the mindset that I was too much to handle (as a person) and it was my job to sacrifice myself for the needs of others (this was reinforced significantly by my stout religious upbringing). And while I do understand that life, nor relationships, need not be entirely about me, I came to believe that to have needs, wants and desires was selfish (therefore creating the belief that I was too much to handle) and would need to give to others at the expense of myself, entirely. You can imagine the creatures that flocked to me. Unhealthy, emotionally unavailable, abusive, addicts, uncommitted, legalistic, uncaring, rude, over-spiritualizing…I was a prime candidate for these types of men. 

[Side note: because I realize that I am the common denominator in those relationships, it is important, as always, that I understand that I should have sought help, restoration, healing and health. I had choices to get into and stay in these relationships, continue dating men who fit those descriptions as well as to not value myself.]

My Sabotager Mask was always on. I truly believed I did not deserve mutuality, respect, compassion, care and equality. As a result I sabotaged those relationships, and really, myself, before they even began. Had I recognized the underlying issues and addressed my fear, cognitive distortions and false belief system, I cannot help but believe that my Sabotager Mask wouldn’t have been present because it would have had no need. In later years of life, after recognizing these patterns in myself (but still not dealing with them), the Sabotager would present itself as projection, panic, clinginess, desperation and intensity. Perhaps I was not dating the same type of emotionally unavailable man, but my beliefs about myself had not changed so the Sabotager simply changed it’s strategies of external appearance. 

If the Sabotager Mask is present in order to protect from getting hurt, or to uphold belief systems (albeit, false belief systems), then there is an amount of gratitude to be paid as it has done it’s job well. The Sabotager recognizes that dealing with whats going on underneath seems more painful than repeating the cycle (which is denial at it’s core) and does what it needs to do to keep us in familiar territory. The Sabotager recognizes that our own dysfunction is somehow functional and works hard to maintain a sense of equilibrium (or “status quo”).

If I’m being honest, the Sabotager Mask is probably the one that requires the most amount of external support, guidance, time and diligence to take off. It’s vivid presence in your life is so woven into the fabric of who you are on every level that, in many ways, a new foundation is required. There is hope though. While painful to deal with, the reward in looking at those internal and external messages, false beliefs, experiences, relationships and distortions is healthy relationship (of all kinds). It is not a light commitment to make, but rather a daily commitment to wholehearted living with motivation to get yourself back no matter what. 

And, I have to admit, there is an amount of celebration that happens internally every time you recognize how you normally would have responded to a situation (in the past) versus how you want to and actually do presently respond. 

Party on…

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...