The Right to My Story

In the recent past I have become aware of how much I value authenticity. Perhaps it goes hand in hand with my love of connecting to others, but I have always valued a platform of being open and honest about one’s self and not needing to hide. Hiding, to me, feels dishonest and yucky and keeping something from someone sometimes feels like I am living a lie. I’m sure this bent towards authenticity comes from a deep craving for it within my family. Growing up I always knew there were secrets; looks and glances were exchanged, voices hushed, certain topics of conversation ceased when certain people walked into the room. I was a pretty intuitive kid so I noticed this. It wasn’t until years later, until my 30’s actually, that many of the family secrets were finally brought into the open and most of what I guessed to be true was actually found to be true. There were large parts of my life that began to make sense and the sharing of secrets opened up into a light space that made interactions not quite so uncomfortable. 

I can understand why this drive towards authenticity exists in me. Always wanting to know the truth about what was going on but never really knowing it probably led to a huger for truth and a motivation to just be up front with who I was. Interestingly enough, authenticity, while always a value, has been a learned practice for me—safe authenticity has not always been present in my life. I grew up in a culture where authenticity was required in the form of accountability for punishment, judgment and shaming purposes. Openness and questions (about life, love, faith, the world, etc.) were typically met with a harsh attitude in which people would use the information they gathered against you when the time was right. I developed a struggle within me swinging back and forth between wanting desperately to be authentic and known by others and fearing the repercussions of someone using my story and my deepest thoughts against me. 

In doing my own work I have come to recognize not only my own value of authenticity and why it has been so difficult for it in the past but I have started to learn how to live out that value in my day to day life. In my professional life I live in a world that consists of complete authenticity—free from judgement and harsh criticism; it’s the beauty of therapy. Personally I have chosen for the people who I most closely surround myself with to also be people who I can be open and honest with—who refrain from judgement and shaming and who offer their own authenticity back to me. 

In fact, it’s gotten to the point where I sometimes naively believe that no one will judge me for my story—the life I have created for myself honors the value of authenticity and absence of judgementalism and I sub-consciously expect for others to offer me the same. The sad truth is that, though ideal, this is not reality. 

This is not a concept I have understood with ease. In my mind I did one of those “opposite sides of the spectrum” thing—because I had spent so many years inhibited from authenticity it seemed only natural to swing to the opposite side of the spectrum and have a ‘no-holds-barred’ mentality and let anyone know anything about me. But as we know, neither side of the spectrum is really great to camp out on. 

        I have seen this to be very evident in dating. Men who I went on a handful of dates with would know, sometimes, intimate details of my past and relationships simply because they asked the question “why are you still single?” In my mind I felt an obligation to let them know the truth—I grew up in an uber religious home and once I got out of that I was in an abusive relationship from which I have done a lot of therapeutic work on and am finally at a place to have something to give to another. While entirely true, this was being said to someone who had not yet earned a position in my life to know this. They barely knew my last name—they certainly didn’t need to know the wounds of mine that had just healed or were still healing! 

Part of my desire for authenticity is also because I don’t enjoy playing games. While I don’t need to know all the minute details of someone within the first couple dates, I appreciate someone being able to share with me appropriate amounts of their life at appropriate times in the relationship. But it seems that in today’s day and age this process, like so many others, is a bit warped in what information is requested/expected of another in comparison to the level of the relationship. In my naivety I have believed that if someone is going to ask a personal question they have a level of investment that will allow for me to offer a more detailed or personal answer. 

As an example: I have been asked, multiple times, on the first date if I have ever been pregnant. Not do I have kids or do I want to have kids. They don’t even ask if I am currently pregnant. They have asked if I have ever been pregnant. How do you, safely, answer a question like that? What if I say “no” and the relationship continues on and then I have to come back and tell them I lied to them? But if I say “yes” then it seems that they would want to know why I don’t have any children (which leads to a further discussion…did I have an abortion, miscarry, give the kids up for adoption or not have custody of the children?) This is quite the situation to put someone in that you have known for less than a couple hours—and even more of a dilemma when you hold a value of authenticity!

Another example might be the choice that I have made not to drink for a while; when I go on a date where we meet for drinks and I order a club soda or Diet Coke, I inevitably get the question, “why aren’t you drinking?” Part of me feels the need to urgently assure them that I’m not an alcoholic who is working on sobriety or pregnant. But then I know if I take those two things off the table I am at risk of having to explain that I am having some health related issues that I have been working on and am choosing not to drink in order to heal my body. That’s a whole other can of worms. Telling the guy that “I am just choosing not to drink for a while” never seems to sit well at just that, yet they know very little about me that would make me feel comfortable sharing my entire health history. 

In chatting about this concept with friends, I know that I am not the only one in this situation. I have heard stories and had my own experiences of men asking questions about sex, past relationships, mental health issues, trauma, family issues and so much more within the first couple dates. Often times when we get these highly inappropriate questions we are faced with this pressure to give an answer AND an explanation. So if I say “yes” or “no” to a question, I must also explain why that is, how I got to that decision and the important life events that have shaped me and I have grown from in order to make my yes my yes or my no my no. And while the person on the listening end of the conversation might appear to be interested in your response he has not yet earned the right in your life to hear that much about you. 

This is a real thing, people! 

So…what’s a girl to do?

The only answer that I can come up with is: appropriate authenticity—and this requires a bit of boldness. This first means that I take time to reflect on what I feel comfortable sharing about my life with just about anyone—whether I meet you on a date, in a community group or on a city bus. I recognize that on the first few dates these are the things that I can feel safe talking about with my potential suitor and allow myself permission to become aware if it feels like things are going into uncomfortable territory. Secondly, it means that I can give an answer to a question without an explanation; and if an explanation is requested I can share that the story behind that answer isn’t something you share with just anyone. Or, if it’s a really absurd question (like “have you ever been pregnant?”) I might just need to ignore the question altogether and change the subject. 

Yeah, sure…they might have bought you dinner or even poured their own heart and soul out to you. But that was their choice. You have a choice in the matter as well. Your story is all they have—make sure that the people you share it with have proven worthy of such an honor. 

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

I love my job, I really do. Being a therapist is my dream job and I could never imagine doing anything else. Being a therapist has allowed me to come into contact, daily, with the rawness of humanity and has taught me how to love people in a nonjudgmental and unique way that hopefully inspires healing. In many ways, being a therapist has saved me from myself! 

But in seeing the rawness of humanity you also see the drama of humanity. 

Due to the clientele that I find myself drawn to (women who have been in or are getting out of an abusive relationship, co-dependent individuals and women in their 20’s and 30’s), I am faced, daily, with huge doses of second-hand drama. Luckily for me, I have learned how to keep drama at the office and not bring it into my personal life! That aside, as I have sat with these beautiful and special women day after day, I have noticed a trend. It seems, with no exaggeration, that for many of these women, no matter how dramatic they are, no matter how much baggage they bring into a relationship, no matter how much they say and do the absolute opposite of what they should do (the healthy thing to do), how fast they push the relationship and how much they demand from their boyfriend, they seem to always have a man by their side. And not only that, but a man who sticks with them…even when the relationship is brand new! 

I find myself asking over and over why all of these women can keep a man and I can’t???

Now, I fully admit that I have done my share of sabotaging and I have probably even made things dramatic when it really wasn’t needed. But I am aware enough of myself and work on myself enough to know that this is not my norm, I catch myself in the act and I nip it in the bud. This has not come without great effort (and many mistakes), but it’s something within myself that I am proud to have developed! And yet, I sit with these women daily who can be dramatic, irrational, overly emotional, accusatory, projecting on ‘their man’ and having inflated expectations—who are never single—and I can’t get a guy to stick around for more than a couple months. Excuse the language, but WTF???

In beginning of writing this blog I did my own form of reflective research and thought about several of the men I have dated in the past couple years and what the turning point was in the relationship that made them start to back away… While I fully acknowledge that I had a hand in many of these situations and my anxiety sometimes got the best of me, what I noticed is that whenever the relationship started to fizzle was when I had a “meltdown”. Yes, I put quotes around meltdown because when I compare my story to that of my clients, it’s a blip on the radar… My meltdowns:

1. The time that a guy I had been dating a couple months asked me if I would be ok with him going to a strip club with a friend—my response: I went waaaaaaaay inward and got very quiet and finally was able to say that it was an insecurity of mine, something about body image issues and that I would prefer that he didn’t go. A few days later was the last time I saw him. 
2. The time the guy I had been dating for a couple months long distance told me he wanted to be a white water rafting guide, meaning that by the time he was done with that gig we would have been dating nearly 9 months and seen each other less than 20 times. In this he thought he could fit me into his schedule once every couple weeks—when I asked how that was a progressing relationship, and not a hook up, he told me I expected too much and after ending the conversation he never spoke to me again.
3. The time when the guy I was dating had talked about getting together one evening after work; after him telling me he would call me when he was done eating to make plans for the night and not contacting me for 4 hours I asked him if he wouldn’t mind simply telling me the next time that it wasn’t going to work to hang out that night if he knew he didn’t want to/had other plans or something came up. After hearing about how that was too intense of a conversation for that point in the relationship and telling me that it was my problem, he slowly started to back off in communication until one day, a couple weeks later, he disappeared altogether. 
4. Oh yeah, and then the time that I asked my boyfriend of a couple months for an idea of what he thought the future would look like in terms of a timeline—this only after he had told me he loved me, he wanted to marry me, asked me how much he could spend on a ring and talked about asking my dad for permission to marry me—he said I was putting him in a box and pressuring him too much…a week later we were broken up.

Ok, stop laughing…yes, those truly were my “meltdowns” and those truly were the responses. I look back and see that there were a few things that I could have done differently in each situation. But generally speaking, my meltdowns that I had were about a .0000001 on the Richter Scale; certainly not worthy of breaking off a relationship over. Now, I am also aware enough to realize that if those “meltdowns” were the reason for a break up, there were probably other things going on—other things that it’s probably good I didn’t have to bear witness to on down the road, but still…that certainly does nothing for a girl’s confidence…and leads me to believe perhaps I should consciously be immature, dramatic, needy, clingy and have a lot of issues that need to be solved in order to keep a boyfriend. 

This trend has me absolutely befuddled and I admit, I am still grasping for reasons this happens. After enlisting the wisdom and support of one of my over-30-and-single girlfriends about this we are still completely confused but have recognized a few things…  When something happens to me, whether it be in a relationship or life in general, it seems there are two ways to go about handling about it:

The first way is to react…meaning go with my gut, say whatever comes to mind, get dramatic, yell, scream, cry, give the silent treatment, become manipulative, project, become the victim, become passive aggressive or maybe even downright aggressive! Reaction means I can do anything I want to do in order to get my point across, soothe my wounds and protect myself without necessarily taking into account how that other person might feel that is the recipient of your reaction. The goal for this situation then becomes to simply restore a sense of normal as fast as possible. As long as the other person complies with your wish as fast as possible the hope is that the situation will calm down. Unfortunately, this type of handling never seems to solve the root issue because the next time that someone does something you don’t like, the reaction is the same. As big and dramatic as this form of handling is, I can’t help but wonder if it’s preferable for a man. There is something tangible to fix. She wanted you to pick up toilet paper on the way home…run to Target and pick it up. Problem solved. As confused as that man might be in regards to what just happened, as soon as it starts, he knows exactly what to do to make it better.  Men love fixing things, so this reaction, in a weird way, speaks a language they understand. 

The second way to handle a situation is to respond. Responding to a situation means one much be must slower, reflective and understanding of what is truly going on inside of them. Responding to a situation requires that one must first go inwards and recognize the underlying emotion and message that is being triggered in the situation and then deal with that first before bringing someone else into that space. Responding to a situation means owning my response, anxiety and desire to act out of rage and spend a minute identifying what part of me has just been wounded and what is really going on and why I have the urge to get really big or hide from the situation. When I go through this process internally and with awareness I can then reach out to the person I am trying to communicate with and let them know what just happened for me and what I need from them (compassion, empathy, affirmation, support, etc.) And while at face value this seems like it should be no big deal to offer this to someone, it also requires that the other person dig deeper within themselves and tap into that same, deep place in order to offer back to you what you are asking for. It’s more than getting toilet paper from Target or making the bed the next morning. 

It seems to me that when a strong and aware woman shows a vulnerable side of her the man must also be strong and aware in order to be vulnerable himself and offer the deeper, empathetic response. But that, my friends, is hard to do. It means I might have to tap into something in myself that I don’t like. It means it’s not about being right or wrong. It means it’s actually not even about fixing something. It’s simply about being present and open, and that is much easier said than done. In fact, it’s so much easier said than done that in those moments where a deeper response is required, it feels better to give back your own reaction. 

As I reflect back on my ‘meltdown’s’ that I have had (above), I can say with certainty that each time I responded rather than reacted. Each time I have expressed my concern only after an internal process has taken place and I am able to identify where it hurts, what I need to do myself and what I might need from the other person. And each time I asked for what I needed it came after being brutally honest with myself and recognizing at the core level I had been touched. And when I think about it, it probably does seem easier to buy crunchy peanut butter instead of creamy and take the garbage out rather than empathically taking someone into consideration, acknowledging them at their deepest level and responding accordingly.

I have to be honest…I don’t know if this is why when a ‘meltdown’ occurs I find myself being phased out of someone’s life. Maybe I have really bad manners, laugh with a horses whinney or have poor hygiene. (And if that’s the case, will someone please tell me?!?) But one thing I do know is that I’m not going to stop responding. And while I am aware that this does not come naturally for people, men and women alike, if someone isn’t interested in at least trying, then perhaps he’s not my guy.

I realize I am a strong and independent women. I think that’s probably an attractive quality to men as they seek a potential partner. But more than those characteristics, I am a human. I have emotions, thoughts, experiences, wounds and desires to prove it. But this doesn’t make me weak and it doesn’t make me dependent. It doesn’t (necessarily) make me dramatic, immature or irrational. It simply points to my humanity. And after having spent enough years of my life trying to hide it, deny it or conform it to someone else’s ideal and it’s not something I am interested in anymore. And to that end, if his reaction to my humanity is to walk away, I will stay true to myself and continue to respond. 

The Right Way to Date

The last relationship I was in that had a serious tone to it, in some ways was a ‘book end’ for me. …The end of a long list of men that I dated who’s purpose in my life seemed to be preparing me for the future. I look back now and can see that each of those relationships helped me grow stronger, face myself and continue healing. I watched as moments that would cause me great anxiety in relationships after my abusive relationship, slowly subsided and I was able to nurture my own fears. The frantic ‘not knowing’ that is present in so many relationships that would cause severe panic and desperation started to become patience and a loosening of control that allowed me to enjoy each moment. But I came to realize that even though I was learning some great lessons, it was exhausting! So, after the last serious-type relationship, I decided I needed a break from dating.  

It hasn’t been until recently that I have found the energy and motivation to get back out there.  And what I am coming to realize is that I have a fairly jacked up view of what dating is supposed to look like…or even how to date. 

Now, before I go on record saying that there is one right way to go about dating, I want to clarify and say that there isn’t. And in some ways, that’s part of the problem.  I grew up believing that there was one specific and Godly way to date. But it wasn’t really dating either. It was this weird conglomeration of beliefs and values taught by the Church that culminated in an overarching persuasion that prior to even going out on the first date with someone, you had to have an almost certain knowledge of if you were going to marry that person or not. (Yes, you heard me correctly…BEFORE the first date). To this end, my job as a woman was to wait patiently for a man to see me and pursue me. In many ways I did not have a choice over who I would have an opportunity to date. Pursuit of a man in any way, even conversation, was considered overstepping my role as a woman and likely manipulative. (I was told by many men that my friendly personality towards everyone was overly flirtatious, lacking submission, disrespectful and manipulative.) In this way of dating, if a man should see me as someone he would want to pursue with the intent of marriage it would be wise for me to accept, especially as I got older. Even if I was not especially attracted to him or envisioned myself with a different type of man, I was told to question myself for selfish motives and shallow or superficial expectations. 

Dating in this realm was very calculated and prescribed. There was a neat list of rules to abide by and a pattern to follow that, if subscribed to, would supposedly lead to a beautiful, pure, Godly marriage—one with few problems and much bliss and ease as this was the way God had designed it. 

Needless to say, I think my personality did not lend well to this mentality no matter how hard I tried to fit into it. And because I was ok having men as friends and thoroughly enjoyed those relationships, I was considered dangerous to some. (Mind you these friendships with men were not “friends with benefits”…I didn’t even kiss a guy, let alone anything else, until my very late 20’s. So we’re talking platonic friendships!)

Coming out of that ‘era’, while needed, was also a source of much confusion. I felt like a stereotypical pastors kid…the kid who rebels once she goes off to college because she is finally no longer under the watchful eye of her parents, the church and the community. While my intent was not necessarily to rebel, the only thing I could think of in my mind was to do the exact opposite of anything that resembled the old version of dating. In many ways doing the opposite came from a place of total innocence. And in that, I naturally swung to the other side of the spectrum. 

While swinging to the other side of the spectrum never took on a sense of extremity, it was definitely a different way of living than the previous years. Dating was no longer about pursuing marriage but rather just having fun, sometimes drinking too much and on occasion, waking up next to someone I knew very little of. Definitely not some of my proudest moments and yet, still incredibly important to experience. All the things that I was supposed to already know before going on a date with someone (e.g. "is this someone I could marry?") flew out the window. Needing a relationship to follow a detailed and specific pattern (and timeline) no longer was the norm. Having to tell someone 'older and wiser' every action and thought that I had/did, all the while being judged, no longer resembled the flavor of my life. In a sense, I was experiencing freedom.

But even freedom can be scary. Freedom in excess, with no boundaries, with no values, with no sure ground to stand on can actually feel like another form of 'slavery'. While I did not have anyone telling me what I could and could not do, I was basically setting myself up to have shallow relationships, get my heart broken and put myself in potentially dangerous situations. Everything about that lifestyle is in the moment, instant gratification, delayed consequences, act now and think later--all things to me that seem to be appealing for the short term but exhausting, confusing and devastating in the long run.

At some point I began to figure out that neither side was great to camp out at and while there seems to be a few beneficial things to 'take' from each side of the spectrum, generally it leaves a person floundering a bit trying to figure out how to navigate a relationship. If a relationship isn't about a formula, repression and rules but it also isn't about instant gratification, excess and moving from person to person, then what is it?

It took me a while to understand the appeal of camping out at one side of the spectrum (or the other) and why it felt so foreign to find some sort of a working balance. Either side of the spectrum essentially requires no thought. One the one side you have someone dictating your every move, every thought and every relationship. There is a very clear cut way regarding what you can and cannot do and as long as you stick to it and don't question it, you're good. At the very least, you don't have to think because someone else has prescribed it for you. 

On the other side of the spectrum you also don't think because it's all about acting without thought. While there are no rules to dictate your next move, the absence of rules means that thinking is scary, so you do whatever comes naturally, instantly and with the most pleasure and gratification. Everything goes, nothing is off limits; every thought, desires and action is valid and worthy of gratification. Again, it's a side that involves no thought. 

My quest for understanding what dating should look like (not in terms of right way/wrong way but rather the best fit for me) seems to land in this area of balance...somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. It's a place that involves a lot of thought and honest reflection and awareness--not something that most people are interested in. It means actually pausing and understanding what it is that you want, desire, need, value, prefer, get anxious by, what triggers you, your baggage...and making sure that the way you do relationships is coming from the highest value of who you are versus how various groups of people dictate it to you. Being on either side of the spectrum offers an amount of safety. If someone else is dictating what life and relationships need to look like instead of you having to think for yourself, you never truly need to pause and wonder if this is best. The land of balance includes intentionality and thought as well as honesty and humility. 

That balance is what I am still working on. I've spent many hours thinking, processing and journaling about what I want a relationship should look like that mirrors neither side of the spectrum exclusively. And while things are starting to come together on paper, transferring that now onto the dating field poses a totally different adventure. It's kinda like the concept of only being able to read about how to fix a car for so long before you actually have to go out and try it. Same with dating, boundaries, values, relationships and balance. It's great to take a break and figure things out, figure out what I want, but at some point I have to actually get back out there and do it. That's the point that I am at now. 

So, here I am, the other side of a few months long break from dating and it's time to put my money where my mouth is. It's not easy though! If the date isn't required to end in marriage or a one night stand, is it ok to only know that I like him enough to go on a second date? If it's not about having to follow a specific job description of a Biblical Woman, is it ok to initiate communication? And if so, how much? And how much communication should I expect from him? How many dates do I need to go on with someone before I feel ok to kiss them, or talk about deeper things or invite them over to my house (or go to theirs)? If I am not required to keep my parents and all those who are older and wiser than me in the loop, who do I actually tell that I am dating someone and at what point? These are just a few of the questions that are rolling around in my head.

I have to admit even though not having the answers immediately can be frustrating, having the space to ask questions is quite freeing. Asking questions and being able to think through the answers means that I am not subjected to any one person or one idea of how a relationship is supposed to go. In some ways it's very fluid and can be tailored to fit a specific relationship while at the same time stable enough to rest on a strong foundation of my personal values and beliefs. And while this land of balance certainly does not offer immediate answers, I can't help but wonder if part of the gift of asking questions and searching is the opportunity to have a relationship that is a reflection of me. 

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 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

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.”