The Myth About 'Guarding Your Heart'

Growing up, the message I heard consistently about dating was to “guard my heart”…I was told that I didn't want to put myself out there because every time I allowed myself to be smitten with a guy, I was told, a little piece of my heart had been given to them—a piece that I could never get back. I was warned that if I wasn’t careful, when my future husband came along I would only have shreds of my heart left to give him. In fact, I was told that because a marital union meant a husband and wife were one, even if I hadn’t met him if I was dating someone who wasn’t my [future] husband and giving him my heart, emotions, body, time or mental connection that I was actually cheating on my husband. 

One night at youth group we had a speaker from the True Love Wait’s campaign (a ‘campaign’ designed to promote Godly dating and abstinence before marriage). Amidst a few skits and stern mini-sermons one of the speakers started talking about this concept of guarding your heart. In her hands she had two paper hearts cut out of construction paper; she used glue to bind the hearts together and started talking about a relationship in which the boy and girl gave themselves to each other in all ways and became really attached to one another. As she told the story with every mention of attachment and connection she pressed the two paper hearts together a bit more. Inevitably at the end of the story the two went off to college and broke up; the speaker tore the two hearts a part to demonstrate the relationship ending…and her point. Each heart had remnants of the other heart on them, there were holes in the hearts; clearly the hearts were not whole. This is what our hearts would become, or worse, if we didn’t guard them. 

I made ridiculous rules to follow because of this. Initially I said I was going to wait until my wedding day to even kiss someone—not because I really wanted to do that but because I was pressured to; I was told that it would make me more holy and therefore more desirable to a Godly man. I decided too that I wouldn’t tell anyone I loved them except for my husband, which subsequently meant I would need to wait until my wedding day to do that too. I took pride in those things and was applauded by others. 

It took me a lot of years to figure out that many of the things I had learned as a teenager were not necessarily conducive to healthy relationships. Slowly I came to my own conclusions about what I thought was “ok” or “not ok”—based not on someone else’s set of rules but my own experiences and trusting myself to know what was healthy and honoring for me. The one thing I was holding out on was saying “I love you” to someone. It wasn’t that I hadn’t loved anyone; I had been in love a couple of times—I just never said those words.  Sure, I want those words to be special but ultimately I wasn’t saying them because I feared that they would somehow cheapen the words on down the road. Or I feared that if I said them to someone who I later broke up with, I would then be so broken and shredded that I would have nothing left to give. 

I remember a couple conversations with guys that I dated over the years, two stand out in particular, in regards to putting yourself out there. While both understood that it was a risk they spoke of a greater reward that was possible if you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. I remember one of them saying, “if you love someone, why wouldn’t you want to just tell them?” I knew he was right and I saw how powerful those words were a couple months later when I spoke them to him as his face lit up, tears ran down his face and he told me how much it meant that I had said that to him. When we broke up I thought I would feel immediate regret for saying those words to someone who I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life with, but I didn’t.

And so, that brings me to the Bachelorette. You didn’t think I would neglect the fact that this show came on again this week, did you? No, my friends, I have been waiting for an embarrassingly long time for the show to begin. I’ll spare you the details of the awkward entrances the first night; I’m not even going to discuss how it made me squirm to “pit” two girls against each other to get the guys to vote for them to be the bachelorette (…talk about my worst nightmare!) I have no problem saying I was rooting for Kaitlyn all the way, despite the fact that a long time acquaintance and old friend, Brady, was on the show vying for Britt’s heart. 

I certainly don’t claim to know either of the girls, nor any of the contestants, sans Brady, and despite the fact that surely people are edited to look a certain way or appear to be a specific character on the show, I do think that with cameras around you all the time it’s difficult for your true self not to come out (even if you are trying to hide it). Britt often times seemed to receive a lot of flack (and even hatred) from people for her wishy-washiness or overly positive and grateful attitude—I admit, I exercise extreme caution with her in trying to understand who she is (while simultaneously maintaining a major hair crush on her as well as noting that her natural beauty, charisma and kindness would be potentially intimidating to me if I was in a room of guys with her!) So while we only see parts of her through TV and social media, there is a consistency in her character in terms of ‘putting herself out there’ and loving without abandon but instead with hopefulness and ernest pursuit. 

Spoiler alert: Britt was not chosen by the guys as the Bachelorette and so in the first few minutes of the two-night premiere we see the news being delivered to her and her exit in the limo she had arrived in just hours before. In her video ITM (In The Moment) as she leaves the Bachelor Mansion she says, heartfelt-ly: 

“I don’t know how many times you have to put your heart there and I’ve never held anything back, what can I do differently? I have a lot of love to give, I really do. And I know that I will when the time was right, I just thought that that was now.”

One could easily think that after being rejected on national TV not once, but twice, she would have every right for cynicism or even walls of protection being built up so that she didn’t get hurt but what seems unique and true to her is that she doesn’t build walls and she doesn’t get cynical. (I say these things knowing fully that I don’t know her and only see about 2% of her life that is edited for a TV show…but just go with me!) She continues to put herself out there, open herself to love and if and when she is let down she uses those experiences to expand her heart and capacity to love the next person. I could imagine that the people who are in her life as her friends and family likely feel very cared for by her since she seems to view loving someone as a gift rather than a risk. 

I don’t know how many times Britt has been in love with someone; I don’t know how many times her heart has been broken. I don’t know if she, growing up, was taught in youth group to guard her heart or give her heart. I only know that what we see of her on TV offers a different perspective of loving someone that I was taught to fear. 

I’m starting to wonder if the act of loving doesn’t take some practice. It strikes me as odd that I was taught that I should only truly be and act loving towards one person—that some how if I kept my love at bay or hidden I could flip a switch and suddenly love someone in a beautiful, authentic and vulnerable way. It strikes me as odd that guarding your heart in order to have a beautiful relationship actually breeds the opposite: walling up, protecting myself and being terrified of being hurt—nearly unable to withstand being hurt even (which is the definition of weakness). Putting yourself out there, being vulnerable, showing your love and being open with another (romantically or otherwise) surely has it’s risks and there will unfortunately (and likely) be times where our love is taken advantage of, misunderstood, not reciprocated or discarded altogether. But then there are those moments where love is returned, where vulnerability is matched, where safe relationship occurs and hearts are healed because of putting yourself out there. I don’t think the two cancel each other out; I think they both affirm the importance of continuing to seek out true love and true relationships. 

Simply stated I am starting to thing think the more you love, the more love you have to give.

The {Courageous} Art of Being Vulnerable

Kaitlyn, Becca & Whitney

“Intense” is the only word I can use to describe this last episode of the Bachelor. We are down to three girls which, in the world of the Bachelor, is known infamously as the time when the Fantasy Suite dates occur. For those non-versed in Bachelor language, Fantasy Suites are the dates consisting of the Bachelor and each of his remaining 3 girls getting to have an overnight date--with no cameras--to talk, get to know each other more and do…whatever they want…  And because of the appeal of no cameras with them for the first time on their journey, it’s usually unlikely that anyone declines this date—regardless of any preconceived notions that the TV viewing audiences have! 

Often times the themes surrounding this episode is of opening up, sharing where you are really at with your feelings and how you see the future with that person. It’s often filled with awkward conversations as difficult questions are asked or unexpected answers are given. Some of the contestants are highly articulate while others painfully struggle to complete sentences. I mean really, it’s almost difficult to watch! 

So let me introduce Kaitlyn, one of Prince Farming’s final three girls. She made quite the entrance at the beginning of the season, identifying herself as the girl who wasn’t afraid to say or laugh at dirty jokes, but also showed herself to be very down to earth, well spoken, intuitive and un-dramatic. I admit, it took a minute for her to grow on me, but as the season wore on it became quite apparent that her, perhaps vulgar, edge acted more as a layer of protection for her as she, admittedly, did not want her heart to be broken. There have been moments in the last few weeks where she has recognized this guard she keeps up and her desire to be softer and even credits our Bachelor with being able to tap into that side of her. And while she acknowledges her fear of loss, she desperately wants to let that guard down. 

Prior to the invitation to go to the Fantasy Suite she and Chris (the Bachelor) are discussing this very concept—letting your guard down. Kaitlyn states something so powerful: “I’ve always thought that [being vulnerable] was a negative thing, but it’s not. It’s almost like I am at my best self when I am vulnerable because I can just open up with how I am feeling and talk about it and accept it.” My little therapist self did a little cheer from my couch as her words offer so much insight into the risk of a relationship and the empowerment of vulnerability. 

Brene Brown, in her book, “Daring Greatly”, defines vulnerability as: capable of being wounded and open to attack or damage. At first glance that sounds absolutely terrifying, right? Who would willingly put themselves in a situation in which they can be hurt, wounded, taken advantage of or broken? It seems absurd that anyone would seek to be vulnerable without being able to guarantee their own safety (physically, emotionally, spiritually, socially, mentally, etc.) And when we factor into that our own life experiences, our families, our relationships, our traumas and our hardships, the thought of jumping into a situation in which vulnerability is required—where being wounded is a legitimate possibility—is usually the opposite of what we are interested in doing. 

So, we build walls. We create defense mechanisms. We numb things out. We use humor, food, sex, surface level conversations, avoidance, alcohol, TV, shopping, pills, other people, lying, sarcasm, and anger outbursts to our benefit and focus on these things rather than dare letting someone hurt us again. We become an impenetrable force so that no one can hurt us like they once did. Anytime someone tries to get close to us, we can pull from our bag of tricks to keep them from getting too close—close enough to hurt us. 

And for a while, this feels really good. It feels nice to not have to worry about being hurt, used, manipulated, deceived, played or heartbroken. It feels nice to feel like you can breathe and that you are now in control of your situation.

But then something odd happens. After we have securely built our walls, ensuring that no one can touch us, ensuring that we are safe, ensuring that we are the opposite of vulnerable, we realize that we are alone. I mean alone, alone. Isolated. We have worked so hard at not allowing ourselves to get hurt that we have simultaneously kept out any semblance of meaningful relationship. We are not known to anyone else in a deep and intimate way; we are empty. We are alone. 

So, while we are not being hurt by others, we are instead hurting ourselves. In the isolation we have created as a shield of protection we now find bitterness, resentment, self-pity, toxic shame, depression, lust, pride, anxiety and apathy. The more we sit in these things the more isolated we feel which only fuels each of these things even more. I like to call it the yuck cycle. And the thing is, it’s not coming from people hurting us repeatedly, it’s not coming from our relationships; it’s coming from us—from our desires to keep ourselves safe. From our desire to be invulnerable. 

I come from a family that discourages emotional expression. In fact, in my experience, emotional expression has come under harsh critique, judgement and punishment at times. Part of my own process of healing has been understanding what I feel and allowing myself to feel those things and trust the process. A while back my family went through the death of a loved one and the emotional pain was excruciating. Knowing that I would be entering into a situation that was emotionally unsafe, I made a conscious decision to numb out all emotion and bury it until I returned to the safety of my own home. For a week I actively shoved these emotions and experiences down until I thought I might burst. Never had I felt so alone, never had I felt so horrible about myself, never had I not cared as much—in fact because I was so determined to keep this all in, to not feel the pain for fear of being hurt even more, my body literally manifested the pain. In less than 24 hours of arriving in my hometown I gained nearly 10 pounds—it was the only place that my body could find relief in expressing that emotion!  I felt raw and numb all at the same time and had to isolate myself in my own little world in order to remain un-wounded. 

I think many of us have stories like these. I don’t think that any of us are immune from this process; I would venture to say that all of us either have been, will be or are in a place where the thought of being vulnerable is terrifying and the walls of protection seem so much more appealing. It’s our human nature to want to protect ourselves from being hurt and wounded. And yet, as I reflect on my own experiences, both in the recent and distant past, I see that my iron-clad pursuit of keeping myself safe is what ends up hurting me more. 

I think it feels natural to, as Kaitlyn said, view being vulnerable as negative—even as scary. But when we open ourselves to being vulnerable—to risking, even when there is the possibility of getting hurt—we also open ourselves up to relationship, to life, to freedom, to love, to joy and to intimacy. And isn’t this what a relationship (romantic or otherwise) is all about? Being vulnerable does not give us guarantees, it does not give us a life-long pass from hurt and pain but it can give us so much more. When we can stand in front of another free from judgement, scrutiny, conditions, harshness and negativity I think we truly do open ourself up to the possibility of being our best self.

    

Your Story is Not You

This week’s episode of the Bachelor has me perplexed. Since the episode ended last night, I have tossed around various ideas of what to write about today…there were certainly a few redeeming moments of the show—when Whitney discussed the importance of being kind to someone even when we didn’t like their actions; when Becca offered empathy and compassion to the Bachelor in the midst of a hard situation. Or when Carly spent time conversing with Chris and asking questions—doing an excellent job of sharing just enough of her heart, experiences and genuine fears in an effort to be known, yet not giving everything away (instead of spending her one-on-one time making out with him.) These were important moments of the night and definitely should not be overlooked. But unfortunately these moments did not stand much of a chance in being some of the pivotal themes of the night due to a few of the other girls’ handling of themselves and their emotions.

For those of you who don’t watch the show, we are introduced to Kelsey at the beginning of the season in a video vignette as she shares with us that she is a widow; her husband passed away abruptly, a mere 18 months ago, due to heart failure. America’s heart went out to this young woman as they embraced her story and her chance to find love again. Kelsey has stayed somewhat in the shadows the entire season, likely due to editing, but has started to make a bit of a name for herself in the past couple episodes which led up to her grand entrance on the episode last night. 

With the other widow being booted off the show in the previous episode, Kelsey now had the most tragic story in the house and she knew it. She began sharing it with the other girls in the house during this episode—catching the girls off guard as to the timing of sharing her story. We hear her say “I can’t go home without him knowing my story”, so without the other girls’ knowledge, Kelsey sneaks to Chris’ room to tell him of the death of her late husband. Awkward is probably a mild word to describe the exchange. As Kelsey shares her story, in depth, the editing cuts back and forth between her conversation and her individual interviews as she talks about how fabulously tragic and amazing her story is. She proclaims that there is undeniable sexual tension between she and Chris and we cut to Kelsey finishing her story and awkwardly planting a passionate kiss on Chris. And, since Chris’ coping skill in all situations awkward (or not awkward) is kissing, he obliges—though his body language indicates he would rather not be there with her. 

Cut to the end of the episode and Chris lets the other women know that Kelsey has shared her story with him—this after she condescendingly shares with the girls how confident she is that she will get a rose tonight. After realizing what is happening the girls begin their chatter and we end the episode with Kelsey on the floor having a ‘panic attack’ as we hear Ashley I.—the self-proclaimed virgin who has spent at least half of her on-air time trying to convince people that it’s not a big deal and and the other half creating drama due to her insecurities over this very same choice—break out in frustration and tears stating, “great, now someone else’s story is more tragic than my own.” 

Drama at it’s finest!

"I'm a virgin, it's not a big deal"--Ashley I.

As I contemplated what to write today, over and over I kept coming back to the overarching theme of the episode being that there were girls who were promoting and defining themselves as women and the totality of who they were based on one choice or one experience. They were viewing their existence among the other women as a game in which they were seeking to come out on top. If I have the most tragic story, I win. If there is another virgin in the house, I lose. And in getting caught up in these mere experiences or choices being what defined them as a woman, so many of these women (who I am sure are truly wonderful) began their demise—when their experience was invalidated so was their identity. 

Now, I am the first one to say that coming through a tragic situation or making a choice that is unpopular in the eyes of others takes an amount of courage. And I would never want to suggest that someone’s experience or decisions weren’t absolutely pivotal in their lives and had a lasting impact on them; we all know that there are certain moments in life that change who we are. But to suggest that one experience or one decision is what makes us who we are entirely, shortchanges our identity and leads to a fragile view of ourselves. Our experiences and choices challenge us, affirm us, devastate us and bring amazing joy into our lives. Sure, sometimes our experiences and choices even seem to beat the hell out of us—bringing us to a place of feeling wrecked for a while. But our choices and situations are just that—choices and situations. They aren’t us. They don’t define the totality of who we are or the essence of our character. Our choices and experiences are a small part of who we are; they are not all of who we are. 

One of my favorite authors, Brene Brown, made a statement that owning of our story is one of the bravest things that we can do—and I agree wholeheartedly. The ownership of our story however, is the sharing of different parts of us—the different experiences, relationships and emotions that have helped us grow, learn and go through the refining process. Loving ourselves through that process makes space for celebrating that our stories are not bigger than us, more attractive than us, more tragic than us or even what defines us.  They are, simply, stories.

My hope for us all is that we would desire for others to be attracted not to our stories but rather the person we became--the person we are--as a result of all of these different cards that life has dealt us. When someone is attracted to us for our character, rather than the character we played in a story, they are worth keeping around! 

Lessons From a Cruise Ship Singer

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.”