My Anthropologie Quilt

Since Christmas I have been saving my money to buy a bedding set from Anthropologie. They are quite pricey but they are beautiful, well made and so soft; I found one on their website that seemed to fit my style and personality and so I faithfully kept my eye on it as I continued tucking money away. Then the text came from my sister-in-law that it was finally “Anthro-days” which meant that members got 20% off; it was finally time to buy this beautiful bedding set. It was already in my cart, all I needed to do was hit the “purchase” button; I smiled with excitement when I did. 

I was dismayed to see a message pop up on my screen that the beautiful quilt I was ordering was on back order and wouldn’t ship until the end of July. I quickly scrolled through the other bedding sets on the site to see if perhaps I should order a different one— which only confirmed that this was the one that I wanted—so I indicated that I was ok waiting until the summer; I had already waited 3 months, what was another few months going to hurt?

A few days later the pillow shams that were a part of the bedding set arrived at my door; I admired their beauty but was simultaneously sad that I would have to wait another four months to complete the set. A week later I checked my bank account and noticed that the remaining amount of the order total had been charged to my card. This could only mean one thing: somehow the quilt wasn’t back ordered and it was about to ship! I checked my Anthropologie account and to my delight it was preparing for shipment—in two days it was going to be on my doorstep!

Out of sheer giddiness I checked the tracker the next day and saw that the delivery date had been moved back a week. A week? How could I stand to wait another week for this quilt? It seemed like such a long time (and I realize even as I am writing this how overly dramatic I sound, but these were really the thoughts going on in my head!) I checked back every day, multiple times per day even, to see where it was at in the shipping process, what part of the country my quilt had traveled to that day and crossed my fingers as I hoped to see that perhaps the delivery date had been moved up. No such luck. The UPS gods didn’t seem to feel my quilt delivery was as urgent as I did. 

In moments of reflection (or maybe sanity?) it has struck me as odd how impatient I was about this quilt. Just a few weeks ago I thought this quilt would arrive as a belated birthday gift and I was prepared, and willing, to wait. But the possibility (and now reality) of it being here months sooner somehow decreased my ability to wait and my gut reaction was “what’s wrong with me?”

I have always been told that patience is a virtue. Patience has always been a characteristic that I have admired and desired to cultivate in my own life. In many ways, patience seems to be my middle name.

Being patient is one of the bedrocks of being a therapist; I go at the speed my client needs to go at rather than the speed I would prefer. I remember, after observing one of my sessions, my intern told me “how can you be so patient with her? Don’t you want to just tell her the answer?” It was true, I could have told her the answer that she was looking for. It would have been much easier (and likely could have saved her some time and money in therapy), but part of my need to be patient was so that she could figure out the answer herself. Only by providing a space to be patient and free of hurrying was she going to be able to come to a lasting and meaningful conclusion herself.

As a young adult I used to pray for patience. I chuckle now that I felt so urgent about praying for patience—obviously if you are praying for patience there is something that you need to be patient for. Back then I was praying for patience to wait for my future husband. As a newly graduated high school senior, I had no idea that patience might mean 15+ years of waiting! I don’t pray for patience in that area anymore—I pray for an expedited process! 

Perhaps it was the culture I grew up in, the stigma around stating what you really needed or wanted or the societal push towards hyper-independence, but somewhere along the way I started to believe that part of being patient meant denying the feelings and the process that went along with it. In my mind, praying for my future husband was supposed to somehow make it easier to be single or it should take away any lingering frustration that all of my friends were planning weddings and I was instead picking out bridesmaid dresses with them. 

In those moments feeling the frustration or downright denying that I had any sort of negative thoughts and emotions towards the situation(s) only made patience feel that much more unattainable. The harder I tried to ignore what I actually wanted and the more I tried to shove my emotions under the rug, the more of a struggle it was to actually embody this quality that I was praying for. 

What I have come to realize is this: my impatience for my quilt coming isn’t some sort of a character defect. It doesn’t mean that I am overly anxious or materialistic. My impatience comes from the fact that I am so excited about this quilt and what it represents. It was chosen carefully, it was well thought out and planned for and it was all about delayed gratification. It is one of the first purchases I have made for myself in which I wasn’t trying to simply get a deal or make due with the cheaper or knock off version of something even though I didn’t really like it as much as the original, more expensive version. The colors and pattern represent something about me and the season of life I am in; placing it on my bed pulls my room together in a way that is appealing to me rather than waiting to decorate in a way that is pleasing to the eye until I am sharing my bedroom with someone else. It’s about the quilt but it’s so not about the quilt. 

I’ve caught myself many times over the past week telling myself to calm down, reassuring myself that Wednesday will get here before I know it and I need to just think about something else. I am well aware that my strong desire for my quilt to get here is not actually going to speed up the process. But I am also realizing that trying to forget about it or give myself mental pep talks doesn’t necessarily make me feel better either. 

Melanie Beattie, in her book “The Language of Letting Go”, said, “do not confuse the suggestion to be patient with the old rule about not having feelings.” 

It has taken me a long time to give myself permission to accept the combination of patience and emotions. Like the song that my mother sang to us growing up, I immediately associated impatience with anxiety; there were many verses in the Bible that told us we weren’t supposed to worry, what we were supposed to do with our anxieties and the inverse assumption that if you were worrying there was something that you were trying to control (and therefore not fully trusting God). I think I likely prayed for patience in waiting [for my future husband] so that I wouldn’t be seen by others as being untrusting. Or in the case of my quilt, demonstrating patience somehow nurtured fears I might have about being materialistic or vain. 

But at the bottom of all of it is this: being patient isn’t about trying to pretend that everything is ok and that you like waiting for the thing you are waiting for. Patience doesn’t mean that the thing you are waiting for is delayed so that you really learn your lesson. Patience doesn’t mean I can’t anticipate, wish for or be excited for what is coming. Patience likely will require

waiting and it might also involve keeping yourself in check but I can’t help wonder if the characteristic of patience can also reveal the things that we desire the most, are the most important to us and have the deepest meanings in our lives.

It’s funny how much you can learn about yourself when you purchase a quilt. Seriously though, tomorrow needs to hurry up and get here…

The Gift of Loneliness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Life of a Bitch: My Experiences

A couple months ago I wrote a post featuring one of my favorite contestants on this season of the Bachelorette, Becca. She stood out to me because of her high value of herself and wanting to make sure that regardless of the outcome of the relationship with the Bachelor she stayed true to herself. In the blog I called Becca a bitch—with the definition of bitch being quite different than what you and I think of! In Sherry Argov’s book “Why Men Love Bitches” a bitch is described as someone who is strong yet kind; someone who does not put more merit on what others think of her than what she thinks of herself. 

So, between Becca’s example and agreeing with some of the comments in Ms. Argov’s book, I decided that this was something I was going to try with men. In my own life I have been working on ensuring that I see myself as valuable, worthy and with honor first—and then expecting that from others (in all types of relationships). Throughout my experiences dating I have developed a list of what I would consider red flags—comments or situations that, in my mind, warrant at the very least a pause for consideration, but likely just ceasing contact altogether. (My Red Flags are outlined in the picture to the right). 

I’ve gone back and forth on how to handle when these red flags up, but as I have continued dating various people, learning about myself and observing others in a relationship, I have come to realize that if one of these red flags are present it’s not likely that any sort of a healthy relationship could emerge. I am all for giving people second chances too—but as I think you can see from what my red flags are, if someone were to do one of these things I might question if they are even worthy of a second chance. The more I reflected on it, the clearer it became to me that if one of these red flags were present it was already evidence that he showed a lack of respect for me and I had the responsibility to, despite his actions or words, respect myself and cease contact/communication. 

With all of this ‘outlined’ for me and knowing, with confidence, how I desired to be treated by others, I began talking to different guys on a dating app. I started talking to a handful of guys; some of them fizzled out because they had no idea what a conversation was (ya know, both people asking and answering questions). Others ceased because there just didn’t seem to be any sort of connection. Some were automatic “no’s” as their opening line consisted of either a sexual line or simply outright asking me if I was “DTF” (if you don’t know what that stands for, just google it).  A few guys emerged from the pack though and we maintained communication via the app or through texting/talking on the phone. 

And then it happened. 

In a conversation with one of these men boys, he made a comment, disguised in a joking manner, asking me to have sex with him. This wasn’t new to me; there have certainly been many other times where I have been faced with this situation (unfortunate, but true!) but this time was different because I knew I couldn’t brush it off. I knew that I owed it to myself to stick to my “plan”. But this whole ‘really taking it seriously’ plan was such a new thing for me that I couldn’t seem to get the words out of my mouth so I instead ended the conversation and hung up the phone. I sat and contemplated what had just happened; each time I checked my phone I saw he had sent another text with questions getting to know me. I thought about letting it slide and just giving him a free pass, but I knew it was now or never. Because we had only had one phone conversation and the majority of our communication had been via text, I felt comfortable addressing this via text (and I may have been just a wee bit nervous). So here is how it went down: 

Obviously I had no reason to respond to this, but I was taken aback. It’s hard to hear people make comments to me that the reason for me being single is because I chose to stand up for myself and respect myself when he clearly wasn’t.  (And if he truly did want to learn something from the mistake, I think he had every opportunity do so in how he chose to respond to me). I have been called all kinds of things in reaction to declining the offer to sleep with someone, go on another date with someone or continue communication with someone: a prude, uptight, someone who has too much baggage, religious, intimidating, a snot, judgmental…the list could go on. It’s sad that I’ve gotten used to words like that but it’s also a source of affirmation to me when they say those things that I have made the right choice. 

But being told that the reason I am single is because I am not willing to put up with devaluing behavior hurts just a little bit more. It feels like more of a personal attack—like an invitation to shame… “if I just wasn’t so sensitive to people’s sexual solicitation of me, then maybe I wouldn’t be single… if I just had more of a sense of humor about sexual encounters and requests, then maybe I would have a date on Friday night…” And on top of that is this keen awareness that if the situation were reverse and a guy were to turn down a girl’s request for sex he would be considered noble, respectful, upstanding and would likely become even more attractive in the eyes of others. Being a bitch is hard!

I don’t regret standing up for myself—I never do. I know I have a sense of humor, am nonjudgmental and have dealt with the things I need to deal with. I know that those comments are thrown at me because that particular man feels the need to defend himself to try and make himself feel better (wait, isn’t that the definition of a bully?) but it still isn’t always easy to hear them. I mean, the fact of the matter is I do wonder if the reason I am single is because I am too __________ or not enough __________. So when someone tells you that you are the very things that you are questioning about yourself, it’s hard not to get caught up in it. 

It’s in those moments though that I have to catch myself and offer a bit of reality and compassion to the situation. When I slow myself down and realize what has just happened—that he was disrespectful, bullying and defensive—it allows me the opportunity to offer kindness back to myself and affirm that I do not deserve being treated that way. I am given permission in that moment to see a future perspective knowing that if he is going to say those things to me, sometimes without even having met me face-to-face, that he’s not likely going to become more respectful and honoring as time goes on. 

And while yes, sometimes the ending of that situation means that I do sit alone on a Friday night or have to block people’s numbers in my phone, there is a lot of peace in knowing that my being a bitch has allowed me to dodge a bullet. 

Playboy and The Virgins

I think it’s safe to say I have a little Bachelor withdrawal…even watching Prince Farming on Dancing with the Stars isn’t quite as enjoyable as watching the ladies on the Bachelor. So I figured maybe I could ease out of my withdrawal by writing about an aspect of the show that really left an impact on me this season. 

One of the biggest story lines this season on the Bachelor was the past sexual activity—or inactivity—of the girls on the show. In an unprecedented move we had Jade who posed nude for playboy and Ashely I. and Becca who were virgins casted as contestants. While I am confident that in signing up for a reality TV show you also sign over the rights to your story (meaning that the producers can portray you and your story however they feel would make for the best TV), I think you would be hard pressed to find anyone who didn’t believe that the story of the playboy model and the virgin(s) were waaaaay overplayed. 

Besides the fact that these are mere choices that these women have made with their lives, the story lines created for the show created almost a pseudo-identity for each of these women that focused on only one aspect of who they were versus the totality of their character, life experiences, values and passions. Jade will forever be known as the girl who posed for playboy. Ashely I. will always be known as the girl who was a virgin and claimed it wasn’t a big deal while simultaneously becoming overly emotional about telling people. Becca will be known as the virgin who accepted a date to the Fantasy Suite. And for that, I am sad. I don’t know these girls personally but I feel entirely confident saying there is way more to them than this minute detail of their life. But now they are judged upon one thing. 

I think the reason this concept irritates me so much is because I have felt the same way in my own relationships. 

As a kid growing up in a very rigid religious culture, I remember hearing people’s stories (or testimonies, as we called them) of being steeped in a sinful lifestyle (drugs, sex, rock n’ roll…ya know all the cliches) and how God had swooped them up and saved them and their lives were changed. In some ways I was envious of their stories because they sounded so powerful and moving. Many times I was genuinely bummed that I wouldn’t have a story so powerful—I didn’t believe that someone could hear my story and see any necessity to believe in God. 

Fast forward a couple decades and life has changed significantly. Life has led me down some interesting paths and among other things I definitely have a story. And while I no longer believe that my story needs to necessarily be a “testimony” in someone else’s life, I do find that it can be quite powerful at times as I connect with others, empathize and encourage. I do have a deep understanding that my story is not me, my identity or the totality of who I am. But as I have entered into the world of relationships, I have found that other people believe the opposite to be true. 

If you’ve read my blog for any length of time you know that there are some sensitive parts of my life that people could have strong opinions about. My own journey in healing has taught me to be ok with these things, understand the impact and how to move forward. So for me, I am ok with my story. And part of my journey has also taught me that people need to earn the right to hear my story—a couple dates doesn’t warrant a place in my life to know all my deepest, darkest secrets and so I am cautious regarding with whom, what and how much of my story I share.

It never ceases to amaze me though how quickly the tone in a relationship can shift by people knowing little bits and pieces of my story as they begin to use that information to make assumptions about all of me. More than once I have been accused of projecting my past relationships onto current relationships because I have identified something that I have been triggered by or a preference that I have (known to me based on the work that I have done) that morphs into the person viewing me through a specific lens. I have been told on numerous occasions even that because I don’t feel comfortable sharing my story that it’s an indicator that I am not over it and “still have work to do”. I have even been broken up with by a guy because he wanted “…just once to not date someone who had been in an unhealthy relationship…” (I can’t help but wonder if he’s still single).

Suddenly, regardless of the amount that I share with that person, a cloud of judgement covers me as the other person now sees me through the lens of how he thinks a person with my past should act. It happened on the Bachelor…Chris expressed significant concern to hear that Becca had never been in love, said I love you or had sex. He wondered if she would really be able to handle a relationship like that. On more than one occasion he seriously questioned his relationship with her based on these facts alone. 

To be honest, I don’t carry shame and regret for the things that are in my past. Though I have had to process through a lot, I have much confidence that going through these things and healing from them are part of what makes me who I am. And I kinda like who I am! I wouldn’t trade the experiences I have had if it also meant I had to trade who I am now. But despite my confidence in myself and not carrying shame, guilt or non-acceptance for my story, I still find myself a bit fearful that other’s will not offer me the same grace. I do fear that someone would hear my story about being in an abusive relationship and handle it disrespectfully, with insincerity, projection or lacking in compassion; I worry that they will think I am too much to handle because of that one piece of my story instead of viewing me for all of who I am. 

I understand the process of snap judgement—it used to be something I was really good at, and you would be hard pressed to get me to change my opinion. I made judgements about people based on their past, what they were wearing, the types of jokes they would laugh at, the movies they watched, their sexual choices, the places they would go on dates, how often they went to church. I would take one small detail of who they were and let it grow and expand into a blanket that covered them and was the lens I would see them through. It was a regular habit of mine and I have worked hard to bring awareness, understanding and change to that so that I might view people with acceptance, compassion, curiosity and common humanity.  Perhaps it’s naive of me to think that because I strive to do this that others would do the same, but I remain hopeful that it could happen. 

I remember early on in my healing process I shared with my therapist that the previous weekend I was supposed to go on a second date with a guy who, the night before, had gotten drunk and was hungover. When he asked me to drive an hour to spend the day with him at his house instead of coming to my town per our original plans I was very triggered (based off of many similar situations in my abusive relationship). I recognized this immediately and explained to him that I didn’t feel like it was a good idea and being with someone who was hungover (on a second date, mind you) was something that felt really uncomfortable to me. He laid into me—told me I was projecting other relationships on to him, that I had unresolved issues, that I wasn’t at a place in my life to have a relationship and then gave me the silent treatment the rest of the day. I was absolutely flabbergasted at what had happened! My therapist stopped me at this point in the story and said “wait a second, so he judged you without even knowing you?” “Yes, I suppose he did,” I quietly answered. She looked at me with compassion in her eyes and said “if he treated you like that based off of that situation, can you imagine how poorly it could have gone if you shared your story with him?” 

She was right…he would not have been a good candidate to share those personal matters with; I abruptly ended the relationship. It became clear to me that day, and it’s something that I have to remind myself of over and over again, that if someone chooses to judge me based on one aspect of who I am—whether it’s my past, a value choice I make, a boundary or anything else—then he is clearly not worth my time. Yes, that’s way easier said than done; it can feel excruciatingly painful to have to end a relationship for those reasons, but I guess the way I see it is that the ending of that relationship gets me one step closer (or one guy closer) to finding a relationship with someone who not only accepts every part of me but embraces it and counts it an honor to be trusted with my story. 

Whitney is the Greener Grass

Nikki, Juan Pablo and Clare

Well, we have finally reached the end of another season of the Bachelor. As I was thinking about what to write today, I was reminded of the last season of the Bachelor with Juan Pablo and the way he had treated some of the women on his season, namely, Clare Crawly—the girl he didn’t pick in the end. There was so much drama leading up to the “After the Final Rose” special that news articles picked up the stories for days. While Clare was poised, classy and spoke courageously for herself (see my blog from last year about it, here) the drama surrounding Juan Pablo and his final choice, Nikki, is still being talked about. 

So as viewers sat around their televisions last night, most people prepared for the ending that happens every season—one girl leaving an utter mess, crying and confused as to why she didn’t get picked and the other girl being picked while America scratches their heads going “what the hell?” But, in a season that has been anything but drama-free, this final episode of the season was anything but dramatic. And I think it’s because there were only clear winners and no clear losers. 

Courtney and Lindzi 

What I mean by that is this: inevitably in almost all season finales one of the finalists is a “character” who is surrounded by drama or vanity or ego and the other, is usually a very clear choice because of their genuine, authentic, kind and sincere demeanor—and usually unchosen. Ben Flajnik chooses Courtney over Lindzi. Jake Pavelka chooses Vienna over Tenley. Juan Pablo chooses Nikki over Clare. We see it happen over and over again; and for me I know I feel the sting just like Lindzi, Clare or Tenley because once again, a good girl has been told she is not good enough as compared to a competitor that (though likely edited to look this way) seems to be on the show for “the wrong reasons”. 

Last night was different though. Despite Prince Farming’s painfully awkward conversation skills and seemingly inability to make swift choices (although, I don’t know if making swift choices is necessary if we are trying to decide who to marry), he really narrowed it down to two fabulous, undramatic and completely sincere, authentic, courageous and lovely women. Truly either one would have been a fabulous choice. Throughout the season these two women, Becca and Whitney, were devoid of drama, confident in who they are and seemed to put a lot of thought and sincerity into their relationships with Chris. 

[Even when producers tried to create some drama based off of Becca’s virginity or her uncertainty in wanting to proclaim her undying love and commitment to a man she had only known for six weeks (which, c’mon, after a few one-on-one dates and some scattered time inbetween, with cameras following you everywhere, would you be able to confidently move your entire life to Arlington, Iowa to be with a man you barely knew???), there just seemed to be a level of reality to Becca that was evident in her maintained physical standards and unwillingness to create a false sense of relationship or say thing that she knew she didn’t mean.] 

Even though I really liked Becca, I have to admit, I was thrilled that Whitney was the one that Chris proposed to. From their first date it was apparent that Chris was smitten with her and there was something about the dynamic that the two of them had that seemed like it could translate outside of the Bachelor bubble. On top of that, Whitney had a confidence and purpose about her that was missing from most of the girls. She was a woman who has worked hard at getting to where she is at—career wise, relationally, emotionally and mentally—and she stood head and shoulders above the rest. She spoke with eloquence and passion; articulating her thoughts and feelings with ease and certainty and she never shied away from telling Chris, the cameras, or America that this was a man she wanted to be with. 

After Whitney spent time with Chris’ family, Chris and his brother in laws and father collaborated in the garage to talk about what they saw. All of the men were clearly #TeamWhitney. When Chris began telling them about Becca, though completely unable to articulate why he liked her (red flag!) one of the brothers wisely said, “are you sure this isn’t just about the chase—us guys like going after what seems impossible”. AMEN!!! While Chris tried to assure him that this was not the case, I think it helped me be clear on why I was rooting so hard for Whitney. Sure, she might have come on strong (though I think that is probably just who she is, and it’s actually quite endearing) but her confidence of the relationship was getting overshadowed by Becca’s mysteriousness—so much so that he almost considered choosing Becca over Whitney. 

I will spare you the incredibly painfully awkward conversation between Chris and Becca where she refused to give him any semblance of hope to hold onto that she was interested in picking up her life to move with him or that she loved him and skip to the end. Chris chose Whitney. Through whatever methods of processing Chris used, Chris finally figured out that Whitney truly was the best for him—they were at the same place in life, they wanted the same things, and most importantly, she loved him and he loved her. 

In a re-cap blog, Bachelor host Chris Harrison made a great point saying, “Why we make life and love so difficult for ourselves I’ll never know, but we all do it.” So often, whether it’s on the Bachelor or in our own individual lives, it seems like we make decisions based on intrigue, mystery, the unattainable or even what we hope things could turn into instead of looking at the reality before us. That’s not to say that we shouldn’t dream, hope or that we should settle—we should absolutely go after what we want. But I agree with Chris Harrison in that we often times look over the things we want, the things we need, the things that match up with our values, passions and vision for our life because of the slim possibility that the grass maybe might be greener on the other side, maybe…if we try hard enough…maybe.  

This is not to say that Becca would have been a bad choice (in fact, I think she really won in her own way—talk about empowerment in continuing to voice her truth, stand up for what she wants and not give in to pressures just because it would create great TV…seriously, that’s a win in my book!) But Whitney was the best choice and because of that I think I have a little bit more hope in my own dating journey. Whitney never seemed to view this show as a competition—she maintained a sense of who she was and what she wanted and never swayed from it. 

For me, it has been discouraging to get passed over by guys in relationships because there is someone else who is more mysterious, more aloof, prettier, thinner, more loose, etc. Sometimes I question if I need to take myself down a few notches—not pursue my career with so much passion, lower my standards, appear less intelligent, loosen my boundaries. I can’t imagine that I would be happy with that but sometimes I think that if lowering my own happiness can take the edge off of loneliness it might feel good for a while. But the fact of the matter is that I would be asking someone to like me for something I’m not rather than embracing all of who I am. 

So that’s why I like Whitney—because she never swayed from who she was. She never lowered her standards to get more attention. She was confident in every move she made and word she spoke. And finally, finally it paid off as a farmer from Iowa took notice, decided to stop making life so difficult for himself and asked her to ride off into the sunset of forever in his tractor. 

The Bachelor is Real Life

I think I have a new bucket list item: go to a taping of the Women Tell All. For those non-Bachelor viewers, this is a episode taped in front of a live audience that airs the week before the Bachelor finale. The episode is characterized by drama, intense emotion, no holds barred questions, comments and reactions to what happened during the season as all of the jilted women who were sent home are gathered back into the room…together.  Within the first few minutes of the show tears were flowing, accusations being thrown out and fingers were being pointed vehemently. Classic. Trainwreck. And I loved every minute. 

Each week of the Bachelor there has been at least one shining moment that we can reflect back on to teach us a lesson but I honestly don’t know that there was much redemption to be had in this episode! It was hard to not take sides, even as a viewer, or get caught up in people’s stories; it was difficult not to formulate my own accusatory thoughts about certain women or deem some women as more fit for a relationship. And in a moment of authentic honesty, I think part of the reason I, and America, gets so worked up, or engaged or involved or indulged in this drama is that we find ourselves in the characters, the drama and the love story of the show.

I cannot imagine what it would be like to be in a house with 25 other women who are all dating the same man. I mean struggle with casually dating a few men at the same time who don’t even know each other—so having to live with other women who are vying for the attention and affection of a man that you are also, has got to be just pure torture. And not only that, in order to survive your stay on the show you actually have to befriend some of these women, hear their stories and even hear about their dates! I think my heart is racing just thinking about it…or maybe that’s just my 4th cup of coffee talking…  Regardless, if we’re talking a social experiment, this is the prime set up; if we’re honest, the Bachelor mirrors true life in some very important ways. 

We all want to find love

This is the 19th season of the Bachelor and filming is just about to begin on the 11th season of the Bachelorette. I have to believe part of the reason this show is so successful is that it taps in to our natural, human desires to be in a relationship withs someone that is characterized by intimacy, being known and being chosen. Regardless of the state of the dating culture—the hook ups, flings, putting off commitment and keeping things casual—at the core of each of us seems to be this tender and innate part of us that, if we listen to it, needs and desires connection the same way we need and desire food and shelter. We get caught up in the swirl of someone else’s romance because it’s actually what we want for ourselves (whether we are single, dating or married!) 

We are willing to go to extreme measures to find it

 I think we can all hearken back to a time where we might have done something regretful, extreme or at the very least, out of character, in order to find (or keep) love. This show plays into, again, this human nature to find that connection. Typically the things that are the most important to us are the things that we are willing to go out on a limb for, even if the rest of the world deems it ridiculous, wishful or extreme. Though she was named the season’s most controversial ‘character’, Kelsey Poe summed it up well in one of her interviews when she said she was, “…challenging myself in the adventure of love”. What a perfect description of the way we sometimes go about finding that special someone. 

We all have ugly sides that come out when a relationship is on the line

This is where that social experiment really sheds light on our common human experience—and what an episode like the Women Tell All really exemplifies. What we saw last night was ugly. Vindictive. Accusations. Condescendence. Lies. Manipulation. What was so interesting to watch was that instead of being frustrated with the process or with the man who had “broken their hearts” the women blamed others, played on emotion and quickly took sides. Instead of taking an honest look at their own relationships with the Bachelor, these women looked at external factors, hung their hats on nuances and semantics and tried as hard as they could to avoid the inevitable, heart wrenching feeling of being betrayed—of not being chosen—by Chris, not the other women. Instead of processing through this, showing disdain, disrespect and devaluing other people became the theme. 

This is not some brand new tactic to dealing with a broken relationship—I think we all do this. I think we would be hard pressed to find someone who would, initially, voluntarily sit in the loneliness that descends after a relationship is over or when we see that someone else is getting more attention or when things don’t turn out as we had hoped.  It’s way easier to focus on the external factors or even what I might have done wrong (in order to try and fix it for the next time), or even merely apologize for the ugly, mean, harsh or critical things that were said instead of actually exploring WHY they were said in the first place. I don’t think this makes you a broken person, I think it makes you human. 

We view love as a competition 

Even though this reality show is about finding love, let’s be honest—it’s a competition. There is a clear winner and 24 clear losers. I have said in blog posts in the past that good men seem to be few and far between and when that good man finally decides he is ready for a committed and intimate relationship, all he needs to do is lift his head and there are 25 eager women waiting to partner with him. We truly do feel the need to ‘win his heart’, and the Bachelor plays on this concept. 

Whether it’s being the funniest, the most intelligent, the sexiest, the strongest, the most artistic, the most passionate, the most creative or the most __________ (which is all incredibly subjective anyways), there seems to be a hustle to become the type of person that is marriage material before anyone else can take the lead. If someone else is chosen over you the feeling of loss that ensues is more that simply how you might feel if you lose a basketball game or your Bachelor Fantasy League (yes, that’s a real thing people!) it’s a feeling loss that means there is something inherently wrong with you. With me. Losing in the ‘competition’ of love gnaws at our self worth, our shame and our identity that holds a huge amount of power over us. 

We feel like the bridesmaid and never the bride

The essence of the show is that one person will be picked and 24 others will not. Our lives truly feel like the Bachelor…waiting to be picked as we look around and feel intimidated by the other women who seem to have it altogether, are more beautiful and can nab a guy’s attention in a way that we never seem to be able to. We smile, act happy and celebrate with those who have found love (and really, I am confident there is a lot of authentic genuineness in that) but inside we wonder, sometimes with desperation, when it will finally be our turn and when someone will be as admiring of us as we are them. 

I’ve been a bridesmaid at least ten times in my life; I’ve enjoyed these experiences and counted it an honor to stand up for my friend or sibling, but mustering up a smile in those moments (or for several hours at a time) can be downright painful at times. Holding back snarky comments, biting sarcasm or even tears can be difficult in those moments. If there was a microphone in my mind, regretfully, I might sound like some of the women who were interviewed last night. 

                                * * *

I am well aware the The Bachelor has many distinctions from our real life and our own love stories. At the very least, not having cameras following us around 24/7 offers an amount of actual reality that this show simply cannot. Most of us will never, knowingly, compete with 25 other women for the same guy; most of us will not have our most vulnerable thoughts and experiences showed to national audiences. Most of us would never even considering sign up for that. But most of us want love, most of us act temporarily or momentarily insane when something we want could be taken away from us, most of us are terrified of not being good enough or desirable enough and most of us want to be plucked out amidst a sea of faces and told that there is no one else in the world that could compare to us. So really, The Bachelor isn’t all that different from real life. 

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.