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.”

Chivalry is Dead

It’s no secret that I meet the fine specimen that I go out with, from a dating website. I’ve gone back and forth regarding if I actually like doing this (or want to admit it that I’m doing it!), but since going to a bar or a club is of no interest to me and I don’t have many friends who know single men, online dating has been where I have landed. And, at the very least, I have ended up with some absolutely crazy stories...sprinkled with many moments of shock and a few heartbreaks. I have learned a lot too—about myself, about relationships, about men, about expectations and about chivalry. Or lack thereof. 

I wish I would have kept count of the number of profiles I have read that say something to the effect of “…most think chivalry doesn’t exist anymore, but I disagree; I know how to treat a woman.” At first I smiled at this statement, thinking that perhaps this was a caring and sensitive man who truly was different than the rest. But after going out with 35+ men from various dating websites, I have come to recognize that their version of chivalry in treating a woman does not go much beyond putting your best foot forward on a first date. And sometimes not even that far. 

So why do I say chivalry is dead? Well, let’s start by looking at the definitions of chivalry:

chivalry |ˈSHivəlrē|

noun

the medieval knightly system with its religious, moral, and social code.

• historical knights, noblemen, and horsemen collectively: I fought against the cream of French chivalry.

• the combination of qualities expected of an ideal knight, esp. courage, honor, courtesy, justice, and a readiness to help the weak.

• courteous behavior, esp. that of a man toward women: their relations with women were models of chivalry and restraint.

1 acts of chivalry: gallantry, gentlemanliness, courtesy, courteousness, politeness, graciousness, mannerliness, good manners. ANTONYMS rudeness.

(Take note that in the definition of chivalry itself, it states behavior of a man towards a woman!) 

I have used both the free and pay-for dating websites as avenues of obtaining dates. Prior to knowing the truth about the free sites (that they are actually primarily sites designed for hooking up), the appeal was that it was free. All 13 boys I accepted a date from off of one particular site, with the exception of one man (who I actually went out with several times before he…disappeared…), asked me for sex on the first date without even knowing my last name!  There have been a handful of others, from other sites, who have made it past the first date (usually just because they didn’t ask me for sex!) who then ask for, or rather expect, sex on the second date. 

In refusing their offers for sex, or going to their houses, or even for not kissing them or declining another date, I have been called a prude, religious, a person with baggage and abnormal. In moments where I have stated that I am not comfortable with certain conversation topics or actions, I have been told that I have too much baggage and that I am projecting my past relationships onto him. In asking a guy to be straightforward with me, I have been called desperate, told that I wanted too much and of course been bold-faced lied to. Because I have refused to send pictures of myself via text message I have been called old-fashioned, rigid and uninteresting (usually followed with no further communication from that guy). 

Now, I am not one to judge what your personal standards are regarding what we feel comfortable with talking about, texting about or if/when sex should happen in dating (maybe we’ll talk about that in another blog), but I am sorry…opening up the door to the dining establishment and paying for my dinner (that you probably asked me to go to with you via text message), does not make you chivalrous, standing head and shoulder above the “rest of the men out there”.  Nor should it give you the assumption that because you have done these grand acts I should repay you by sleeping with you! If that’s chivalry, then I want out (or at the very least I think we should petition to get the dictionary definition changed)! 

That version of chivalry seems to be, according to the definition above, the antonym of chivalry: rudeness. 

I can imagine you are probably sitting here, reading this blog with one of two expressions on your face. You are either horrified that this exists OR you are nodding your head (even reluctantly) because you know this to be the truth of the dating world now. 

One thing that this blog is NOT is a man-hating blog. That’s not my goal at all, but rather to offer an honest perspective on what it’s like to be in the dating world today as an older (and totally awesome), not-in-her-20’s-woman. So, while we can’t ignore the honest reality of the dwindling definition of chivalry, the other thing we can’t ignore is why we allow it (squirm!) See, it would seem that it’s a vicious cycle: men treat women like this because women allow it (even sub-consciously). Women allow it because they have come to expect it and don’t understand that they can and should be treated differently. And I think it’s fair to say that women allow it because it’s rare to be treated differently (respect, courteous, with high regard, care, etc.) So we lead ourselves to believe that our expectations are too high, our standards are too picky and we need to let loose just a bit.  

The landscape of dating has changed drastically in the past 15-20 years; both positively and negatively. Growing up in a highly religious home afforded me a very sheltered, limited and terrifying view of dating and relationships (anyone ever read that book, I Kissed Dating Goodbye?…don’t. Worst. Dating Book. Ever.) So between coming out of that and then our culture changing (again, both in highly positive ways and then some not-so-positive ways), you can imagine the element of trauma that silently weaves through so many of my dating experiences! And in navigating through this maze of relationships, while I have been dumped on a few more time than I would have liked, I regret to say, I have made my fair share of mistakes. And that’s where we as women need to take a bit of ownership—in our part—because chivalry didn’t become this way as a result of just one of the genders!

There is this balance it seems like we are trying to maintain between desperation and being a prude. It harkens back to last week’s blog in a way, in that for varying reasons, fighting for ourselves has become a foreign concept. It’s easy to believe that we have slim pickins’…great guys don’t seem to be for sale at WalMart (but man, if they were!) When the scenery looks dismal however, it doesn’t mean that it’s completely my/our problem; that we have to lower our standards or expectations of what is an appropriate, respectful, courteous and honoring way to be treated. Unfortunately, I know I’ve made a habit of doing just that at times! And when I lower my standards and accept behavior that is less than chivalrous, it makes it easier for us to accept it from the next guy and for the next guy to treat another lady in the same way. Vicious cycle. 

It would be nice if we could stop and reverse this cycle. Not to be a Debbie Downer, but I don’t see that happening on a corporate level anytime soon!  BUT that doesn’t mean I can’t in my own life. It doesn’t mean YOU can’t in your life. It is OK to have certain expectations for dating. It’s ok to have boundaries. It’s ok to ask a guy to call you and ask you out versus him doing it via text message. Sex shouldn’t be an expectation, it’s an act of love and intimacy (those two things aren’t usually associated with a first date, so it’s ok to turn the offer down.) It’s ok if you don’t want to be in a private setting, it’s ok if you don’t feel comfortable sexting, it’s ok if you don’t feel comfortable sending photographs of yourself (clothed or unclothed). It’s also ok to not talk about certain topics, subjects or parts of your life until that person has earned the right to hear them. Despite what today’s dating scene suggests, not doing these things hardly make you a prude!

When I first opened my business, I remember having a conversation with a friend regarding if prices on services should be reduced when the customer flow wasn’t as ample. It was easy in those slow moments to believe it was something about me (perhaps my prices were too high, I over estimated my quality, etc.), rather than the normal ebb and flow of business. She encouraged me to not sell myself short; to keep my prices as they were (because that was what I was worth), and trust that the customers would come through the door when they were supposed to. From a business perspective, while this has been a step of faith many times, she was/is exactly right. I keep my prices and services at the level they are because I am worth it. If someone complains, I don’t take it personally. I simply recognize that us doing business together is not going to be a fit. I do this because my business is part of my livelihood and if someone doesn’t respect that, no disrespect to them, but I don’t need to be associated with that person.

Are we seeing the connections here? 

I Will Fight for Me

Well, we have survived another season of The Bachelor. Survived seems like the right way to put it…from the bachelor being wishy washy, two faced, hypocritical and downright rude, Juan Pablo has been referred to as the “worst bachelor ever”.  While I wasn’t too impressed with him, the purpose of this blog isn’t to give my opinions on what he should or should not have done, but rather to focus on the girl he “rejected” at the Final Rose Ceremony. Clare.

I have to admit, even though Clare was a bit intense at times and she chose to step out of the limo that first night sporting a VERY large baby bump, I liked her. As the season wore on and she received criticism from social media, what became more apparent to me is that his 32 year old hairdresser was more like me than I wanted to initially admit. While I might not go on a TV show to find love (to all my friends who keep encouraging me to apply…sorry!), Clare represented my demographic. 

Clare began the season telling viewers that her heart was ice…not because she wanted it to be, but because life had served her experiences and relationships that made it easier to become cold and frigid rather than getting hurt one more time. Throughout the season she would reference back to that heart of ice as she put herself out there, expressed her feelings and slowly started to let the ice melt. She expressed her fear and anxiety, her hesitation, her love, her excitement, her frustration. She was visibly irritated when other girls would get time with Juan Pablo, she looked for opportunities to spend time with him, she was crushed when Juan Pablo turned the tables on her and blamed her for a late night swim in the ocean. She clearly spent time thinking about the relationship, she looked for ways to respect Juan Pablo and slowly but surely allowed herself to fall for this man. 

Now, this most certainly could have been a storyline for TV; but either Clare is a fabulous actor, or she was just being her. And I tend to believe the latter. But while America laughed at Clare, I cheered for her (even if it was silently!) See, I am very much like Clare. I too fear that I have a heart of ice. 

As I sat in my therapist’s office a couple weeks ago, I shared with her my fear that, even though I didn’t experience anxiety or even a significant amount of sadness over the last guy who left, the next guy who came along was having to start with a major disadvantage even though he, himself, hadn’t done anything. It truly made me sad that this string of guys who have been so flippant with who I am have caused me to crawl back into my turtle shell a bit and at the very least remain skeptical. I’m not a man hater, I still believe in relationships; in fact, I have great hope that I will be in one with a man who is amazing, but it is difficult to not let your heart freeze just a little bit when that rejection comes…one. more. time. 

I cheered right along with the audience as Clare refused a hug from Juan Pablo after he rejected her; her response to him was strong and honest; it left no questions. She held it together as she walked away from Juan Pablo, narrowly escaping his under the breath statement, “whew, glad I didn’t choose her!” (Don’t even get me started on how infuriating that statement was; or how telling of his character!) After hugging the host of the show, Chris Harrison, Clare gave a heartfelt interview on what it was like for her to stand alone. Again. Her words, “…Where’s the man that makes me feel like I am worthy? Where’s the man that will fight for me?” made my heart ache as I saw myself in her, leaving that island, wondering how to put all the pieces back together. 

After a few more minutes of watching Juan Pablo do what he does best…be himself…the “After the Final Rose” special began to air. Even through the TV screen, you could feel the tension, the awkwardness and a cloud of confusion as people tried to figure out what had just happened. Without wasting time, Chris Harrison told viewers that Clare would be the first to be interviewed. I admit, I was a bit apprehensive. I expected Clare to come out and talk about how betrayed, rejected and used she felt. And to be honest, she would have had every right to do so; no one would have questioned a sad and utterly confused response from a jaded Clare. But that’s not what she did.

Juan Pablo being...Juan Pablo.."eeesss ok!"

Clare walked on stage, looking stunning, and honestly and articulately shared that while she was sad, and being rejected was not something she enjoyed, she did not need time with Juan Pablo to try and get answers (or, as she put it, “get fed with more BS”). Her secret in all of this? It was standing up for herself that moment she walked away from Juan Pablo. It was, as she stated during the “After the Final Rose” special, being able to, for the first time, stand up for herself and say exactly how she felt and exactly what she thought. Her ability to fight for herself was what allowed her the closure she needed to move on from this relationship. 

That statement really hit home with me. I have felt, the older I have gotten, less freedom to truly stand up for myself and state what I need, what I want, what I feel or what I think. There is this subtle fear that can sweep over me in moments where I should stand up for myself, but wonder if it’s really worth it. This internal battle causes me to go back and forth wondering if I DO stand up for myself and speak my piece, if he will leave and I will be alone…again. I am constantly weighing if it is worth being true to myself or just better to stay quiet (at the expense of myself). 

It wasn’t too long ago that I was faced with the opportunity to stay quiet, as I always had, or to stand up for myself. Staying quiet meant I could keep someone by my side…a warm body. But it also meant staying in a relationship with no emotional safety and security; no stability. And while I knew how to function quite well in the relationship, since it was familiar to me, it began to become clear that standing up for myself would be less scary than to not. So the day came where I severed all ties, used my voice and walked away. It was not without great emotion, pain and heart break, but I did it. Many months of therapy, processing, lonely nights and re-discovering myself and what life was all about ensued. (I actually think I have tendinitis in my elbow from the pages and pages I wrote in my journal!) And while it was not without significant pain and heartache, the moment I stood up for myself was pivotal; fighting for myself gave my life back. And interestingly enough, I have found that standing up for myself has kept my heart un-frozen. It has given me permission to trust myself and my gut and to recognize the value and honor I have in myself as a woman. 

Clare’s line in her final interview after being rejected by Juan Pablo, was “…where’s the man that will fight for me?” is a line I have repeated to myself hundreds, if not thousands, of times. And while I look forward to the day that there will be an answer (in the form of an actual man) to that question, I think Clare figured out that day (when she left Juan Pablo on that beach) what I figured out the day I left my ex…that at the very least, if no one else will fight for me, I will fight for me. Because I am worth fighting for. And so are you.

Cue the Rocky theme song...

Here I Go Again on My Own...

Another weekend and I am at home by myself. Not that it differs too much from the past couple years worth of weekends, but this weekend was supposed to be different. As I write this, I am supposed to be in Mississippi visiting the guy that I have been dating for the past couple months. Supposed to be. I realized a few days ago, however, that in the last 18 days I have been the one to begin all conversations via text messaging, have either called him or asked him to call  me and have made myself 100% available to whenever he wanted to get together. So, after a rushed conversation on Thursday night in which he told me he would talk to me Friday morning, I decided to see if he would make good on his word. So I waited…and waited…and waited. It’s Sunday. Still no word.

Several months ago I would have been a puddle of tears and anxiety if this had happened. I would have spent the entire weekend checking my phone (of course texting other people, just to make sure that my phone was working), wondering and waiting, probably re-hashing every conversation, every voice inflection, re-reading all of our texts, looking for a clue—searching for some possible meaning of his absence. I would have doubted myself, sat in shame, written countless pages in my journal wondering what it is about me that makes men disappear and searching Amazon for the latest dating self help books…searching tirelessly for that “missing link” to keeping a relationship that I was somehow missing. 

But I’m not living in the past [several months], I’m living in the now.  So, while I am happy to say that I didn’t waste my weekend wondering what in the hell was going on and what was wrong with me, it’s sad that I have come to expect this with men. This disappearing act has become par for course and I am not the least bit surprised. In the last year, this is the 5th time this has happened to me. Yes, you read that correctly…FIVE TIMES this has happened to me. And I’m not talking about someone I have gone on one date with who never calls again (there are MANY more of those guys too!) I’m talking guys where there has been some investment, time spent, experiences and conversations. Guys who talked about the future, who talked about being in a relationship…guys who told me I was “unlike anyone else they had dated.” Disappeared. No reason given as to the relationship ending; just left. Gone from my life, forever.

Dating in your 30’s is a totally different ball game. People in their 20’s don't get it. Our married friends don’t remember it. And our friends who were married at age 21, as is so common here in the South, literally cannot comprehend the language we speak in being single at 30 (to all my married at 21 friends out there…you know I love you, but let’s be honest…you have no idea what it’s like.) 

Trauma is defined as “…a deeply distressing or disturbing experience”. I looked up words that go along with trauma and here is what I found: shock, upheaval, distress, stress, strain, pain, anguish, suffering, upset, agony, misery, sorrow, grief, heartache, heartbreak, torture; ordeal, trial, tribulation, trouble, worry, anxiety; nightmare, hell, hellishness; war-weariness. In essence, my dating life. 

I am just going to put it out there: Dating after 30 is traumatic. It’s a battle of finding a balance between knowing what you need and want in a relationship and not coming across as desperate. It’s facing this cold, ugly reality that you’re a great girl who wants a great guy living in a world where 25 great girls must compete for one great guy (it’s like we live in our own version of “The Bachelor”). It’s figuring out how to keep putting yourself out there time and time again after you’ve been rejected, not called back or walked out on. It’s facing well meaning friends and family who try to encourage you to be patient and keep your chin up as there are “many fish in the sea” when in reality you just want to tell them that every time they say those things it’s like a slap in the face. It’s pretending to be excited (and sometimes actually excited) when someone else is happy in their relationship and you still have a “cold side” of the bed. It’s facing those daunting realities that life is looking much different than you planned and balancing not letting go of those desires to be in a relationship but not becoming consumed, bitter and cynical with it. I could go on, but I think you get it. 

So, my friends, I’m not in the business of wrapping this up, tying a bow and making this look pretty. While I am not an advocate for cynicism and the isolation that naturally comes from that, I also don’t think we have to deny the honest reality of our relational life. I guess maybe that’s the bow…just recognizing the reality of what we’re going through and, at the very least, giving ourselves permission to be honest and admit that it sucks. 

Until next time…