My Biggest Weakness
June 27th, 2011 § 9 Comments
Day 177
I’ve always been the girl that sucked at relationships. A one month shelf life, that’s about as good as I could ever do. Some may say it’s because the right one hasn’t come along. Others may argue it’s because I’m too picky. They’d throw out clichés of “when you’re least expecting it” and “it will be worth it” only to have them be received by ears that had opened the door and welcomed them one too many times into the mind that had a hard time believing in any thing such as true love or soulmates. After brushing off optimism for the hundredth time, the mind would trigger the mouth to speak doubt. It’s a vicious cycle and so often I have trouble seeing that it could ever be one that will be broken.
I suppose it would be one thing if it were me taking advantage of these prospects – treating them like mere entertainment, rather than fellow humans, but nothing could be further from the truth. I’ve never been or treated anyone perfect, but I’ve put a heck of a lot of good deed toward my fellow man. I’ve worked hard to respect people’s feelings, take into account how they might receive a word or an action and consider them far too often before I give the same affinity to myself.
Why then, do I continue to come in contact with people who disregard me? Who take advantage of me? Who, if they said anything of care and importance toward me, were saying something in direct opposition in the next breath?
I’ve yet to find comfort in understanding why my life continuously feels as if it’s fallen victim to being too nice. I’ve yet to give into playing games with others’ emotions to get what I want. I’ve yet to change myself in order to keep someone’s interest in me.
I’ve also yet to find someone who actually does keep an interest in me.
Instead I find myself looking for the potential Mr. Right in every face I see. I size every man up against a mental checklist. Is he wearing a ring? Does he have a friendly smile? Do I look like his type?
I treat every face to face opportunity like it’s a quarter in a payphone – buying me another minute of time. I treat that time like it’s more valuable than my own. As if I have to fight to keep his attention or I’ll lose it forever. I’ve never once thought of it as the opposite – like he should be fighting to keep mine. I let myself do the chasing, put all the pressure on myself to make plans and make it work. And because it’s life, when something goes wrong, there comes that pressure again, leaving me filled with guilt, question and doubt. What did I do wrong this time? What did I say? Why did this happen?
All that chasing is exhausting. All that worry leaves me weary. For every question beginning with “why?” that crosses my mind, I feel as if I’ve taken a minute off my life.
And yet, all of this frustration is a product of a war with myself. It’s caused by a battle I fight inside each and every day where I’m the MVP of the comparison game. It’s a letdown that as I get older, nothing seems to really change. It’s a disappointment that I’m almost 27 and still unsettled. If I were to die tomorrow, I would never have had one great love.
I know it’s not my place to sit around and proclaim how unfair life is.
But I can’t help it.
I feel cheated. I feel like I was home sick that day in middle school when everyone else got the “How to Have a Successful Relationship” lecture. I feel like I lack the gene to function as part of a couple. Give me a million strangers and I’ll find a way to make all of them want to call me a friend. Ask me to foster a romantic relationship out of just one and I’ll fail miserably.
You know what else I do? I let one person – their words, actions or lack thereof – break me. I let a man in, let him tell me the most wonderful things, believe him, reciprocate and then when he turns on a dime for his own (albeit selfish) reasons, I let that break me. It breaks me apart. It breaks me down. That one unhappiness overrides any joy I have. That one person emits so much doubt in my mind that I swear off all relationships. Is it so much to ask for someone to come into my life, fill that void and ease my mind? Would it be out the ordinary for a nice girl to find a nice boy? It feels like the impossible task.
I wish that I knew if there was a happy ending to this story. I wish when you got to the bottom of reading it, there was a picture of two smiling happy people. I’d like to tell you it was all OK in the end. I’d love nothing more than to be living that good news out. But right now is not my time for that kind of story telling.
Right now is my time for a lot of other things. For realizing that there will come a time – as hard as it is to believe now – that I will look back with regret if I don’t take advantage of every ounce of life I have right now. It’s a time for remembering that checking off the ‘single’ box, watching my friends’ relationship statuses change and attending more weddings than summers’ past doesn’t warrant the need to be selfish. It doesn’t mean that I have to look at a situation and automatically internalize it.
When birds lose their feathers, it’s called molting. It can happen for a number of reasons but for the most part, it’s because the growth of new feathers generates the loss of the old. Feathers are usually lost one at a time because loosing several flight feathers at once would seriously hinder bird’s ability to fly.
If an animal as simple-minded as a bird can accept the fact that feathers will be lost and nature must run its course, then I, too, must realize it’s not my place to question loss, that I should only look forward to the gain by way of growth that nature has in store.
Must Love Dogs
April 12th, 2011 § 17 Comments
Day 102
To my future husband, a few things to take note of:
I really like photography. You’re going to have to get used to my camera going everywhere with us. This might mean that I take photos of things that cause people to look at us funny. You’re going to have to get over that real quick.
Something else about my hobby you should know. I really love taking self-portraits.
And I will probably take hundreds of photos of you, whether you like it or not. (But you should probably just like it – it will make it easier on both of us.)
Don’t worry, I am pretty good at making others laugh.
I find beauty in not-so-ordinary places.
The key to my heart is a good cup of coffee.
Which I will, no doubt, take more pictures of.
I have had quite the journey in my faith and it is extremely important to me. I realize this can be a sensitive subject that can lead to much debate, but you’ve got to see where I am coming from and share some of the basic beliefs as I do. Cliff Notes version of this future conversation: I love Jesus.
I also really love my phone. You’ll love how much easier it makes life for both of us (just trust me on this one.)
You’ve got to love art and be able to appreciate its presence in our world and our lives.
And I’d really like it if you open up my world to artists that I have never even heard of – whether they sing, draw, write or make a living from dumpster diving.
Also? Let’s travel. Across the state, country and across town. This includes frequent trips to NYC (duh.)
And sorry in advance for my quirks – singing the wrong words loudly, the inability to eat pasta without wanting to fall asleep 20 minutes later, my uncanny ability of tripping up stairs and the fact that I’ll always make you drive.
I’d like to think my open mind and my giving heart make up for any characteristics that may not be ideal. If we come to a point where we don’t see eye to eye initially, I am willing to listen and hear you out. I’m flexible on a lot of things.
If not, there’s always my hair. It rocks pretty hard.
Oh, and dear future husband, if you didn’t catch it above, you must love dogs. There’s no negotiating on that one.
Self
February 24th, 2011 § 4 Comments
Day Fifty-Five
Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that’s just fabulous.
-Sex and the City, Season Six, Finale Part 2
My favorite quote and scene from the series – and that’s saying a lot. I’m turning to it now more than ever.
Today’s lovely photo was made possible in part by our sponsor Cailyn and Brian.
Unseen
April 27th, 2010 § 24 Comments
Now that spring has sprung, I get the sense of everything being “new” again. You know, we remember trees are actually green, we see flowers in bloom and that white stuff ceases to spit from the skies for another five months. I can’t help but think aside from the foliage outdoors, that spring also means a sense of feeling “new” myself.
As you may or may not know, this winter I went through a pretty tough breakup. I recovered fairly quickly – perhaps too quickly. I found myself feeling as if nothing had happened within hours. Since then though, I have found my mind being occupied with thoughts about all aspects of the relationship – the good, the bad, the why, the how, the hurt. Oftentimes, it’s the little things that remind me of it and him and how great I felt when we were good. At first it was the usual – the mix and match 6-pack of beer in my fridge, the Nature’s Valley bars in the pantry that only he ate, the big empty space in my bed every night. Then as I felt my mind was moving on with the passing days, little unexpected reminders would surface. DVD releases for the movies we saw together being advertised, the mention of his company’s name when I asked patients for their health insurance information, a few items of his clothing stashed in my drawers uncovered in a rage of spring cleaning, things being brought up in conversation that immediately without a second thought warrant a mention of, “xxx likes that, too” or “We went there once,” that I just as quickly tell myself not to say.
I heard somewhere – and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was from “Sex and the City” – that every relationship is just a comparison to those before it. We are constantly measuring up the checks and balances to the last person we shared our lives so closely with. While this may be true for the time we are actually still classified as “not single” what happens when the “not” drops off? Does the comparison game continue? Should it? Or does it change to comparing ourselves then to what we should have been then? Or who we are now? When does all the “shoulda, coulda, woulda, what the hell was I thinking?” stop and the “OK! Movin’ on!” start?
I hate that I even give the time of day to a single thought surrounding someone who projected so much hurt into my heart. I hate that somewhere, there is still a part of me that cares. I hate that three months – and in some cases three years – later the ghosts of relationships past come back to haunt me.
But.
I love that I can choose to do with my time what I want. I love how I can stay up til 1 a.m. doing nothing and not have to make the obligatory good night phone call or go to bed hours earlier on account of someone else’s schedule. I love that I can choose to spend my vacation days taking trips I’ve paid for and planned out. I love that I can watch anything, cook anything, eat when I want, bum around sans shower, be lazy, run at my leisure and make big decisions without having to consult someone else.
This is the time where I need to love all those things and love them on my own. This is my winter where everything is happening underground – unseen – and when spring comes, I will no doubt, bloom.
In Time
February 24th, 2010 § 14 Comments
I have been thinking a lot about time. Does anybody else do that? I literally spend so much time thinking about it. About the idea of it. About the reality of it. Time amazes me. It is the one constant in our lives. It moves at the same pace, every day. This may seem trite and simple, but think about it. Life is, for the most part, unpredictable. We don’t know what each day holds. Sure, we have things planned out – get up at 6:30. Cook breakfast. Shower. Drink coffee. Commute. Work until 6. You get the picture. But truly, the timing of life is unpredictable. We miss the alarm. Burn the eggs. Spill coffee. Get in accidents. Get fired. Lose loved ones. Get sick. In short, our worlds can feel completely turned around. Or, everything can go according to plan and our lives can feel completely ordinary. Either way – the only aspect we can truly count on to act as a stability post is time.
In the morning light that is post-breakup, I have really delved into thinking about time. The time I was in that relationship, in terms of calendar time, was very short. The time I was in that relationship in terms of investment time – not to mention the intensity levels – it was very lengthy. It was as if I was in this whirlwind that very abruptly stopped. And as the last leaves settled to the ground, there I was, spinning around with this perplexed look on my face as if to say, “What now?” I had trusted a gut instinct that led me to feel a certain way. It’s that same gut instinct that has forewarned me of tragedy and served as the last-minute decision not to do many things that would have been the wrong choice. This time it did just the opposite – it led me into the arms of someone who was the wrong choice.
When it was all said and done, I wondered about the time it’d take to heal. Within a few hours, I felt much better. In less than a few days, I felt surprisingly back to normal. It was as if the relationship had never existed. Here I am almost a month out and I don’t quite know how I feel. While I am certainly not wishing for things to have happened in any other way than they did, I am questioning what has happened in the time since.
My thoughts have been centered around time and how much of it and what kind it takes to heal. I’ve realized that while I am taking the situation and recognizing its blessings and certainly not blaming myself for anything, I was burned. Not a third- or even second-degree burn that scars and requires intensive care. But still, a burn. To me, it’s reminiscent of the one I gave myself pulling dip out of the oven on Cinco de Mayo. Although it sounds impossible, the injury happened on the top of my forearm, about four inches below my wrist. I can remember actually burning it, looking at it and realizing “Oh shit. I am burning myself.” I can remember going to work and having a throbbing red and purple welt. Icing it. Putting Neosporin on it. Not once in the healing did I cover it up. It needed air. And sure enough as burns do, it began to heal. In time, it reduced to just a scar. One that I look down at every day. To my skin, it now becomes a constant. It will be there every day, no matter if I wear long sleeves, get muddy, break my or someone breaks my heart.
I think the same can be said for the lesson I have managed to salvage from the relationship. It is visible – if only to me – and it, too, is a constant. It has become a part of my makeup and my history – a part of me. As the clock ticks and the calendar page is turned, as the choruses of “Auld Lang Syne” are sung and the “Happy Birthday!” candles are blown out, within me it shall remain. For right now though, I am giving it some air, knowing that if it’s going to stick around and be a constant in my life, I might as well let it heal the right way.
The Power of Words
February 4th, 2010 § 50 Comments
A short time ago, my life took a huge, sharp turn off the path I thought I had all but planned out pretty well for myself. Scary as it may sound, it was a welcome detour not for the scenery but rather for the company I had with me. I met someone who I thought was very wonderful and it was pretty clear he thought the same of me. Our journey together was no casual stroll in the park – it was more like an intense all-out run. One that is challenging in the moment – but rewarding in so many ways. Since the path was new, it opened up my eyes to many things. Among them, the possibility of life changing so much, the possibility of achieving the my dreams in a new exciting way and the probability of having someone to share it with.
Three days ago, I quickly found myself looking over my shoulder realizing I was running alone. When I turned back around I ran full force on to a sheet of ice and slid into a brick wall.
When I came to, I was back in the place I knew so well – the path I was walking down before my run.
When I came to, I was crying for the first time in as long as I could remember. I was holding my head in my hands trying to make sense of it all. Trying to explain it to myself, my friends, my family, my heart. I wanted a do-over. I wanted a hug. A drink. An explanation.
After I got over the initial shock of how I found myself single again – the irrational way in which someone else’s decision was given to me without a say – I began to dissect the conversation. I tried to connect the points made and make some sort of sense for myself why and how it had happened.
One reason he felt we were “on different levels” really bothered me.
“And the whole blogging thing. I don’t get it.”
Let me make a few things clear about that (as I am sure some of you are outraged that was a reason to end a relationship.) While I never rearranged our time together to blog, I am constantly connected to all things Internet through my phone (Twitter, Facebook, Emails, Blog). For as many times as I put it on the opposite side of the room to avoid the blinking red light of my Blackberry and the ping! that meant a new message, I was also sneaking in glances at times when I should have just let it be. I was constantly having to hear remarks about how “I wasn’t myself without my Mac,” which is not true at all. There’d be many nights we’d spend together that I didn’t even crack it open. And for those of you who aren’t regular readers, just look at the sporadic schedule of my posting recently. Granted, I have never posted every day, but my blog has not received the love I vowed to give it January 1st.
When I told those close to me – friends, blends and family alike – this was a reason for the breakup, they were shocked. Writing is the craft I am skilled and educated in. It is my passion and my hobby and something in which I hold a talent in. Right now, this blog is the only place I have to hone and practice that craft and skill. How could someone who seemed to get me not get me at all?
The words of encouragement from these people – and from some I didn’t even expect – floored me. It’s no surprise as I told you all a few posts ago that when I’m down, I’ve got those friends who are below me if only for a second to gain enough room to pick me up and bring me back to where I need to be. The calls, emails, texts, g-chat conversations, Skype dates and hugs have meant so much.
In less than 100 hours, I am doing better than I thought I would. I am coping at such a different level than I would have had this letdown happened a year ago.
I’m looking at this occurrence as a reminder to myself. A reminder that what I’ve stumbled upon – this blogging network of 20-something life, healthy living and food bloggers – is one of the most wonderful occurrences in my life. The network is not only one of shared interests, but one of support and love like I never could have imagined. This occurrence is a reminder that what is important to me is not to fill up my Google Reader with blogs and Tweet and comment to my heart’s desire, but to give back the support, encouragement, laughter and friendship that so many of you have given to me. And to write. My goodness, isn’t it about the writing?
Blogging has given me confidence. It’s taught me to be open and candid and as honest with myself as I am with others. It’s pushed my thought process outside its comfort zone and challenged my ideas and knowledge. It’s something that he just didn’t get. Because he couldn’t. And here’s what: that’s OK. It’s acceptable. It’s life. Thanks to the advice of a wonderful friend, I now know – and I want all of you to know – that if someone can’t value and appreciate you for who you are this second they don’t deserve you for one second.
As with any relationship, there are many lessons – ones that I have learned in a few short days and many that are waiting for me down that familiar path. The point of writing this post is not to point fingers and be outraged and expose someone’s actions. After all, the only people who truly know a relationship are the ones who are in it. The point is to share a story in which I am gaining so much more than I thought I would lose if I found myself here.
If you ever find yourself discouraged because someone doesn’t “get it” – and by “it” I mean your passion – I hope you’ll remember this story. I hope you’ll know that sometimes life – and what you’re made of – can shock the hell out of you. I hope you’ll believe that there’s a force greater than you and I guiding you through the straightaways and detours of your path. And I hope you’ll smile. I know I am.
