Tag: failure

love is tragic

I grew up in a houseful of books, and I’m certain I’d read just about everything on the shelves at least once by the time I was 13. By this I mean Anna Karenina, Jane Eyre, books by Wharton, Austen, Dickens, etc. — all before achieving a level of emotional maturity or ability to discuss and interpret the themes found in several of these novels.

Combine this with my parents’ off-and-on tumultuous relationship, and it’s no wonder I’ve grown up believing that tragic love is the norm. In fact, I think I’ve always expected that love would be romantic, passionate, dramatic, heart-wrenching and that there would be obstacles to be overcome.

The early part of my relationship with my husband was full of these things. My love for him was ferocious, we pined for one another when we were apart, and I was certain we could overcome anything.

And then our life together became routine and steady. Ultimately, it was the boring, staid comfort of sharing daily life that I loved the most. For many years, I loved going home to him, the warmth of his body next to mine in bed each night, communicating in the shorthand we developed over time, his scent each morning when we hugged in the kitchen.

I’d like to believe that I’ve learned and matured enough to turn around and run if love comes with drama, tragedy and the kind of obstacles with lingering effects. Sure, I’m still hoping for a little romance, chemistry and excitement in my future, but I’ll be holding out for loving behaviors tempered by steadiness, companionship and responsibility.

what to do with the ring?

About six month ago…

While traveling together, a co-worker asked, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure,” I said, “but I may decline to answer…”

“What will you do with your ring?”

Without hesitation (I’ve thought about this before), I replied, “I’m going to have the stones re-set into a new, ‘Let Freedom Ring’ for my right hand.”

“That is so awesome!” she exclaimed. “And unexpected. The second I blurted it out, I regretted asking in the first place. And your answer makes me so glad I did. Good for you!”

It may be awhile before the “Let Freedom Ring” becomes a priority (or a financial possibility). But my ring meant a lot to me when I wore it. It was difficult to make the decision to take it off. I invested a lot of love and tears into the commitment those diamonds symbolized, and I intend to continue wearing them — but, going forward, they will symbolize my commitment to myself.

dumping distractions

Yesterday I dumped a guy. Damn! I had forgotten how good that feels!

I suspect this sounds a little harsh. The truth is, I cancelled a date with a reasonably nice guy because he doesn’t have what I want. Yes, I know I need to practice dating again. And I’ve decided that I can accomplish this within certain parameters. It felt good to recognize that this guy was not in line with the direction I’m going in life, and to say, “Sorry. I don’t want to do this.” Making an empowered choice, one that nurtured my highest self, was deeply satisfying.

In small ways like this, I am rediscovering the power of affirmative choice. I spent nearly a decade developing great clarity about what I don’t want — this part is usually pretty easy. I’ve heard many women say, “I don’t want to be alone.” I’ve probably said similar things myself in the past. Transitioning to a positive vision of what we want — e.g. “I want to share myself with someone truly special” — is a deeper, more profound, knowing.

So I’m going to adopt the philosophy I take into the fitting room while shopping for clothes. I don’t buy it unless I’m in love. True, I fall pretty easily. But I need more clothes than I need men or hobbies or other diversions and flirtations that get between me and my ultimate bliss.

This challenge goes beyond being able to vote “YES!” to myself without hesitation. It requires discipline. I’ve always considered myself a bit of an opportunist — dreamy and flowing and allowing myself to be blown in the direction of the wind. More recently, I’ve also become easily distracted, possibly even developed (or come to recognize in myself) adult Attention Deficit Disorder.* So I’m going to have to stay focused, work my plan and keep my eyes on the prize. Here’s what I intend to do:

  • Develop and refine a clear vision of what I want
  • Believe that it’s out there and that it’s available to me
  • Stay focused; don’t get caught up with distractions (no matter how pretty and shiny they may be)

What pretty, shiny distractions are standing in the way of you having what you want or being the person you want to be? Which of these are simply and easily eliminated — dumped — by stating your truth?

*I realize the legitimacy of this condition and, no, I have not been diagnosed.

bungling the big stuff

It’s taken me remarkably little self-reflection to grasp that I haven’t approached relationships with the habits or behaviors that will allow me (and the relationship) to be successful. After all, where on Earth would I have learned healthy and appropriate behaviors or seen such examples?!

Let’s digress for a moment to my childhood within the environs of my parents’ spectacularly unhappy situation:  I recall being a small girl, playing with a Little People toy set, moving the characters around on the living room floor. I was an avid Sunday school student, and I suddenly had the thought that God must maneuver humans (and all living creatures) in the same way I was manipulating these small toys in play. What a thought! It was a big job, but God was all-powerful and everywhere… Still, I remember with absolute clarity thinking that, when creating my family, God had put two wrong people in this house together. At age four or five, this was my first conscious thought about my parents’ relationship.

Fast forward about 35 years. My own marriage failed spectacularly — due in large part, I’m realizing, to my utter cluelessness about how to be a woman in a relationship. I expect a man to behave like a man — he should provide, have good manners, be handy about the house and with the car (or at least earn enough to pay others to take care of them), among other things. My husband did not do these things. But were his failings caused, in part, by my own inability to provide the feminine energy in our relationship?

What if all the behaviors that allow me to be effective in professional and / or general life situations are jeopardizing my domestic happiness? In the absence of having a truly masculine presence at home, I’d taken charge…and became “the man.” And then I resented my husband for not being the man.

Let’s look at another hypothetical example:

Let’s say I’ve been flirting around with a fellow I’ve known for some time, and I’ve come to rather like him. I mean, I like him such that I’d definitely like to explore the energy between us, as I think we may have potential.

Imagine this fellow has said to me things like, “I like you” and “I think I’m falling for you.”

What would I have done in this situation? I’d have let him know directly, in no uncertain terms, that I’m interested. And in so doing, I’d most likely have ceased to be even remotely intriguing. I’d have taken away the chase, the feminine mystery, and circumvented any avenue or opportunity that might have allowed him to feel masculine.

This is how I’m bungling the “big stuff,” failing at relationships that could well be a big part of my equation for long-term satisfaction and contentment. Stay tuned for what I’m learning about how to stop messing it up!

new year, new me

New Year, new me. I’m not only counting on 2011 to be better than last year (or, rather, the past three years), I’m planning on it. I’ve been meditating, visualizing, thinking, defining, feeling, creating, reading and contemplating. I’m creating vision boards and drafting goals and writing down the steps I’ll take to reach them.

My philosophy is this:  There are many people I don’t know. There are many companies I don’t know. In fact, in general, there’s a lot I don’t know. And it’s entirely possible that among the body of things I don’t know, so many things are way cooler, more positive, sexier, more abundant and better for me than what I have known. There is a man out there, who I may have never met, who is a perfect partner for me. There is a company and a position out there that wants, needs and rewards all the best of my knowledge and skills — and it has fantastic pay and benefits! I can only truly create these things if I can believe they are possible.

So I’m trying to dispel some old, worn-out beliefs, test my assumptions, expand my horizons and learn new ways to be open, invite, and welcome amazing new things into my life. I invite you, in all your fabulousness, to join me!

miss you already

About 17 months ago…

Two girlfriends and I were having a few cocktails after work, one of whom has been married for more than a decade — really married, and the other successful, single and not dating. In other words, I was clearly providing the conversation / drama / entertainment.

No one really ever wants to talk about divorce in public. The heartbreak, the pain — it’s all better swept under the rug lest the weepies rear their ugly heads. And so I told them about Max and what happened since I’d last seen him.

“You texted WHAT?,” Cynthia asked. “How could you?!”

“What?,” I asked innocently, “‘Miss you already’ is perfectly innocent. I would say the same thing to a girlfriend or a niece or my own children.”

“He’s not your girlfriend or niece,” Cynthia pressed. “It was suggestive. And he’s a married man!”

“Seriously, it’s not as though I told him I wanted to get naked and rub my body up against him,” I argued.

Cynthia:  “No, that would have been being direct.”

Kristine, meanwhile, was doubled over with laughter and merely kept repeating, “Miss you already. Miss you already. That is priceless!”

They asked what happened next, they made me show them photos and then I told them about Max’s wife:

“You told her you had a crush on her husband?!,” they asked incredulously. I generally gravitate toward honesty. I may not always be appropriate or have the best boundaries, but I have my ethics.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “And she was cool, she was fun, and she was as inappropriate as any of us. And she would fit in perfectly sitting right here with us in this empty chair. We would have a grand time!”

Even as we put on our wraps, paid the tab and walked out of the bar, the girls were still laughing and giggling over what would become our inside joke:  “miss you already!”

descend the vultures

People are vultures — drawn, circling, to the wreckage. Sometimes without even realizing it.

At cocktail parties, public gatherings, all kinds of social occasions, people want to ask me, press me about my divorce.

“Are you okay?” one of them will ask meaningfully, leaning in close to suggest a safe haven in which for me to confide, despite the fact I’ve neither seen nor heard from said personage for at least the past year.

“Yes,” I reply. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“No, really…?” one will surely persist, as if he is my very best friend, and has endured relationship challenges of comparable magnitude, and this public place is an appropriate venue for this type of intimate discussion.

“Yes. It’s a transition, of course, but we’re adjusting,” I’ll say, offering up what I hope will be enough information so that I can change the subject directly. Blah, blah, blah…I have talked with genuine confidants until my face is blue and have no further interest in this topic. Truly.

Others around us are laughing, sipping, glasses clinking. This “friend” will continue to push with various probing questions or statements, e.g. “It must be really hard, what you’re going through,” until eventually, a glassy tear pools in the corner of my eye and my face begins to crumple into what I can only imagine is the same contorted, pained expression I’ve seen countless times as I’ve looked, weeping uncontrollably, into the bathroom mirror, wondering to whom that miserable reflection could possibly belong. I am fighting to stem the tears, fighting a losing game.

And then this well-intentioned fool will pull out the comforting words and pat my arm or embrace me, full of the triumph of finally getting through to me. “I’ve never seen you cry,” he will say, as if my tears are a trophy. He’s won.

Jesus, I’ve spent half of the past fucking decade in tears! Breaking down in public places, among strangers, in a conference room with my boss, when a co-worker makes a generous gesture. And I’d really like to be done crying, thank you. Or at least to spare myself some embarrassment by limiting breakdowns to the privacy of my home. If that’s okay.

People are vultures. They’ll circle the wreckage looking, waiting, watching, craning their necks to see what they can of the wreck, hoping for a glimpse of blood or severed limb.

New Year’s sex

Did you have sex with your spouse, mate, lover, partner this weekend?

I always thought sex on New Year’s Eve was a given in a relationship, kind of like the free space on a Bingo card. But after we had children, my spouse seemed to think the little ones were a great excuse to stay home and go to bed early.

I wouldn’t have objected if “going to bed early” meant some extra quality time for us. I enjoyed sex, and my libido remained strong through most of our relationship, even the difficult times. Furthermore, more time in bed meant more time to connect, catch up and enjoy pillow talk. Sex can help keep the lines of communication open.

And sex acts as a barometer in a relationship. It’s not the most important thing, of course, but it’s often a good indicator of how things are going. Regular sex — or desire, the potential for sex, for each other — indicates the passion and love are still alive, that there’s still a connection.

My own appetite for sex with my husband was certainly an indicator of how our relationship was going. I put on a few pounds after our second child and, along with the added demand of a new baby in the house, our sex life dwindled. I didn’t feel great about my physique, and my husband’s lack of desire certainly didn’t provide reassurances to that end. But we blundered on.

A few years later, it was a bit of a surprise to me when my husband charged, “I’ve already given up sex. What more do you want from me?!”

Wow! By this time, I was already convinced our relationship was doomed. Add to that the fact that he hadn’t seemed interested in me in months. I couldn’t even look him in the eyes, much less imagine sharing myself in that way any longer.

I responded, “You’ve denied me emotional intimacy for months. How could you possibly think I could be physically intimate with you?”

For women, sex and talking, sharing and connecting emotionally are two sides of the same coin. One is unlikely to happen without the other. And, in my experience, women are likely to want to communicate and connect emotionally before sharing physically, while men often prefer the physical before they open to the emotional. Herein lies one of the great balancing acts, the yin and yang of intimacy in a relationship.

So, if you haven’t already, log off and have some slow and steamy New Year’s sex, along with a side of snuggling and pillow talk, to begin the year right for your relationship.

funny little failures

As the year comes to a close and I begin to think about what I’d like to create – now that I am the sole leader of the family, the uncontested head of household – for the coming year, it’s a great time to look back and see what I failed to accomplish in 2010:

  • I didn’t get in great shape or lose a lot of weight.
  • I didn’t get a new car.
  • I didn’t get my house and garage re-roofed.
  • I didn’t fall in love; I didn’t even begin dating again…not really, anyway.
  • I didn’t stop being a stronger, better version of me.
  • I didn’t say only politically correct, appropriate things.
  • I didn’t go into debt.
  • I didn’t lose the privilege of parenting my children daily.

Whew! Thank heavens for small failures! There are only a few things on this list that I might have liked to accomplish anyway. Maybe I’ll plan those for 2011.

While we’re here, let’s take a moment to recount the successes of 2010:

  • I own my own home – no liens, no co-signers, just me and my bank and my first mortgage and my fixer-upper.
  • People around me comment on the positive change in my energy and the energy in my home.
  • My daughter seems to be coming out of her shell in ways that show what a strong and determined woman she will grow to one day be.
  • My son is learning resilience and growing stronger and more self-assured.
  • We are managing all this, my little family of three.
  • I’ve started my writing again. (and I can’t seem to stop!)

What apparent failures turned out to be blessings in 2010? What magnificent successes will you celebrate?