Shhhhhh . . . Just listen.

So I generally have an issue with all of the relationship advice that puts ALL the burden on the woman to change and adjust in order to GET A MAN. However, as I have been unlucky in love over the past few years, I'm smart enough to know that it can't ALL be the men, that I need to look in the mirror myself. So I've been reading this one relationship book that talks about, among other things, that women should stop DOING SO MUCH to try to impress men, or show them what a good catch we are, etc. and let the men show us how worthy they are to us. One of the suggestions is to stop talking so much and listen to men and what they have to say without agreeing, disagreeing, trying to show connection or commonality, etc. Just listen.

I was skeptical about this piece of advice. I thought, 1) how boring I'll seem if I don't contribute to the conversation 2) how boring it will be for me just listening to him prattle on and on and 3) I have stuff to say, don't tell me what to do, I'm charming, dammit!!

But, hey, I'll try anything once. . . so last night I ended up one-on-one with a guy I've known for a while but have never really connected with, although I've wanted to. In the past, he's been polite, but never showed any interest, or particular desire to talk to me, even though I've thrown hints his way, tried to impress him, flirted etc. I just assumed he wasn't interested.

I came to the bar to see my friend Bobby who was visiting from out of town, this guy, Reggie, is his friend. So I get there, I say hi, I end up sitting between Bobby and Reggie. Soon after I get there Bobby leaves . . . so I'm kind of there by myself with Reggie. He was ready to go, and had closed his tab, but as he finishes his drink we start talking and I make a conscious effort to just listen . . . I don't think about what I'm gonna say next, I don't comment when I find something in common, I just look him in the eye and listen to what he has to say. And it was interesting! And then I wanted to know more and I asked some questions and listened some more. And next thing I know, he's ordering another drink, I've had three vodka tonics (when I only planned to have one), and I didn't have a tab to pay at the end (in all the years I've known him, Reggie has NEVER bought me a drink). The conversation, which started on movies, ended up covering a variety of topics including stuff about feeling purpose in life, and how one’s mate plays into that. And all I did was just listen.

When it was time to go he walked me to the train station and gave me a nice bear hug and kiss on the forehead. It was so nice. I felt really good on my way home.  And for today that is enough.

So all this to say is maybe some those “relationship experts” know a thing or two about what they are talking about.

The Stories We Tell

The truth that many people never understand, until it is too late, is that the more you try to avoid suffering the more you suffer because smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you in proportion to your fear of being hurt.

~Thomas Merton

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I like to tell stories. When someone asks me “what happened?” they settle in for a good detailed and entertaining description of an event. However, one of the disadvantages of this is that I sometimes reduce entire people to a story. “Oh, I heard from Fred the other day, it's been 10 years!” “Which one is Fred?” a friend might ask. “Oh, he's the one who after finding Jesus decided that we would no longer have sex, but one day after chasing me around his office desk for an hour and insisting that he was freely choosing to break this vow of chastity...yadda, yadda, yadda, laying on his back in the middle of his office floor, arms extended straight out on either side, exclaimed that what we did was 'just like spitting in the face of Jesus as he carried the cross up Calvary.'” and my friend would exclaim, “Ohhh, him.”

Now, this story that I've told over and over about Fred is entirely true. (unfortunately) And I have similar types of crazy stories for many guys that I've dated in the past. However, dwelling on the one thing (usually negative) about a person that makes a good story, abandons all of the other aspects of my relationship with him. I've passed on how we met, when I was driving that old Jetta with low profile BBS rims that I busted on a train track, and he was working at the tire and rim store that I went to get the rim repaired (long before he had his own shop with an office that we could fool around in), he, an avid tennis player, noticed my racket in my trunk and asked whether we could play together one day. (we never did have that tennis game . . . I was taking lessons at the time and was so bad my teacher fired ME .. . said that I was wasting my money and his time . . .but that's a story for another day) How we could just sit and talk about anything for hours on end or just sit in comfortable silence together. How, after that embarrassing Jesus episode we remained friends and after I moved away I would always make time to see him when I came home and we got along as if no time had passed. And, how, on the day of my father's funeral, he held me and comforted me until I fell asleep. I had reduced this full and rewarding friendship with an overall sweet and caring person to “that Jesus guy.”

All of this to say, although it is normal to compare current relationships with past ones, when we dwell on the negative aspects of our past relationships, the comparison tends to be based on how the new person differs from the old person, in an attempt to avoid a similar type of hurt. We are working from a position of avoidance, and our approach tends to be one of mistrust. This causes us to hold back from the experience in an effort to protect ourselves.

However, if we make a point to remember the good stuff about our past relationships as well . . . what made us fall in love with them in the first place, what we liked about them as well as what hurt us, we are likely to find that there was a lot of good about the person as well. And we may be able to approach new possibilities from a positive place, placing the primary focus on what we are looking for instead of what we want to avoid. In my experience, there have usually been more positive aspects to a person than the negative “story,” so it seems like it might give me, at least, more to work with.

Homework: take some time to think about 3 past relationships, make a list of at least 5 good things about each person. Let me know how it goes.

It's a Really Deadly Sin .. .

As iron is eaten by rust, so are the envious consumed by envy. ~Antisthenes
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I wanted to write about jealousy and envy. It's an issue that I deal with quite a bit; when others seem to have what I want, I feel a little twinge of envy. I acknowledge it, affirm that I'm happy for them, and go on about my business. But each of the five or six times I started this entry, I couldn't get far because it kept turning into the equivalent of a digital temper tantrum.

WHY CAN’T I FIND SOMEONE TO LOVE ME??????????

WHY CAN E-V-E-R-Y-O-N-E ELSE FIND SOMEONE BUT NOT ME????????????

WHY OH WHYYYYYYYYYYYY AM I SO ALOOONE?

POOOOOOR POOOOOOR PITIFUL ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?????????? etc, etc, etc . . . (it didn’t help matters much that this past weekend two people I know got engaged and another good friend FINALLY hooked up with a longtime crush)

I couldn't figure out why this issue had me so stuck, … So I started researching. I’m kind of a quotation junkie, so I first started looking for quotations about jealousy and envy to start this entry and inspire me. Couldn’t find anything that really spoke to how I was feeling .. . . so then I looked to music. Are there any songs that say how I feel? No luck there either. Then I found it. . . a quote by a little known (by me, anyway) British Actress named Jennifer James:

Jealousy is simply and clearly the fear that you do not have value. Jealousy scans for evidence to prove the point - that others will be preferred and rewarded more than you. There is only one alternative - self-value. If you cannot love yourself, you will not believe that you are loved. You will always think it's a mistake or luck. Take your eyes off others and turn the scanner within. Find the seeds of your jealousy, clear the old voices and experiences. Put all the energy into building your personal and emotional security. Then you will be the one others envy, and you can remember the pain and reach out to them.

“If you cannot love yourself . . . you will not believe that you are loved.” . that resonated with me.

Do I love myself?
--I like myself.
--I think I’m pretty cool. . . .
But do I LOVE Me???

This quandary led to the next step of my research. I googled “How do you love yourself?” and that led me to How to Love Yourself. Along with the predictable affirmations and whatnot was the suggestion to Share Yourself.

So this is where I start. . . sharing.

I feel better already.

Deferring the Dream

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up

like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--

And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?

Or crust and sugar over--

like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

--A Dream Deferred

Langston Hughes

As I start to write this I break down into tears. It was like any other day, actually better than most. Went to work, got there earlier than usual because it's a good habit I'm trying to build. Got a big project out of the way, and earned some comp time hours I can use later for some fun.

But on the way home, as I ran to catch the last bus of the day that I almost missed because I was caught up in my project. . .. I realized that this is it. I have a nice home, and a good job. Although I'm in more debt than I wish to be, I make enough money. I have friends who love me. To some I have it all.

But today I realized, deep down in the place that I don't access very much, that HE is probably not coming and that I'm really, really tired of wishing for HIM to arrive. Maybe I'll be one of those women who get married for the first time at 85 and make the cover of the local paper. But it's like the lottery . . . possible, but not probable.

And let me get it straight. I'm not one of those single women who is sitting here waiting for her Prince to to come save her from a feline filled spinsterhood, harboring hope chests full of linens, and notebooks full of plans for a wedding that rivals that of Lady Di's. I have a life.

But here's the rub. Although I have a life, I've saved a little part for HIM. When I'm hanging out doing what I do, I wish HE were there to share it with me. Or I imagine that HE is right around the corner on the verge of entering my life and changing it forever. But today, I don't believe he's coming any time soon. And my tears are not sadness, well, I suppose I am a little sad. But its mostly frustration. Because although I accept that I might be alone forever, like the lottery, I still buy a ticket now and then. I still haven't given up that dream that one day, I'll have that love that I want so bad.

So what do I do with this deferred dream? Right now, it is hanging around my neck like a heavy load. It is my burden. I am that statistic that so many news reports and magazine articles have covered lately. Educated, Black, over 40, single and childless. And lonely as hell.  I'm not advocating staying in a wrong relationship to avoid this feeling, but to quote Chris Rock. I understand.

Its funny, married people like to complain about being married. They like to look at my life and tell me how good I have it, because I travel, take fun classes, go to plays, and can be quite spontaneous. But what they don't realize is that I'm not single because I want to live a footloose life with no responsibilities. I live this life because it's a better alternative to sitting at home, alone like I am right now wishing I had someone to cook for in my newly remodeled kitchen. I don't have kids who need braces . . .so I go to Europe. But guess what, I'd rather be at the orthodontist.