I never realized how much emotional baggage a vehicle could hold until we traded one in last weekend.
Growing up with a mother who avoided the most necessary of tasks in order to function in her anxiety-filled state of being, I have overcompensated to a fault. I'm the person who is likely to put that beloved t-shirt you haven't donned since last September in the discard pile and get it to the Goodwill before you can spot in missing in your bottom drawer. The second something pops up that causes me an ounce of anxiety, I am on a mission to resolve it as quickly as possible, even if it means a trip to the dentist or the gynecologist or, worst of all, the DMV.
At the same time, I am an incredibly cautious when it comes to financial decisions that have long-term implications. Truth be told, I haven't been in that situation much in my adult life. I've had to sign leases for pricey apartments in Connecticut and DC, but that's about the extent of it. Thanks to the generosity of my aforementioned anxious mother, I've been driving the same clunker since college, which suits me just fine. It takes a lot of energy to enter a car dealership, don't you think?
What's funny is that we weren't even replacing my car. We were out to trader in MT's functioning, yet rapidly deteriorating Saturn Vue. Let me tell you, finding a part for a car from a manufacturer that no longer exists is about as easy as scouring Ebay for a pair of gently used silver size 10 Jimmy Choo pumps. Sure, they might be out there, but how much of your time and energy do you want to spend on your search?
While the Vue was running just fine, minus a few brake pad replacements here and there, it had some cosmetic things that were starting to become problematic. For instance, the passenger side door developed a leak between the window and the door, so that after a hard rainstorm, which is basically a daily afternoon occurrence in the summer, when MT made his first hard left turn, I'd end up with a bunch of stinky brown rain water dumped in my lap. So, we'd still get where we were going, but not in the most pleasant way imaginable.
Ultimately my desire to remain dry on the way to a restaurant on date night overrode my desire to put off a huge financial decision and we ended up at the dealership looking at a slightly used SUV that had features that pretty much made us start salivating, although we tried not to let on to the salesman that we were desperate. When he'd leave us alone for a minute to check on numbers, we'd squeal, "The Bluetooth is AWESOME! We can listen to Pandora while we drive. Omg, Santigold station!" "Don't you love the wooden finish on the inner console? It looks so classy! And there are FOUR cup holders in the front. We can have two drinks each!"
Of course, by the time you actually purchase the car and fill out the dozens of required forms, it's nearly impossible to even remember what the car you've bought even looks like. There were moments of serious impatience, mostly due to my not having eaten anything since breakfast other than the complimentary popcorn the dealership had for its customers. "I didn't even know we were buying a car today," I snapped at one point. Somehow we managed to push through the five hour purchase process and made our way home in our new ride, playing with all of the buttons and calling everyone we could via Bluetooth (obviously).
But, it did something deeper than I was expecting. Trading in theVue for a car that we both have equal ownership of was yet another step towards solidifying our new life together as a married couple, putting behind the cars and memories and decisions of the past and looking toward our future of road trips and kids in car seats and joint decision-making. I love our car because it adds to the narrative of us. It means new adventures and memories that we'll make together, singing to the Beatles and Maroon 5 and James Taylor the whole way. The keyless entry ain't so bad either.
Showing posts with label Lessons Learned. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lessons Learned. Show all posts
Reflections on Wedding Planning (Part Four): Other People's Weddings
Exactly three months after our wedding, MT and I got to celebrate the marriage of my brother and his new wife, and it was absolutely impossible not to compare the two. While we planned for 13 months, they planned it all in 6. We had 50 guests; they had double that. But probably the biggest difference was in their level of enjoyment, especially my brother. He was totally stressed and anxious the entire weekend with few exceptions! If I had to give him some advice, this is what I'd say.
How to have a low-stress wedding
1. Give yourself more time to plan if you can wait. That way you're making fewer big decisions at a time.
2. Hire a coordinator if you can afford to. If you aren't naturally organized, hire someone to be organized for you.
3. Put time and energy into your wedding service. Don't wait until the week of the wedding to find out that it's stuffy and impersonal because by then it's too late to change it.
4. Communicate with people before the wedding weekend about when they need to be where. Finding out about family pictures through hearsay isn't the best way to get everyone together and organized.
5. Have an actual count of your guests so you're not surprised when you have more people than you have seats.
6. When it doesn't go according to plan, just take deep breaths and realize you're married and that was the whole point of having a wedding in the first place!
How to have a low-stress wedding
1. Give yourself more time to plan if you can wait. That way you're making fewer big decisions at a time.
2. Hire a coordinator if you can afford to. If you aren't naturally organized, hire someone to be organized for you.
3. Put time and energy into your wedding service. Don't wait until the week of the wedding to find out that it's stuffy and impersonal because by then it's too late to change it.
4. Communicate with people before the wedding weekend about when they need to be where. Finding out about family pictures through hearsay isn't the best way to get everyone together and organized.
5. Have an actual count of your guests so you're not surprised when you have more people than you have seats.
6. When it doesn't go according to plan, just take deep breaths and realize you're married and that was the whole point of having a wedding in the first place!
Reflections on Wedding Planning (Part Three): It's Not About the Gifts
Did y'all see that crazy post on Jezebel about the couple who decided to confront one of their guests about how they thought his gift was crappy because it included Marshmallow fluff?
I highly recommend you read it because you will be A) horrified and B) amused. If you don't have the time, I'll say that this line from one of the brides sums it all up: "Weddings are to make money for your future."
I will go ahead and let that one sink in for all of you. Ready to move on? Good. Weddings, as it turns out, are not actually about making money for your future. And if that's what you're expecting from your family, friends, and other guests, you will be grossly disappointed.
As it turns out, people have all kinds of ideas about what it means to be invited to a wedding and how they should act. If you are a person who thinks, "But that's just what you do when you're a wedding guest!," you will be shocked at how others don't demonstrate the behavior that you expect. I don't really think there's a way to avoid this, but I will just say that my lesson learned is that the people you don't expect to be gracious will often go above and beyond, and those who should be won't always do what you think is appropriate.
If I measured the quality of my friendships based on how my friends went about the whole wedding gift thing, I would think that some of them suck big time. And there were moments when I felt really angry that folks hadn't even thought to give us a card. I mean, a card? It's not that much effort. (Again with the "that's just WHAT YOU DO!" that came to haunt me over and over.)
Probably the hardest to deal with were the guests whose weddings I attended recently and had written nice checks for, and they didn't give us anything in return. Granted, folks have a year to give a wedding gift, so perhaps they'll surprise me. But I'm not holding my breath! And in some ways it was even worse to not get a gift from couples who have weddings coming up--because now what do we do in response? Do the right thing or the commensurate thing? It's tough to know what won't leave me feeling resentful or feeling petty.
Here's the thing. Weddings are about having a community of love and support witness your special day. Not everyone will be on their best behavior. Not everyone will be generous. But enough of them will that you'll know you're loved, and even if they don't, you still married the person you love most. And that was kind of the point anyway.
Also, it should go without saying, but just in case: you should probably plan a wedding that you can afford, so if the money doesn't come rolling in, you aren't starting your marriage in the red.
I personally think Marshmallow Fluff is delightful.
I highly recommend you read it because you will be A) horrified and B) amused. If you don't have the time, I'll say that this line from one of the brides sums it all up: "Weddings are to make money for your future."
I will go ahead and let that one sink in for all of you. Ready to move on? Good. Weddings, as it turns out, are not actually about making money for your future. And if that's what you're expecting from your family, friends, and other guests, you will be grossly disappointed.
As it turns out, people have all kinds of ideas about what it means to be invited to a wedding and how they should act. If you are a person who thinks, "But that's just what you do when you're a wedding guest!," you will be shocked at how others don't demonstrate the behavior that you expect. I don't really think there's a way to avoid this, but I will just say that my lesson learned is that the people you don't expect to be gracious will often go above and beyond, and those who should be won't always do what you think is appropriate.
If I measured the quality of my friendships based on how my friends went about the whole wedding gift thing, I would think that some of them suck big time. And there were moments when I felt really angry that folks hadn't even thought to give us a card. I mean, a card? It's not that much effort. (Again with the "that's just WHAT YOU DO!" that came to haunt me over and over.)
Probably the hardest to deal with were the guests whose weddings I attended recently and had written nice checks for, and they didn't give us anything in return. Granted, folks have a year to give a wedding gift, so perhaps they'll surprise me. But I'm not holding my breath! And in some ways it was even worse to not get a gift from couples who have weddings coming up--because now what do we do in response? Do the right thing or the commensurate thing? It's tough to know what won't leave me feeling resentful or feeling petty.
Here's the thing. Weddings are about having a community of love and support witness your special day. Not everyone will be on their best behavior. Not everyone will be generous. But enough of them will that you'll know you're loved, and even if they don't, you still married the person you love most. And that was kind of the point anyway.
Also, it should go without saying, but just in case: you should probably plan a wedding that you can afford, so if the money doesn't come rolling in, you aren't starting your marriage in the red.
I personally think Marshmallow Fluff is delightful.
The End of the Roarin' Twenties
That's right. Tomorrow I turn thirty, and I am PUMPED, y'all! I am ready to leave behind this decade and enter my next. At the same time, I know a ton of good stuff happened over the last ten years, so I thought I would recap a bit of it here:
Age 20: Moved to Florence, Italy for a semester. Visited France, Spain, Switzerland, England, and Germany. Went para sailing in the Swiss Alps.
Age 21: Figured out that I wanted to be in a helping profession. Saw for the first time systemic poverty, working in a homeless shelter in Charlotte, and decided to go to divinity school to...do something. Did my college honors thesis on motherhood and theology, definitely a first step towards my work today.
Age 22: Interned at the most amazing, feminist-y, non-hierarchical organization EVER. Set up for disappointment at all future employment.
Age 23: Moved into a group house with fellow div school classmates. Proceeded to have the most ridiculous party of all time. The cops came and asked what frat we were. We had to tell them, "The divinity school."
Age 24: Graduated from div school and got the HELL OUT OF THERE AS FAST AS POSSIBLE.
Age 25: Moved to DC. Got the HELL OUT OF CT. All rejoiced. Quit my job and found a new one that I love!
Age 26: Enjoyed the best of DC: getting invited to a meeting at the White House. Yes, it was amazing, and no, it hasn't happened since. Wah wah.
Age 27: Went to Malawi, first trip to the continent. Forever changed. Hired my first employee. Learned how to be a boss. Like a boss.
Age 28: Met my husband to be. Moved to NC. Got our dog Lucy. Got engaged! Quit the blog. Planned the wedding.
Age 29: Married my favorite person. Went on glorious honeymoon. Picked up blogging again. Enjoyed a more settled life in NC.
Can't wait to see what the next 10 years bring!
Age 20: Moved to Florence, Italy for a semester. Visited France, Spain, Switzerland, England, and Germany. Went para sailing in the Swiss Alps.
Age 21: Figured out that I wanted to be in a helping profession. Saw for the first time systemic poverty, working in a homeless shelter in Charlotte, and decided to go to divinity school to...do something. Did my college honors thesis on motherhood and theology, definitely a first step towards my work today.
Age 22: Interned at the most amazing, feminist-y, non-hierarchical organization EVER. Set up for disappointment at all future employment.
Age 23: Moved into a group house with fellow div school classmates. Proceeded to have the most ridiculous party of all time. The cops came and asked what frat we were. We had to tell them, "The divinity school."
Age 24: Graduated from div school and got the HELL OUT OF THERE AS FAST AS POSSIBLE.
Age 25: Moved to DC. Got the HELL OUT OF CT. All rejoiced. Quit my job and found a new one that I love!
Age 26: Enjoyed the best of DC: getting invited to a meeting at the White House. Yes, it was amazing, and no, it hasn't happened since. Wah wah.
Age 27: Went to Malawi, first trip to the continent. Forever changed. Hired my first employee. Learned how to be a boss. Like a boss.
Age 28: Met my husband to be. Moved to NC. Got our dog Lucy. Got engaged! Quit the blog. Planned the wedding.
Age 29: Married my favorite person. Went on glorious honeymoon. Picked up blogging again. Enjoyed a more settled life in NC.
Can't wait to see what the next 10 years bring!
Reflections on Wedding Planning (Part Two): Dealing with Family Expectations
Feel free to read my previous post where I talk about keeping sane during the planning process.
Oh, family. Don't we just love to hate them? Kidding, kidding (kind of). I have yet to meet a person whose family doesn't annoy them, and I've yet to encounter an engaged person whose family wasn't causing them to go bat-shit crazy during the process of wedding planning. Here's the reality: as much as your wedding is about the two of you getting married and everyone (hopefully) on an intellectual level knows this to be true, your family probably on some level believes that your wedding is in fact all about them.
This can take all different forms. At best, it means that your family wants to support you financially/emotionally/physically* and they offer to help out with whatever they can, even if it doesn't come in the form you want.** At worst, it means that they want to dictate exactly how your day will go, down to what kind of aisle-runner you will walk in on so as not to ruin your dress.***
As much as this causes your head to spin around all Exorcist-style, it's important that you not let this emotion take over for too long. The reality is that you still have the power. You can decide if, when, and how you are going to compromise. An important note: if someone is generously paying for an aspect of your wedding, I personally think it's rude not to allow their voices to be heard in that area of decision-making. I don't mean offer them carte blanche but be reasonable. If you don't want them to have a say, don't take the money! If you're worried about it, leave the things that matter least to you for others to chip in on. (At some point I'll tell you all about our rehearsal dinner...)
To me, this is why it is so important that at the beginning of your wedding planning process, you and your partner sit down and figure out exactly what kind of wedding you want, not down to the exact detail but the general experience you want to have. Meg Keene of A Practical Wedding suggests picking out adjectives that describe the feel that you want. Some of ours were intimate, classic, elegant, modern, and fun. Then think about how that translates to elements of the wedding--how big or small, what kind of service to have, what kind of music, what kind of food and drink, what time of day.
Once you have decided on a wedding feeling, don't stray from it. Don't second guess it. Don't let others suck you into their wedding industrial complex bullshit. This is especially important if you have particularly opinionated family members or friends who are aghast that you aren't going to do a garter toss or have a receiving line. If you and your partner have already agreed on your vision, you're going to feel more resolute and decided about it, and that way you probably won''t be as defensive when someone questions why you're doing things a certain way. You'll feel confident.
Example: I really, really wanted to walk down the aisle by myself. My father hasn't been part of my life in years, and I didn't want my mom to do it. I just didn't. I figured, I'm almost 30! I am a grown-ass woman! I can walk down the aisle by myself, thankyouverymuch! But, I knew that my mom would be a little disappointed. When she came to visit a few months before the wedding, I brought it up with her and explained why I wanted to do it solo. She listened, and while I know it hurt her feelings a bit, she agreed that it was important for me to do what felt right. And on the wedding day, it wasn't a big deal at all. I was happy with my decision to walk in alone, meeting my future hubs midway, and my mom got the best seat in the house to watch me and my love walk in holding hands.
Borrowing again from A Practical Wedding, remember this truth: the whole goal of a wedding is to get married. If you accomplish this, you have succeeded. The rest is literally just details.****
*Never underestimate the power of a burly man or woman carrying your chuppah/centerpieces/tables/pinterest-y decor so you can have the wedding of your dreams.
**I'm talking dolla dolla bill, y'all. Newsflash: most weddings are a ripoff.
***True story. It never occurred to my friend's mom that she might not (gasp!) even have an aisle-runner at all.
**** I would like to point out that I am actually using literally in an appropriate manner. Imagine that!
Oh, family. Don't we just love to hate them? Kidding, kidding (kind of). I have yet to meet a person whose family doesn't annoy them, and I've yet to encounter an engaged person whose family wasn't causing them to go bat-shit crazy during the process of wedding planning. Here's the reality: as much as your wedding is about the two of you getting married and everyone (hopefully) on an intellectual level knows this to be true, your family probably on some level believes that your wedding is in fact all about them.
This can take all different forms. At best, it means that your family wants to support you financially/emotionally/physically* and they offer to help out with whatever they can, even if it doesn't come in the form you want.** At worst, it means that they want to dictate exactly how your day will go, down to what kind of aisle-runner you will walk in on so as not to ruin your dress.***
As much as this causes your head to spin around all Exorcist-style, it's important that you not let this emotion take over for too long. The reality is that you still have the power. You can decide if, when, and how you are going to compromise. An important note: if someone is generously paying for an aspect of your wedding, I personally think it's rude not to allow their voices to be heard in that area of decision-making. I don't mean offer them carte blanche but be reasonable. If you don't want them to have a say, don't take the money! If you're worried about it, leave the things that matter least to you for others to chip in on. (At some point I'll tell you all about our rehearsal dinner...)
To me, this is why it is so important that at the beginning of your wedding planning process, you and your partner sit down and figure out exactly what kind of wedding you want, not down to the exact detail but the general experience you want to have. Meg Keene of A Practical Wedding suggests picking out adjectives that describe the feel that you want. Some of ours were intimate, classic, elegant, modern, and fun. Then think about how that translates to elements of the wedding--how big or small, what kind of service to have, what kind of music, what kind of food and drink, what time of day.
Once you have decided on a wedding feeling, don't stray from it. Don't second guess it. Don't let others suck you into their wedding industrial complex bullshit. This is especially important if you have particularly opinionated family members or friends who are aghast that you aren't going to do a garter toss or have a receiving line. If you and your partner have already agreed on your vision, you're going to feel more resolute and decided about it, and that way you probably won''t be as defensive when someone questions why you're doing things a certain way. You'll feel confident.
Example: I really, really wanted to walk down the aisle by myself. My father hasn't been part of my life in years, and I didn't want my mom to do it. I just didn't. I figured, I'm almost 30! I am a grown-ass woman! I can walk down the aisle by myself, thankyouverymuch! But, I knew that my mom would be a little disappointed. When she came to visit a few months before the wedding, I brought it up with her and explained why I wanted to do it solo. She listened, and while I know it hurt her feelings a bit, she agreed that it was important for me to do what felt right. And on the wedding day, it wasn't a big deal at all. I was happy with my decision to walk in alone, meeting my future hubs midway, and my mom got the best seat in the house to watch me and my love walk in holding hands.
Borrowing again from A Practical Wedding, remember this truth: the whole goal of a wedding is to get married. If you accomplish this, you have succeeded. The rest is literally just details.****
*Never underestimate the power of a burly man or woman carrying your chuppah/centerpieces/tables/pinterest-y decor so you can have the wedding of your dreams.
**I'm talking dolla dolla bill, y'all. Newsflash: most weddings are a ripoff.
***True story. It never occurred to my friend's mom that she might not (gasp!) even have an aisle-runner at all.
**** I would like to point out that I am actually using literally in an appropriate manner. Imagine that!
Reflections on Wedding Planning (Part One)
One thing I learned very quickly after MT and I got engaged in January of last year was that "wedding planning" when you aren't planning your actual wedding but rather fantasizing about one in your head is absolutely nothing like the real thing. How many of you have--or have friends who have--a Pinterest wedding board (or several) but aren't looking for a serious relationship/engaged/planning a wedding? I did too! And it was loads of fun. But honestly once MT and I were engaged, I never looked at the thing again.
I can honestly say that for 99% of the time that we were planning, both MT and I maintained our sanity and even enjoyed ourselves. There are a few key reasons why.
1. We sat down and created a budget before we decided on anything else. We looked at our savings, our monthly incomes, and decided what we could afford to save each month to pay for the wedding. We guessed what each element of the wedding would cost and then added an extra 10% for unexpected costs. And then we stuck to the budget.
2. We decided what was most important to us and focused on those aspects a majority of the time. For us, those elements were writing an intimate, personal ceremony, making sure we had excellent food and wine, creating a fun party atmosphere, and building a sense of community amongst our guests. The flowers? Not so important to us. The cake? Not so important either. Did we have beautiful flowers and cake? Yes, but we let the professionals do their jobs and we didn't try to micromanage the process.
3. We took our family's input in stride and we remained a unit. Both of our moms at various times pissed us off or rubbed us the wrong way over some detail of the wedding. My mom, for instance, insisted that MT and his groomsman wear identical khaki tuxedos, to which we said, "OH HELL NO." MT's mother, on the other hand, insisted that the Embassy Suites across from our venue--a five-star hotel--was a much better options for guests because--get this--it has an indoor pool. I should also mention that we offered up our house to her for the wedding weekend to save on costs. But, even when those little inevitable moments of differing opinions came up, we stayed a unit, laughed at our moms, and never made it a conflict between the two of us.
4. More for me than for MT: I did not read wedding porn, aka wedding blogs, wedding magazines, etc. We would occasionally watch Four Weddings from time to time for ideas, but all of the rest of the TLC wedding franchise was swiftly deleted from the DVR. I didn't want to second guess every decision we'd made. The one exception re: wedding blogs was that I devoured A Practical Wedding because it affirmed that we could plan a wedding and maintain our sanity. And they are right!
5. We took what we wanted from traditions and said to hell with the rest. I walked myself down the aisle. We didn't do a bouquet toss or garter toss. MT and I spent the night before the wedding together and had a lovely wedding morning eating breakfast in bed and enjoying each other's company. You have to do what feels right to you, even if other people don't understand. If you are out to please everyone, you will please no one, especially yourselves. Sure, you want your guests to be comfortable and enjoy themselves, but that doesn't mean you must give into their every whim and expectation. Just make sure the booze is a'flowin' and people will quickly forget that you didn't read that awful passage from 1 Corinthians or take your new husband's name.
I have a feeling I'm going to have a lot to say on this topic. Stay tuned!
I can honestly say that for 99% of the time that we were planning, both MT and I maintained our sanity and even enjoyed ourselves. There are a few key reasons why.
1. We sat down and created a budget before we decided on anything else. We looked at our savings, our monthly incomes, and decided what we could afford to save each month to pay for the wedding. We guessed what each element of the wedding would cost and then added an extra 10% for unexpected costs. And then we stuck to the budget.
2. We decided what was most important to us and focused on those aspects a majority of the time. For us, those elements were writing an intimate, personal ceremony, making sure we had excellent food and wine, creating a fun party atmosphere, and building a sense of community amongst our guests. The flowers? Not so important to us. The cake? Not so important either. Did we have beautiful flowers and cake? Yes, but we let the professionals do their jobs and we didn't try to micromanage the process.
3. We took our family's input in stride and we remained a unit. Both of our moms at various times pissed us off or rubbed us the wrong way over some detail of the wedding. My mom, for instance, insisted that MT and his groomsman wear identical khaki tuxedos, to which we said, "OH HELL NO." MT's mother, on the other hand, insisted that the Embassy Suites across from our venue--a five-star hotel--was a much better options for guests because--get this--it has an indoor pool. I should also mention that we offered up our house to her for the wedding weekend to save on costs. But, even when those little inevitable moments of differing opinions came up, we stayed a unit, laughed at our moms, and never made it a conflict between the two of us.
4. More for me than for MT: I did not read wedding porn, aka wedding blogs, wedding magazines, etc. We would occasionally watch Four Weddings from time to time for ideas, but all of the rest of the TLC wedding franchise was swiftly deleted from the DVR. I didn't want to second guess every decision we'd made. The one exception re: wedding blogs was that I devoured A Practical Wedding because it affirmed that we could plan a wedding and maintain our sanity. And they are right!
5. We took what we wanted from traditions and said to hell with the rest. I walked myself down the aisle. We didn't do a bouquet toss or garter toss. MT and I spent the night before the wedding together and had a lovely wedding morning eating breakfast in bed and enjoying each other's company. You have to do what feels right to you, even if other people don't understand. If you are out to please everyone, you will please no one, especially yourselves. Sure, you want your guests to be comfortable and enjoy themselves, but that doesn't mean you must give into their every whim and expectation. Just make sure the booze is a'flowin' and people will quickly forget that you didn't read that awful passage from 1 Corinthians or take your new husband's name.
I have a feeling I'm going to have a lot to say on this topic. Stay tuned!
The Power of Powerlessness
Today didn't off to the greatest start. It all sounds a little silly in retrospect, but here's how it went down. After a nice morning walk with Lucy, I'd geared up for a hardcore workout care of Amy Dixon's Breathless Body DVD which I'd just gotten in the mail the day before.* I even had my episode of The Good Wife all queued on my iPad when the damn computer kept spitting out my disc. I must have tried about eight million different things to get this sucker to cooperate, but the stubborn thing would just not play.
I called my resident IT guy aka my husband to save me from my irritation. The poor man had just gotten out of the shower, but up the stairs he came, buck naked and dripping wet, ready to help me out. It's actually pretty hilarious when I think about it. But at the time all I could think was, "Time is a' tickin'! I must get in my 45 minutes of hardcore HIIT training or else this lovely five pounds of honeymoon weight** I gained is never going to come off." After some troubleshooting and careful maneuvering of wiring (he was still naked after all) we finally got the damn disc to play and off I went to suffer breathlessly as Amy Dixon proceeded to kick my ass for the next hour.
For the next hour, all was well in the universe. Until the power went out. Was there a storm? Wind? Anything? Nope, sure wasn't. At first it was just annoying. I figured I'd take the opportunity to shower and get ready for the day because surely the power would be back on by time I was done. It wasn't. The estimate we eventually got from the power company was noon. NOON? That was more than THREE HOURS from the time the power went out!
MT, who was also working from home, had the luxury of a laptop computer battery which kept him connected for a few hours. But all I had was an iPad with less than 20% battery life and my iPhone which provided the slowest Internet connection imaginable. I could only stand to send an email or two before giving up on the piece of crap.
Power or no power, I was bound and determined to get something done. I started organizing my desk, throwing away stacks of old reports and business cards. I even organized my pens. Basically I was going nuts. Normally a random break from work in the middle of the week would be amazing, but today was seriously shitty timing. I was scheduled to lead a webinar for more than 100 people, and all of my notes, slides, etc. were on the computer I couldn't start. Shit.
Once MT's laptop battery died, we started cleaning the house together. We figured we might as well do the stuff we've been putting off, like taking this ugly-ass table and matching ugly-ass chairs to Goodwill. Then we started tossing eyesores like this rolled up carpet that had once been a lovely addition to the decor in the living room but quickly became known as "Lucy's favorite place to pee and poop." We started mentally planning out a new layout for our sun room, picturing a new comfy chair tucked into the corner where I can read my Kindle while he works on his latest mosaic.
It was all going so well until noon rolled around and of course, we had no power. New estimate? 3:30. I was going to miss the webinar no matter what. I called my colleague, got her to take care of notifying our participants, and threw up my hands. What else could we do?
Not wanting to open up the fridge and let the cool air escape, we were at a loss for what to do about lunch at home, plus we were going slightly stircrazy, so we figured we might as well go out for a bite. Over plates of Chinese chicken salad and cups of soda, we had an amazing conversation about our families--how each of us feels in some ways that we have more in common with the other's family than with our own. MT's generosity is so like my brothers' and mom's, and my desire for deep conversation is so much like his parents'.
He said, "We each have what our families lack. That must make us perfect!"
I said, "We must lack something."
He said, with a smirk, "We both lack perfect families."
The lesson learned for me is that when I let go and allow the situation to be what it is, it often turns out to be better than what I had planned. Sure, I have about a hundred emails waiting for me to answer. And I'm bummed about having to reschedule my presentation, knowing many people will probably have lost interest by then. But I wouldn't trade the day of togetherness, problem-solving, and toughing it out that we had instead. All in all, a very good day indeed.
And yes, our power is back on. Hallelujah!
* I should mention that last night Lucy had gotten a hold of aforementioned DVD, puncturing the jacket with her lovely little canine fangs. Little shithead.
** Note: if you decide to make drinking an entire bottle of wine by yourself before dinner a nightly habit during a week long trip, you will in fact gain weight. Who knew?
I called my resident IT guy aka my husband to save me from my irritation. The poor man had just gotten out of the shower, but up the stairs he came, buck naked and dripping wet, ready to help me out. It's actually pretty hilarious when I think about it. But at the time all I could think was, "Time is a' tickin'! I must get in my 45 minutes of hardcore HIIT training or else this lovely five pounds of honeymoon weight** I gained is never going to come off." After some troubleshooting and careful maneuvering of wiring (he was still naked after all) we finally got the damn disc to play and off I went to suffer breathlessly as Amy Dixon proceeded to kick my ass for the next hour.
For the next hour, all was well in the universe. Until the power went out. Was there a storm? Wind? Anything? Nope, sure wasn't. At first it was just annoying. I figured I'd take the opportunity to shower and get ready for the day because surely the power would be back on by time I was done. It wasn't. The estimate we eventually got from the power company was noon. NOON? That was more than THREE HOURS from the time the power went out!
MT, who was also working from home, had the luxury of a laptop computer battery which kept him connected for a few hours. But all I had was an iPad with less than 20% battery life and my iPhone which provided the slowest Internet connection imaginable. I could only stand to send an email or two before giving up on the piece of crap.
Power or no power, I was bound and determined to get something done. I started organizing my desk, throwing away stacks of old reports and business cards. I even organized my pens. Basically I was going nuts. Normally a random break from work in the middle of the week would be amazing, but today was seriously shitty timing. I was scheduled to lead a webinar for more than 100 people, and all of my notes, slides, etc. were on the computer I couldn't start. Shit.
Once MT's laptop battery died, we started cleaning the house together. We figured we might as well do the stuff we've been putting off, like taking this ugly-ass table and matching ugly-ass chairs to Goodwill. Then we started tossing eyesores like this rolled up carpet that had once been a lovely addition to the decor in the living room but quickly became known as "Lucy's favorite place to pee and poop." We started mentally planning out a new layout for our sun room, picturing a new comfy chair tucked into the corner where I can read my Kindle while he works on his latest mosaic.
It was all going so well until noon rolled around and of course, we had no power. New estimate? 3:30. I was going to miss the webinar no matter what. I called my colleague, got her to take care of notifying our participants, and threw up my hands. What else could we do?
Not wanting to open up the fridge and let the cool air escape, we were at a loss for what to do about lunch at home, plus we were going slightly stircrazy, so we figured we might as well go out for a bite. Over plates of Chinese chicken salad and cups of soda, we had an amazing conversation about our families--how each of us feels in some ways that we have more in common with the other's family than with our own. MT's generosity is so like my brothers' and mom's, and my desire for deep conversation is so much like his parents'.
He said, "We each have what our families lack. That must make us perfect!"
I said, "We must lack something."
He said, with a smirk, "We both lack perfect families."
The lesson learned for me is that when I let go and allow the situation to be what it is, it often turns out to be better than what I had planned. Sure, I have about a hundred emails waiting for me to answer. And I'm bummed about having to reschedule my presentation, knowing many people will probably have lost interest by then. But I wouldn't trade the day of togetherness, problem-solving, and toughing it out that we had instead. All in all, a very good day indeed.
And yes, our power is back on. Hallelujah!
* I should mention that last night Lucy had gotten a hold of aforementioned DVD, puncturing the jacket with her lovely little canine fangs. Little shithead.
** Note: if you decide to make drinking an entire bottle of wine by yourself before dinner a nightly habit during a week long trip, you will in fact gain weight. Who knew?
On Accepting Help
On the rare occasion that I wish to tweet something anonymously, I do so from my dancingthruDC handle. It's not a venue where I expect much dialogue (I have only a few hundred followers), but sometimes it feels good just to put the words out into the world--and quickly.
I tweeted, "Martyrdom is just another form of narcissism."
I was hoarse from yelling. I'd just gotten off the phone with my mother who was angry with me that I'd sent her a check for several hundred dollars, money I owed her for various things but that she hadn't asked for. Just last week my mom's boss told her that he couldn't afford to keep her there full-time and that she would need to find a new job.
This was an incredibly unexpected blow to her, not just financially but to her self-esteem. My mom began working with her boss right when he opened his company and in many ways was his partner in building it. A few years ago, she felt that he didn't appreciate her, and she actually left to take another job. But only a few months later, he begged her to come back because his business was suffering. She was the glue that held it together, mostly because she keeps his clients happy and calm. (They do tax work, so this is particularly important.)
Now here she is, nearly sixty years old and without many prospects for what to do next. I know she's scared as hell, and embarrassed to be facing this situation. But she's rejecting any sort of help that our family is offering her.
My brothers and I actually got on a conference call to discuss that we 1) want her to be happy and 2) want her to be taken care of financially, no matter what happens with her ability to find a new job. Thankfully all of us are in good financial shape, and are in a position to step up and help her out for as long as she needs it. But, she's pushing away all our attempts to be helpful and supportive. When I call her, she says, "I'm ok, don't worry, I'll be fine."
This kind of martyr talk really irritates the shit out of me. No, she is not ok. No she is not fine. And yes, I will worry about her.
I'm not sure what to do next. Part of me wants to throw my hands up and say, "not my problem." Her continual rejections of our help are hurtful, and frankly I'm tired of her pretending to be fine. I guess we just have to keep pushing her to accept that her pride is getting in the way of her own happiness. But I can't force her to learn that.
I tweeted, "Martyrdom is just another form of narcissism."
I was hoarse from yelling. I'd just gotten off the phone with my mother who was angry with me that I'd sent her a check for several hundred dollars, money I owed her for various things but that she hadn't asked for. Just last week my mom's boss told her that he couldn't afford to keep her there full-time and that she would need to find a new job.
This was an incredibly unexpected blow to her, not just financially but to her self-esteem. My mom began working with her boss right when he opened his company and in many ways was his partner in building it. A few years ago, she felt that he didn't appreciate her, and she actually left to take another job. But only a few months later, he begged her to come back because his business was suffering. She was the glue that held it together, mostly because she keeps his clients happy and calm. (They do tax work, so this is particularly important.)
Now here she is, nearly sixty years old and without many prospects for what to do next. I know she's scared as hell, and embarrassed to be facing this situation. But she's rejecting any sort of help that our family is offering her.
My brothers and I actually got on a conference call to discuss that we 1) want her to be happy and 2) want her to be taken care of financially, no matter what happens with her ability to find a new job. Thankfully all of us are in good financial shape, and are in a position to step up and help her out for as long as she needs it. But, she's pushing away all our attempts to be helpful and supportive. When I call her, she says, "I'm ok, don't worry, I'll be fine."
This kind of martyr talk really irritates the shit out of me. No, she is not ok. No she is not fine. And yes, I will worry about her.
I'm not sure what to do next. Part of me wants to throw my hands up and say, "not my problem." Her continual rejections of our help are hurtful, and frankly I'm tired of her pretending to be fine. I guess we just have to keep pushing her to accept that her pride is getting in the way of her own happiness. But I can't force her to learn that.
A True Partner
(Some of you have asked to see my wedding dress. I'd love to share it, but I'm keeping it a secret from Carolina Man! Feel free to email me at thenonstudent@gmail.com if you want a picture.)
In the past, the term "partner" was one I used only because I hated referring to a significant other as "boyfriend." Saying "partner" sounded less sophomoric, more serious and committed. And sometimes it kind of confused people who were used to hearing the word only to describe gay and lesbian couples. I sort of liked that. It felt like I was being ultra-politically correct by using it.
But in reality, I had no freaking idea what I was talking about. I threw around the term "partner" mostly because I wanted to be treated like an adult and I liked the way it sounded, not because it was a true reflection of that relationship.
Partnership is teamwork. It's unity and commonality. It is a locked-arm-in-arm way of moving forward into the unknown of the future. And it's also wrapped up in the mundane tasks of daily life, like unloading the dishwasher even if it isn't your turn. Or picking up the dog's poop again. It's learning to love someone's family as your own.
Carolina Man is my partner in the truest sense of the word. Yesterday after my mom left to go visit my uncle, he held me as I cried, feeling overwhelmed not only by her departure, but by how my life has changed over the past year. Change for the good is still change, and it can sting in the most unexpected ways. As difficult as it is to feel those things, I know I can do so safely in his arms. No matter how I'm feeling, or what triggered my emotions, he is reassuring and affirming. Those moments are what deepen and solidify the trust we are continually building.
The best compliments Carolina Man and I have received as a couple are the ones that reflect our striving to act as a team in all that we do, whether that's in how we have conversations with each other or how we train our dog Lucy. My mom said the other day that she knew we would be great parents because we will raise our children with intentionality. I believe she is absolutely right about that.
Carolina Man and I still have so much to learn about each other. But with each hurdle we encounter, we do so with honesty, respect, and love for one another.
In the past, the term "partner" was one I used only because I hated referring to a significant other as "boyfriend." Saying "partner" sounded less sophomoric, more serious and committed. And sometimes it kind of confused people who were used to hearing the word only to describe gay and lesbian couples. I sort of liked that. It felt like I was being ultra-politically correct by using it.
But in reality, I had no freaking idea what I was talking about. I threw around the term "partner" mostly because I wanted to be treated like an adult and I liked the way it sounded, not because it was a true reflection of that relationship.
Partnership is teamwork. It's unity and commonality. It is a locked-arm-in-arm way of moving forward into the unknown of the future. And it's also wrapped up in the mundane tasks of daily life, like unloading the dishwasher even if it isn't your turn. Or picking up the dog's poop again. It's learning to love someone's family as your own.
Carolina Man is my partner in the truest sense of the word. Yesterday after my mom left to go visit my uncle, he held me as I cried, feeling overwhelmed not only by her departure, but by how my life has changed over the past year. Change for the good is still change, and it can sting in the most unexpected ways. As difficult as it is to feel those things, I know I can do so safely in his arms. No matter how I'm feeling, or what triggered my emotions, he is reassuring and affirming. Those moments are what deepen and solidify the trust we are continually building.
The best compliments Carolina Man and I have received as a couple are the ones that reflect our striving to act as a team in all that we do, whether that's in how we have conversations with each other or how we train our dog Lucy. My mom said the other day that she knew we would be great parents because we will raise our children with intentionality. I believe she is absolutely right about that.
Carolina Man and I still have so much to learn about each other. But with each hurdle we encounter, we do so with honesty, respect, and love for one another.
The Ghosts of a Job Past
When I first started this blog in the summer of 2009, I was preparing to move to DC and begin a new life. What I never really bothered to mention was what I was leaving, in particular a job that I absolutely despised.
Like most just-out-of-school jobs, mine was crappy for normal reasons: a long-commute, low pay, little creative freedom, and post-academia life confusion. But, on top of that I had the meanest, most manipulative, self-absorbed, deluded psycho of a boss, who seemed to really enjoy making my life miserable. About a month before my departure (and no other job lined up at the time), we had a major blow-up after she mocked something I'd worked hard on. I told her that I absolutely hated coming to work everyday.
Now, a few years later, I realize that it was in part my immaturity that made my job so miserable. But, since leaving that organization, I've seen how my former boss continues to alienate and manipulate her way through her professional life. She and I are on mostly pleasant terms, and she even invites me to participate in some events together. As it turns out, I'm becoming an important player in the field, and I work for a powerful organization. She keeps me in the loop because she needs to. I keep her at a safe, but friendly arm's length if you know what I mean. I feel I'm too early in my career to be burning bridges, even if they're with people I'd rather not cross over to see.
But now, I'm not so sure. I got a truly hysterical email from my old boss, claiming financial ruin and begging for money--and that it was, of course, someone else's fault. As it turns out, the someone else is a dear colleague, and I couldn't believe that this was the whole story. More details have come out since then, and I am finding myself more and more upset that she's throwing this person under the bus. I don't know what is true and what is a lie, but she has stooped to an all-time low to benefit herself.
It's tough to be looped into all of this, and be in the midst of the noise of it all. She's blowing up Twitter, Facebook, the Internet with this stuff, and I just want nothing to do with it. Eventually, I decided to write her a short "I'm sorry" email and let it go. But her requests for money kept coming in, and I started to feel badly for her staff whose jobs are on the line. Finally, I sent her a small donation this morning just to have some peace of mind. It's tax-deductible, and it's money I could afford to give.
I feel a little better now. But most of all, I'm saddened by this implosion in our community. There aren't many people doing what we're doing, and to feel it crumbling apart from the inside is truly a sad thing. I'm just thankful I got out of there, and that for now, I have peace in my job.
Like most just-out-of-school jobs, mine was crappy for normal reasons: a long-commute, low pay, little creative freedom, and post-academia life confusion. But, on top of that I had the meanest, most manipulative, self-absorbed, deluded psycho of a boss, who seemed to really enjoy making my life miserable. About a month before my departure (and no other job lined up at the time), we had a major blow-up after she mocked something I'd worked hard on. I told her that I absolutely hated coming to work everyday.
Now, a few years later, I realize that it was in part my immaturity that made my job so miserable. But, since leaving that organization, I've seen how my former boss continues to alienate and manipulate her way through her professional life. She and I are on mostly pleasant terms, and she even invites me to participate in some events together. As it turns out, I'm becoming an important player in the field, and I work for a powerful organization. She keeps me in the loop because she needs to. I keep her at a safe, but friendly arm's length if you know what I mean. I feel I'm too early in my career to be burning bridges, even if they're with people I'd rather not cross over to see.
But now, I'm not so sure. I got a truly hysterical email from my old boss, claiming financial ruin and begging for money--and that it was, of course, someone else's fault. As it turns out, the someone else is a dear colleague, and I couldn't believe that this was the whole story. More details have come out since then, and I am finding myself more and more upset that she's throwing this person under the bus. I don't know what is true and what is a lie, but she has stooped to an all-time low to benefit herself.
It's tough to be looped into all of this, and be in the midst of the noise of it all. She's blowing up Twitter, Facebook, the Internet with this stuff, and I just want nothing to do with it. Eventually, I decided to write her a short "I'm sorry" email and let it go. But her requests for money kept coming in, and I started to feel badly for her staff whose jobs are on the line. Finally, I sent her a small donation this morning just to have some peace of mind. It's tax-deductible, and it's money I could afford to give.
I feel a little better now. But most of all, I'm saddened by this implosion in our community. There aren't many people doing what we're doing, and to feel it crumbling apart from the inside is truly a sad thing. I'm just thankful I got out of there, and that for now, I have peace in my job.
A note to the fellow newly engaged and to-be-engaged folks
I had no idea how crazy people get over weddings. Wells, that's not quite true. I have been known to watch a marathon of Bridezillas, so I did get a sense of how some people get crazy over weddings.
What I did not know was how crazy the people in my own life would get over our wedding. One that Carolina Man and I haven't even begun planning because, oh yeah, we haven't even been engaged for two weeks yet. I'm still completely distracted by my ring. No one in that state of mind could be making decisions about a wedding.
I guess I thought when I told people I got engaged that they'd A) want to see the ring and B) want to hear the proposal story. WRONG. Instead they want A and then skip a few steps to ask when I'm getting married. Literally hours after we were engaged, people wanted to know the date we were going to tie the knot.
I suppose it's a logical question to ask, but it's one that started to get old really, really fast. I've adjusted my responses over time. At first I'd smile and say, "I don't know!" And then after I got asked it about a hundred times, I tried to play the guilt card, "Everyone keeps asking me that, and we just got engaged." Kind of snippy, kind of downer way to respond. Plus, it didn't do any good. The next person would just ask me the same question. And now I just accept their curiosity and say, "Probably sometime next year." Vague, noncommittal, but satisfactory enough that they move on.
Did I mention that my boss is already asking if she can wear a silver dress to the wedding?
What I'm learning is that a lot of people want to live vicariously through my experience, and that means they've got a lot of opinions they want to share with me. What I have to remember is they mean well, but I don't have to take it all to heart.
I just hope that their curiosity doesn't wane too much because when we do actually begin planning, I'm sure I'll be looking for some eager ears to entertain my ideas.
Anyone else experience this kind of interrogation about wedding dates? How did you deal with it?
What I did not know was how crazy the people in my own life would get over our wedding. One that Carolina Man and I haven't even begun planning because, oh yeah, we haven't even been engaged for two weeks yet. I'm still completely distracted by my ring. No one in that state of mind could be making decisions about a wedding.
I guess I thought when I told people I got engaged that they'd A) want to see the ring and B) want to hear the proposal story. WRONG. Instead they want A and then skip a few steps to ask when I'm getting married. Literally hours after we were engaged, people wanted to know the date we were going to tie the knot.
I suppose it's a logical question to ask, but it's one that started to get old really, really fast. I've adjusted my responses over time. At first I'd smile and say, "I don't know!" And then after I got asked it about a hundred times, I tried to play the guilt card, "Everyone keeps asking me that, and we just got engaged." Kind of snippy, kind of downer way to respond. Plus, it didn't do any good. The next person would just ask me the same question. And now I just accept their curiosity and say, "Probably sometime next year." Vague, noncommittal, but satisfactory enough that they move on.
Did I mention that my boss is already asking if she can wear a silver dress to the wedding?
What I'm learning is that a lot of people want to live vicariously through my experience, and that means they've got a lot of opinions they want to share with me. What I have to remember is they mean well, but I don't have to take it all to heart.
I just hope that their curiosity doesn't wane too much because when we do actually begin planning, I'm sure I'll be looking for some eager ears to entertain my ideas.
Anyone else experience this kind of interrogation about wedding dates? How did you deal with it?
Worth the Risk
A few weeks ago, I got an email from a friend of mine in DC. She's not someone I know that well, but she reached out to me about her current situation: she's thinking about moving across the country to a place she's always wanted to move with a guy she met a few months ago. They wouldn't live together, just continue dating. And unsurprisingly, her friends are concerned and therefore not as supportive as she was hoping. She asked what I went through when I moved to NC and any advice I could give her.
This is what I wrote back:
I totally hear what you're saying about your friends not getting it. I think that's because we are all pretty rational about everyone else's lives, but not as much as our own. We consider our emotions and gut feelings when we make decisions about what we're going to do. And it sucks that other people can't feel or relate to those feelings--or even affirm that we have them at all.
I think it's good that friends are looking out for you, but ultimately they can't know what's best for you. Only you know that. The people who care about you in DC want you to stay put, I'm sure. No one is going to say, "Please move across the country!" They love you; they want you around. It's a good thing.
When I met Carolina Man, I knew almost immediately that I would marry him. Everyone thought I was crazy, except for my mom who backed me 100%. That ended up being enough confirmation for me to move forward with the move. I wanted other people to feel excited for me, but after many failed attempts to get that reaction, I finally came to the conclusion that they just weren't going to get it, at least not as quickly as I wanted them to. Everyone thought I was crazy to move for a guy after two months. But, it's turned out to be the best decision I've made in a long time.
I say, go with your gut, and choose carefully whom you bring into your decision-making. You are a beautiful, smart, talented woman, and what's the worst thing that could happen? You move there, hate it, and decide to move somewhere else. So, I'd say if you can handle that and it feels right, then go for it. I think love/adventure/excitement is always worth chasing after. Otherwise we're just living in fear of what we might lose.
I'm not sure what my friend will ultimately decide, but I hope that she makes a decision out of a place of both head and heart, and not out of fear alone.
My 2012 "To Stop"s
So, maybe I'm a little late to the game on posting this, but hey, I'll bet some people have already broken, if not forgotten their resolutions altogether. Frankly, I'm hoping some of the January, New-Year-Resolution-ers who are early morning gym-goers and use all of the good treadmills will be among them soon. I need that prime location right in front of the TV playing the Today show. How else am I going to stand 30 minutes on a stationary bike?
I actually don't have any real resolutions this year, but I do have a few things I'd like to stop doing, ranging from silly to serious. Here they are.
I actually don't have any real resolutions this year, but I do have a few things I'd like to stop doing, ranging from silly to serious. Here they are.
- Stop buying things online just because they come with free samples. I was such a sucker for this during the holiday season. My downfall? Sephora. And Ulta. And Bumble & Bumble.
- Stop obsessively checking Rue La La for Cole Haan shoe sales. I bought four pairs in a month. Three of which I purchased in a single sitting while interviewing someone on the phone. (She rambled so much that she didn't even notice.)
- Stop grilling Carolina Man about the surprise weekend he has planned for us at the end of this month. Otherwise he'll give in and tell me, and it won't be a surprise. I asked him last night who was going to watch Lucy, and he said, "I got it covered." I'll try to trust that he's thought of everything.
- Stop saying that I refuse to go to the gym at 6:30 am as I am putting on my gym clothes. Really, who am I kidding with this one? Shut up and put your spandex on.
- Stop signing up for free magazines that I will never read. I am obsessed with this. Beer Connoisseur? Sure! Finance Daily? Why not? Maxim? I love the articles! Seriously, I am a magazine hoarder, and I need an intervention.
- Similarly, stop downloading free Kindle books that I will never read.
- Stop weighing myself everyday. This is just self-inflicted torture.
- Stop feeling sorry for myself that I have to travel so much. I have an awesome job that I love, and that other people would love to have. And it's awesome to have someone who misses me and can't wait to see me when I get home. (I mean, besides my dog Lucy.)
- Stop worrying that things are going to fall apart. Life is good. Enjoy it. I know I can handle the storm. But sometimes I think I have trouble enjoying the calm because it's so unfamiliar.
- Stop listening to the voices of self-doubt and go for it. There are worse things than failing.
May it be so!
Things I'm Glad Weren't True
As my relationship with Carolina Man continues to grow better and better each day, I've been thinking about the advice, concerns, and questions I got from the people in my life--the ones who love me the most and the ones who just like to give unsolicited advice about relationships, which includes pretty much everyone and I put myself in that category as well.
From the well-meaning to the mean-spirited, I've gotten a lot of advice about how to do all of this, and while some of it was helpful, a lot of it turned out to be mostly untrue. I'm not saying that these snippets of advice are untrue for everyone, but they weren't true for me and they may not be true for you either.
1. You'll find love when you're not looking for it.
Finding a partner was something I felt like I was always doing, almost in an OCD way at times. It seemed like every attractive man I passed was a potential date, and I started looking for wedding bands right away. It was a pretty strange way of experiencing the world, mostly because it made me feel insane.
When I met Carolina Man, my ring-finger obsession had waned a bit, but I was still very much thinking about my life and how I wanted a partner. Being crystal clear about my wants and desires actually was part of what attracted CM to me in the first place.
My truth: I found love where I wasn't expecting it.
2. You need to be ok with being alone before you're ready for a relationship.
Looking for love and being happy with yourself are not mutually exclusive. Self-acceptance is about being satisfied with who you are, not necessarily your circumstances. In fact, it's in part about being able to discern the two. As in, just because life's shitty at times doesn't make me a shitty person. The problem comes when you want any relationship just for the sake of having one rather than one that's a good fit.
When I met CM, I was taking good care of myself and working on the inner critic bullshit. That upped my self-awareness and helped me be in tune with what was going on internally.
My truth: I needed to be self-aware of my feelings and desires before I was ready for a relationship.
3. Don't date more than 10 years older.
Confession: no one said this to me. I said it to myself! I set up this arbitrary decade limit for how old I'd date. I thought there would be no way I could relate to someone older than my oldest brother who's 37. When I was online dating, I immediately eliminated anyone older than that.
But CM is hardly an old man! I do have fun picking at him that when he graduated high school I was just going into kindergarten, but in all honesty, he's young at heart, goofy, and keeps me laughing. That's way more important than how many birthdays he's had.
My truth: Don't make age a non-negotiable.
Life is unpredictable. We can go through it trying to avoid hardship and heartache, but in the end, we get hurt anyway. So, why not just take the chance?
The Sass is Back
I'm a Southern woman, born and raised. This surprises a lot of people I meet primarily because A) I don't have the accent and B) I like to say fuck a lot. This wasn't always the case. Back in high school, I was a Bible Belter, goody two-shoes like most of my friends.
That all started to change ironically when I went to divinity school in Connecticut. People were abrasive and direct, which at first I found rude but then came to appreciate. There was no bullshit. Sure, I missed the friendliness of saying 'hi' to people on the street, but then again, there were so many pedestrians I could've spent my entire walk to campus greeting strangers. Instead I learned to look inward and found quiet and stillness.
I also developed quite a bit of attitude. Since my birth, my mom had taught me the passive aggressive ways of southern culture--that you ignore cat calls and kill rude people with kindness. As it turns out, these are not particularly satisfying strategies for dealing with assholes. I always felt disempowered and wished I'd been quicker with my tongue.
At some point, things shifted. I started with a few mouthy comebacks to men who would whistle or say something inappropriate to me on the street. One night I was coming home from CVS when a man in a truck said, "Hey there, sexy." I walked a few steps and yelled back, "Why don't you shut the fuck up!?" He probably thought I was a crazy bitch, but I felt this awesome rush of adrenaline and felt proud that I'd managed to make him, well, shut the fuck up.
Now after six years of living elsewhere, I'm back in the South and experiencing severe reverse culture shock. It first struck me when I went to a Zumba class at the gym and realized I was the most gyrating one in the class (something that NEVER would have happened in DC). I've changed and I'm not sure I can adopt the southern lady thing again.
The other day, Carolina Man and I were out playing bocce and throwing a frisbee at the park. A man walked by us, and remembering that I was in the South, I made eye contact and said hello. He replied, "You know, you really should use your arm more and your wrist less."
And without even thinking, I retorted with annoyance in my voice, "Thanks, but I didn't ask you." It wasn't rude exactly, but it was direct and it sent a clear message that I didn't appreciate his unsolicited advice about my frisbee throwing ability.
My mom probably would've died with embarrassment if she'd heard me say that. She would have preferred I'd feigned politeness or even gratitude, and then talked behind his back. Instead I said what I felt. And it felt pretty awesome!
Carolina Man said, "And that's why I love you."
That all started to change ironically when I went to divinity school in Connecticut. People were abrasive and direct, which at first I found rude but then came to appreciate. There was no bullshit. Sure, I missed the friendliness of saying 'hi' to people on the street, but then again, there were so many pedestrians I could've spent my entire walk to campus greeting strangers. Instead I learned to look inward and found quiet and stillness.
I also developed quite a bit of attitude. Since my birth, my mom had taught me the passive aggressive ways of southern culture--that you ignore cat calls and kill rude people with kindness. As it turns out, these are not particularly satisfying strategies for dealing with assholes. I always felt disempowered and wished I'd been quicker with my tongue.
At some point, things shifted. I started with a few mouthy comebacks to men who would whistle or say something inappropriate to me on the street. One night I was coming home from CVS when a man in a truck said, "Hey there, sexy." I walked a few steps and yelled back, "Why don't you shut the fuck up!?" He probably thought I was a crazy bitch, but I felt this awesome rush of adrenaline and felt proud that I'd managed to make him, well, shut the fuck up.
Now after six years of living elsewhere, I'm back in the South and experiencing severe reverse culture shock. It first struck me when I went to a Zumba class at the gym and realized I was the most gyrating one in the class (something that NEVER would have happened in DC). I've changed and I'm not sure I can adopt the southern lady thing again.
The other day, Carolina Man and I were out playing bocce and throwing a frisbee at the park. A man walked by us, and remembering that I was in the South, I made eye contact and said hello. He replied, "You know, you really should use your arm more and your wrist less."
And without even thinking, I retorted with annoyance in my voice, "Thanks, but I didn't ask you." It wasn't rude exactly, but it was direct and it sent a clear message that I didn't appreciate his unsolicited advice about my frisbee throwing ability.
My mom probably would've died with embarrassment if she'd heard me say that. She would have preferred I'd feigned politeness or even gratitude, and then talked behind his back. Instead I said what I felt. And it felt pretty awesome!
Carolina Man said, "And that's why I love you."
Carolina Man's Birthday Week Recap
Carolina Man celebrated a big birthday last week, and since it was also our first together, I decided to make his birthday extra special by making a game out of his gifts. I created my own version of Dirty Minds with each present having three dirty-sounding clues that would lead CM to his gift. Like, "Press me up against something thick and juicy" and "I love you to hold my rear end" for the tomato knife I'd gotten him. Most of the gifts were small things, but it was fun creating a game out of it. I gave him a gift a day during his birthday week, with a couple extra ones on his actual birthday.
It's amazing how having a thoughtful partner makes me want to be more thoughtful. Even more that that, knowing how appreciative he is of the effort I put into it makes me want to make every occasion that special.
There's a fine line there, though. Both CM and I tend to be others-focused. Most of the time that's a good thing. We consider what other people are feeling and experiencing. But for me, it can definitely go overboard, and it was nearing that with this birthday. I felt so much internal pressure to wow him, to make his birthday perfect that I ended up putting a financial strain on myself. I kept feeling like I could do more and more, never knowing when I'd done enough. I suppose there's still some insecurity there about this relationship being as good and solid as it feels, and so I feel the need to overcompensate.
The best part is I could tell CM all of this. We talked through it all, even going back into birthdays past and recalling the thoughtlessness of our former partners. And it created even more closeness to talk about those insecurities rather than to act as if they weren't there. I'm very grateful for that openness we share.
It's amazing how having a thoughtful partner makes me want to be more thoughtful. Even more that that, knowing how appreciative he is of the effort I put into it makes me want to make every occasion that special.
There's a fine line there, though. Both CM and I tend to be others-focused. Most of the time that's a good thing. We consider what other people are feeling and experiencing. But for me, it can definitely go overboard, and it was nearing that with this birthday. I felt so much internal pressure to wow him, to make his birthday perfect that I ended up putting a financial strain on myself. I kept feeling like I could do more and more, never knowing when I'd done enough. I suppose there's still some insecurity there about this relationship being as good and solid as it feels, and so I feel the need to overcompensate.
The best part is I could tell CM all of this. We talked through it all, even going back into birthdays past and recalling the thoughtlessness of our former partners. And it created even more closeness to talk about those insecurities rather than to act as if they weren't there. I'm very grateful for that openness we share.
A Purging Ritual
After a much overdue catch-up session with Katie, complete with jumbo margaritas, I decided it was time to purge my life of all things ex related. I was pretty far along in the process to begin with--I'd gotten it all into a single box, tucked away underneath my bed. But, I hadn't taken that final step of actually getting rid of all of it. So last night, I went through and pitched every card, picture, and memento into a big black garbage bag.
It's not hard for me to understand why I wanted to hang onto that stuff. I'm a very sentimental person. I've kept every birthday card ever given to me. I think that's in part due to being the third child in my family at which point my parents were pretty sick and tired of documenting their kids' every move. There isn't even a picture of me from the day I was born! So, I've taken it upon myself to keep things that are special and hold meaning.
After the break-up, I'd stuffed all of our memories into a boyfriend box and sealed it up just like I had with my exes from high school and college. I thought maybe one day I'd want to show my kids or something. But, that seems kind of ridiculous with this last relationship. It was too deep of a hurt, too disappointing. Why would I ever want to be reminded of that again?
I felt a little tug at my heart as I threw away the best pieces of us, but I know deep down it was the right thing. I know that those few highlights don't represent the real relationship we had--the distrust, the secrets, the dysfunction. Keeping them would have made me question the truth that I know--that he wasn't the right person for me.
I feel lighter.
It's not hard for me to understand why I wanted to hang onto that stuff. I'm a very sentimental person. I've kept every birthday card ever given to me. I think that's in part due to being the third child in my family at which point my parents were pretty sick and tired of documenting their kids' every move. There isn't even a picture of me from the day I was born! So, I've taken it upon myself to keep things that are special and hold meaning.
After the break-up, I'd stuffed all of our memories into a boyfriend box and sealed it up just like I had with my exes from high school and college. I thought maybe one day I'd want to show my kids or something. But, that seems kind of ridiculous with this last relationship. It was too deep of a hurt, too disappointing. Why would I ever want to be reminded of that again?
I felt a little tug at my heart as I threw away the best pieces of us, but I know deep down it was the right thing. I know that those few highlights don't represent the real relationship we had--the distrust, the secrets, the dysfunction. Keeping them would have made me question the truth that I know--that he wasn't the right person for me.
I feel lighter.
Too Good to Be True?
At 4:45 today I was annoyed to get a call from my project's funder, asking if we could push our last minute meeting (which they had called) back by another half hour. Just last week I'd managed to squeeze in their request, and now they were asking me to change it at the very last moment. I was irritated, to say the least.
That is, until they said they wanted to offer us full funding for another year. And that if we wanted more funding just to ask for it. They have it for us, and they want us to "think big."
What. The. Fuck.
This is unheard of. Funders don't just call you up and say, "Hey, we'd like to give you some money. You don't have to fill out any forms. You aren't competing with anyone else for it. We'd just like to offer you job security for another twelve months."
Seriously. What. The. Fuck.
Granted, I've worked my ass off for the last 18 months, and we've done really excellent work. I'm not surprised that we got additional funding at all. What I am surprised about is we didn't even have to ask.
This is blowing my mind. How is it that all of these good things are happening to me, and I'm not even having to ask for them? They are just happening. Without my help. Without my pleading. Without my die-hard determination to get what I want.
I keep waiting for the shoe to drop. Surely things can't be this good. I'd grown so accustomed to things being shitty that this sudden turnaround seems way too good to be true. After I said this to my boss several times today, she said, "You've got to stop saying that." And I realized, it was just the fear talking.
Maybe things really can be this good, at least for awhile.
From a Distance
"I know we've only known each other four weeks and three days, but to me it seems like nine weeks and five days. The first day seemed like a week and the second day seemed like five days. And the third day seemed like a week again and the fourth day seemed like eight days. And the fifth day you went to see your mother and that seemed just like a day, and then you came back and later on the sixth day, in the evening, when we saw each other, that started seeming like two days, so in the evening it seemed like two days spilling over into the next day and that started seeming like four days, so at the end of the sixth day on into the seventh day, it seemed like a total of five days. And the sixth day seemed like a week and a half. I have it written down, but I can show it to you tomorrow if you want to see it. "
Hopefully you recognize the absurdity above as a quote from the 1979 Steve Martin classic The Jerk. It's become a frequent reference for Carolina Man and me. First, in a silly way, it encapsulates the feeling of having known each other longer much longer than we have in actuality. Second, it pokes fun at the anguish we feel in being apart, no matter how relatively short the time. It's tough for me even to consider this a real long-distance relationship when he's just a four-hour drive away, and we've already managed to see each other twice since our first weekend together in Ohio (and I'll be going back to North Carolina on Thursday night!) In the past I've done the long-distance thing over continents and time zones, but this feels different. I can't imagine getting used to being apart, nor do I want to get to that place.
Even with Skype and texting and email and cell phones, nothing comes close to being with someone in person. So much is lost when there's physical space separating you. Carolina Man brings up this distant feeling every now and then, and there's sadness that comes with it for both of us. That's especially true on a day like today, when he's having a lazy Sunday and I'm stuck in a tiny town in Ohio for work with nothing on my agenda today except perhaps a trip to the drugstore, only to alleviate some of the boredom. I think, "Why can't we just be together?" It feels like torture.
But it's almost a sweet torture, both the agonizing longing for him and the ecstatic feeling of relief when I do see him again. I can hardly remember my life before him now, what it was like for something or someone else to be filling up all the spaces he holds in my mind and heart. I love that I'm still amazed at what's happening, that we haven't yet settled into daily life with one another. I love that he's the first thought I have when I wake up and the last thought I have as I fall asleep. And I will continue to count the days until I see my love again.
Even with Skype and texting and email and cell phones, nothing comes close to being with someone in person. So much is lost when there's physical space separating you. Carolina Man brings up this distant feeling every now and then, and there's sadness that comes with it for both of us. That's especially true on a day like today, when he's having a lazy Sunday and I'm stuck in a tiny town in Ohio for work with nothing on my agenda today except perhaps a trip to the drugstore, only to alleviate some of the boredom. I think, "Why can't we just be together?" It feels like torture.
But it's almost a sweet torture, both the agonizing longing for him and the ecstatic feeling of relief when I do see him again. I can hardly remember my life before him now, what it was like for something or someone else to be filling up all the spaces he holds in my mind and heart. I love that I'm still amazed at what's happening, that we haven't yet settled into daily life with one another. I love that he's the first thought I have when I wake up and the last thought I have as I fall asleep. And I will continue to count the days until I see my love again.
Reflecting Back, Visioning the Future
I wrote the following on March 25, 2010, just a few days after SCL and I broke up. I sealed the seven pages of journaling into an envelope and dated it March 25, 2011. I read it a few months ago and then didn't think about it again. But when I was with Carolina Man this week, something he said reminded me of this passage. I shared it with him last night and I want to share part of it with you now.
When I'm honest with myself, I realize that the reason I could not even picture SCL proposing to me was not because I was so excited about all of it. It wasn't jitters or other fun feelings of anticipation. It was that deep down I didn't believe he would actually do it. I held it up as this blessed moment when he finally, finally, FINALLY would show me love in a truly selfless way. Wow. When I write that out, I realize how truly fucked up that was.
I can't control what others think, how they love or don't love, if and when they decide to enter or exit my life. But I can work to turn the love I so easily give outwardly toward myself. I can show myself love, care for myself, be satisfied with myself. I will have to learn to do this, but I am able to learn it and I desire to learn it. I want to feel and know that I am a complete person, truly loved and valued, and deserving of nothing less than being truly loved by others.
On the subway I was daydreaming about how somewhere in the world, there's a man with a broken heart, a man who was ready to give his heart but not to the right woman, who is hurting just like me, believing he'd just lost his one opportunity for love. And I dream that he's figuring all this out, learning to move forward, growing into himself, preparing for a time when he'll be ready to love again. We'll meet, we'll flirt, we'll feel all those feeling of spark and passion and new love. We'll realize that we can love again and we'll learn to allow ourselves to do just that. We'll be open, honest, and communicate. We'll eventually find ourselves on the same page. We'll want, but not need, one another. And we'll begin to understand it better--the past, the heartache, the pain, the difficulty. It'll make sense in a new way.I didn't know anything about Carolina Man at the time. It wouldn't be until August 24, 2010 that I'd even hear about him. And it wasn't until December 4, 2010 that we met. And it wasn't until June 26, 2011 that we kissed the first time. But deep down, I felt that when the time was right, I'd meet the man I imagined in my mind. And I believe with all my heart that he's it.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)