Category Archives: Step 4

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A Post a Day to Keep the Love Addiction Away

With New Year’s on the foreseeable horizon, I’ve been thinking a lot about what my resolution will be for 2011. In many ways, I feel like this blog is one giant promise to myself to…well, love myself endlessly. If that isn’t a resolution, I’m not quite sure what is.

However, in years past, I’ve resolved to not go on a date for three months (so I stop freaking out about being single), take a cooking class, spend more time in prayer, or of course, the old classic of to lose weight. I wouldn’t say I’ve ever had a weight-problem, but my figure has definitely changed over the years and for the first time, I can honestly say I’m very happy with how I look.

Part of the reason why picking “dropping 10 pounds by March!” is not only a popular resolution, but also a prescription for failure is due to the fact that dieting isn’t really what makes a person healthy. As the all adage says, you really must change your lifestyle and your eating/exercising habits permanently to see consistent and worthwhile results. You can’t just cut out sweets and carbs until you see a little fat slide away – or you’ll just watch it all sneak back up on you faster than it left.

I think the same goes with my love addiction and journey to self-love. Furthermore – I think it is the hardest part to accept.

I’ve had a few close friends and some readers ask me a few simple questions: “Well, what happens to the 12-steps and to the posts if you do get a boyfriend? What if you meet Mr. Perfect-for-You before you complete everything?”

Well, that’s quite the question, isn’t it?

I can’t technically write a blog about the experience of learning to love being single and love myself sans a man, if I am in fact, falling in love, right? If I become part of a “we” instead of just a “me”. If I am not struggling with wondering if any dude on this planet will ever find me irresistible and irreplaceable because I have someone whispering those anything-but-nothings in my ear every night. If Mr. Unavailable suddenly becomes Mr. Available, or I happen to stumble across or be swept away by Mr. Princey-Poo.

But something I was very specific about when I started this blog and still hold true to three months after writing a daily post is that I’m making no rules for myself. I am not limiting dating, nor am I putting a complete stop to negative thinking. I am not giving myself a deadline for when this blog ends or when I complete all of the steps. I’m not against meeting the right guy or being in a relationship – but my attitude, or should I say, my dating lifestyle – has to shift. Part of the reason I didn’t place restrictions is the result of realizing single isn’t a stage, it isn’t just something we “get through” – but a part of our lives that’s necessary for growth and for strength. Being single doesn’t stop your life, it progresses it. So why put anything else, even love, on pause, or shift your life completely, just because you’re a solo lady? Instead – why not just change yourself?

If I’m going to ween myself off obsessive thinking, worrying about being single for the rest of my Earthly existence, and putting myself down – I have to literally change who I am a bit. These habits have grown into dirty little pests and to rid them of my daily life requires me to resolve to be a new person and be a better woman. The reason I decided to solve these issues is not due to a man telling me I needed to or to beef up my resume or make myself more alluring to the opposite sex.

I simply did it because I had to for my own sanity and to progress myself as an individual. And in many ways, this journey is like losing weight – I have to shed the reoccurring beliefs and languague I was using that caused me pain. And to do this, I can’t just go on a ” dating diet” for a year or six months or four years until I find my husband-to-be. Instead, I have to make trusting positive reinforcements and engaging in an empowering attitude towards embracing myself for everything I am and everything I’m not – a normal routine.

Even when the day comes when I exchange vows with someone, I still want to be in a place of self-security. I still want to have strength and confidence in myself without someone else validating or reassuring me. I still want to speak to myself with words that are loving and promising, instead of self-defeating. I still want to be my greatest fan and my best friend. While the 12-steps will ultimately come to an end, the journey to self-love is a lifelong adventure that I will continue to trek through – even after marriage, babies, menopause, and retirement.

So, what if I do get a boyfriend? Would a boyfriend break my progressing healthy self-image? Would it ruin my self-proscribed: a post-a-day that keeps my love addiction away, medicine? I don’t have a prospect in mind currently, but if he happens to cross my path or lock eyes with me on the train, I won’t look away. I also won’t pursue. Because the focus isn’t on him or getting to a place in loving myself so I can finally meet whoever this dream-man is. He isn’t the prize at the end of the game or the victory to be won through all of this hard work. He isn’t the pot of gold at the edge of the rainbow or the breeze that follows a good thunderstorm.

No, the beauty of the journey isn’t in it one day stopping or meeting my “goal love weight”.  It is rather in the fact that it really…never ends. Because love for myself doesn’t cease when I start loving someone else. It actually, just grows more.

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A Man of His Word

As a journalist, it’s my responsibility to get under people’s skin. This doesn’t always mean in a negative way, but to get a story or to get the best angle – sometimes you have to ask a lot of questions. Even more so, you are drawn by this idea that there is something more than what people initially reveal and it is your job to evoke those concealed emotions out of them.

And usually, I do a pretty good job at interviewing  by fiercely, yet kindly, easing out information that’s below the surface. Because of this so-called “talent” – I’ve been pretty successful in my career, but I’ve allowed this skill to throw me off course in relationships.

Why? I don’t really take a man at his word.

He may say something, but as far as I’m concerned – it goes in one ear and right out the other. Maybe even more destructive, I tend to hear what I want to hear and heed red flags until I have to pull out my white one and surrender. Somehow, even if a guy has laid it all out there for me – the good or the bad or the very ugly – I’ve questioned it. I’ve debated it. I’ve wrapped it around my head three or four times and drawn my own conclusions instead of taking what he’s promised or said at face value.

As I’ve described, I’ve met Mr. Faithful, Mr. Fling, Mr. Fire, Mr. Idea, and Mr. Unavailable over the course of my dating history. Now, I’ll admit that men (and women, too) sometimes promise things or relationships or feelings or promises they can’t fully deliver. I think at our core, we all want to do right by those who make an impression on us, romantically or not, and I highly doubt anyone goes into a committment thinking “I’ll break this one day, even though I said I wouldn’t!” If you do, I suggest you stop reading my words and seek serious help, alrighty?

Nevertheless, if I go back to these dudes, all of which have left and continue to leave distinctive impressions on my soul, and think about the words they’ve used to describe themselves or their intentions – I may have saved myself a little heartbreak if I would have listened. If a guy tells you right at the start that he isn’t over his ex-girlfriend and isn’t ready for a relationship: that’s what he means. This isn’t a line he uses to pick up the ladies or a vulnerable side he pulls out to distract you from seeing that he truly, honestly, just wants to meet a woman who will lick and heal his wounds. He doesn’t want this woman and this woman isn’t you, so why put yourself in a situation where you seek a man who is unattainable?

Or if a guy tells you he wants to have sex – or rather doesn’t say it, but only calls you at midnight when he’s had a few too many – that doesn’t mean he magically falls in love with you after an orgasm. It means he came (pun intended) to see you for a specific reason and goal. And sadly, if a guy says he worries about breaking your heart or hurting you, he does actually have a soul, but it’d be in your best interest to walk away before his premonition comes true.

I won’t say there are not exceptions to these ideas, but I’ve learned, often the hard way, that sometimes you can learn so much more about the person you’re falling for if you catch yourself and start really listening, instead of projecting. Because anyone can put on Mr. Right’s cape and ride in on a horse with a bouquet full of tulips,  if we rent the stallion from a stable, hand the dude $30, and give him a sword and a script. If you project an idea on a man, instead of seeing him for his true-blue colors, all you will see is your reflection.

Now, as I’ve said trust is one of the most important building bricks in the foundation of a great relationship, especially the one you have with yourself but also with a partner. And as far as love is concerned, if you don’t truly listen to what someone is telling you, you never can develop that security or promise that’s required for an everlasting union.

And step one to gaining trust both in myself and in the men that I date is opening my ears and closing my mouth and imagination.

It also means that when a great man with a kind heart comes along, I must be able to turn the same token around and realize that if a man says he’ll be there – I have to have enough courage to take him at that word, too. If I forever let the bruises of the yesterday cause harm to the love I’ll grow today, then there is no opportunity for prosperity tomorrow. Just because one man lied, or I decided to construe my own meaning out of his words, doesn’t mean they are all one-in-the-same.

Possibly though, even more strenuous than accepting a man who will never love you in the way imagined or learning to gradually open up your heart that’s been shattered more times than you’d like to count – is also learning to listen to yourself. To the words you put out into the world and into the ears of men whom you’d like to accept as your boyfriend on Facebook (even with the new annoying interface). Because if you accept a man at his word, in return he will accept you at yours – thus making each and every single thing you say, so vital. If something isn’t okay or isn’t fine or doesn’t feel good or makes you uneasy or feels like settling, you have to stand up and say: why, yes, I frankly do give a damn about that.

If I want to meet a man who I can trust to say what he means when he says it and be a man of good word and honesty – I have to be a woman of the same principle. Because what is the use of language if it isn’t dependable? If we couldn’t trust in what we read and  in exchanged sentiments from page-to-page in the magazines or pillow-to-pillow with our lover, would we ever get anywhere?

That is, anywhere other than subjected to below-the-fold and in the corner, or crying in the shower (where we need not worry about mascara), wondering: “why didn’t I just listen to him from the get-go?“

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When Venus and Mars Meet on Earth

I’ve tried not to make general assumptions about men or about women in this blog.

I feel like each of the sexes deserve as much credit as the other one and are about as different as North Carolina and New York City. Men deal with issues that women will never be able to wrap their head around and vice versa. I’m under the belief that unless you have sincerely walked a mile in someone’s shoes (where it be high heels or dress shoes or no shoes at all) – you can’t really say with certainty how it feels to be someone else. While there is a sincere contrast, and sometimes I’d like to pull my hair out and bang my head up against a wall to understand what a man is thinking – men are welcome in my clubhouse, and though some have cooties, most are at least tolerable to be around.

However, even though I recognize there are innate distinctions between the dudes and dudettes – I will admit that going into this journey, I was under the impression that it was only women who dealt with my self-proscribed love addiction.

I was convinced it was a woman’s issue to freak out not only about the duration between text messages, the unanswered and unreturned phone calls or dating a man who seems to be allergic to commitment- but also get upset and worried about the fact that, we are, in fact, freaking out. Because women aren’t really supposed to lose their cool – or at least in front of the guy they are dating or hoping to be exclusive with, right?

Furthermore, I was also under the assumption that it was just women who fed or played into the nagging voices in our head that constantly ask annoying and self-defeating questions like “Is he really out there?” “Am I wasting my time with Mr. Not Right?” “Should I go back to him, even though I don’t really think he is it?” or “Are all men really just jackasses?”

And while I’ve known and dated men who want families and marriages one day, I was even more confident in my belief that women are the ones who spend time analyzing until-death-do-we-part, and men spend time mourning until-random-sex-do-we-part.

I realize these notions are sexist and shed a very unpleasant light upon all of the men of the world, even when I know in my heart that there are great guys out there who often get overlooked. But recently, as he usually does, Mr. Unavailable opened my eyes to a side of the male population that I didn’t know existed.

We were walking about in the city, laughing and sharing stories, when we got on the topic of love. To be honest, it is something we talk about frequently since the whole foundation of our friendship is the result of diviluging some personal and recent heartbreaks with one another. Nevertheless, on this particular day he discussed a guy in his hometown who was once a successful banker in the city, then moved back to Queens, and does something-or-another for the chamber of something. He is also 40-plus, never been married, and childless.

After Mr. Unavailable described this man to me, he quickly shot back with “I just hope I’m not that guy one day.”

In the conversation itself, I of course eased his fears and promised him he would never end up without a Mrs. or a bulky resume and a house full of kids. While I was sincere when I said that to him, in the back of my mind, I was recovering from a state of shock. Here is this guy who is absolutely wonderful in so many ways with an incredibly bright future ahead of him, and he’s worried about finding a lady to love, and to love him in return?

Is he out of his mind? There is no reason under the sun that I would ever picture this man alone in the long-run. Sure he’s banged up and bruised and moving forward – but no one stays knocked down forever. And especially not someone who has not only drive and talent, but a kind soul and a positive aura. Not to mention, good looks and an independent, adventurous spirit.

As he’s talking about something else and I’m effectively getting lost in my own thoughts, I realize – wait, a second: didn’t I just describe myself? I have all of those alluring qualities and things going for me. I’m not a hopeless case, nor am I the only one, apparently, who has doubts and intense fears about happily ever after. (Though I’m still question what exactly is the before, the after refers to, but I digress)

Sure, I’ve heard all of my girlfriends at different stages in their lives and even now, share all of their apprehensions about love, but there was something different (and rather refreshing) about hearing it from a man. Because while Mr. Unavailable is a special person, I know there have to be other guys in this world and in this city who share some of his same anxieties and perplexities. And if that’s the case, maybe there is some hope, right?

Man or woman, gay or straight, married or single – we all just want love. And we want to never question if we’ll find it in this vast universe and endless sea of fish to bait, but just have the confidence that when the time and person is just-right, it will all fall into place.

So maybe, instead of placing labels on the emotional side of a relationship that dictate what’s a man’s responsibility and what’s a woman’s to lose sleep over, why don’t we come from the same understanding? Maybe women are from Venus and men are from Mars, but can’t we just meet on Earth and give each other love?

 

 

 

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All Because of Me

It determines if a response is “Yes” or “No”. It is why people place their personal investments into stocks and shares they have no idea if they will ever make their money back or not. It is responsible for both marriages and divorces, depending on when it comes and when it leaves. It is why lovers love, strangers shy from other strangers, and people of every religion rely on something they’ve never touched or seen. In not only it’s most fragile and purest form, but also in it’s strongest and utterly dependable articulation, it has enough power to bring the most independent of women and the most profoundly confident of men…to their knees.

It is trust. And simply put, it is what makes the world spin and crash on its axis.

So much of life is dependent on the notion of trust and whether or not it is broken or in tact. If we’re confident in whatever needs our faith, then all is well with our lives, but if a crack disrupts that rhythm of our trusting nature – nothing short of hell breaks loose. This isn’t just true for relationships, but in friendships, families, traveling, finances, religious affiliations, and so much more.

In my history, my trust in others has been questionable to say the least, and it has been shattered more times than I’d like to count. I have felt and believed in a love that I thought would never leave…and then watched it walk away without any consideration to stop. I have had faith that a job I thought was so perfect for me would certainaly call me back…and then heard the words “we went with someone else” on the other line. I have thought that the man I trusted more than any other in his species would always be there for me…and then I’ve watched him crumble under forces larger than I could put into words.

But of all the disappointments I’ve experienced, the most difficult and the most painful of shortcomings have resulted from losing trust in myself. Because when you turn your back on yourself, you have no one to blame, no one to lose faith in, no one to support you, and no one to get angry at, other than your own reflection in the mirror. That feeling of failure and that degree of back-stabbing is something that seems near-impossible to repair and requires a high degree of prayer to change feeling intensely numb to even barely breathing again.

If I think about it, though, all of our most important recoveries and decisions, frankly, are about living on a prayer.

And praying is something I’ve done quite a lot in my lifetime. Regardless if it’s about the man that I’m falling so hard for and I beg the universe to protect my heart, or if I’m stepping on the plane, alone, to a place I adore without a job, without a place to live, or any real plan. Or about beating my best mile time or about getting home safely when Manhattan’s streets became darker and dangerous. Or just for a peace of mind, a miracle to heal my pride, and my step to get a little more kick in it.

But more than anything, I pray for the ability to rely not on someone or something or the heaven’s divinity and endless guiding light -but to trust in myself. Because with trust comes love, and if I’m attempting to reach self-love and faith in my capabilities and life, I must depend on who I am and what I can do. Without trusting myself, above all other people and things, how can I expect to commit to someone in the long term? If I can’t say “I believe” to myself, I can’t say “I do” to my Mr. Right.

Maybe it isn’t necessarily this journey or this blog, but possibly just living in New York that’s made me so much more independent and reliant on myself as an individual. Sure, there are days when I’ve lost more than I’ve gained, given more than I’ve taken back, and loved more than I’ll ever be loved in return – but there is still nothing, to date, that compares to the sound of my heels clicking against the pavement when I walk home each night.

When I leave the office that pays me enough to stay, finish writing a blog that’ll brighten someone’s day across the world, open a door for a person I’ll never see again, and unlock the entrance to the home I’ve made for myself – I feel that faith grow a little stronger. And though I will stomp all over it at times and sometimes doubt my talent and gumption – all I have to do to get a little strength is open my eyes and look at what I have. Because the fact that I live in this city, can call myself an actual writer, can smile at the life I’ve created is all due to a single belief.

And that belief is just in myself. All of this, all that I have, all that I love, all that I’ve done is not due to a man, due to an address, due to a job title, but every single bit of it is all because of me.

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A Different Kind of a Diamond

As I’ve said before, I’ve been a little freaked out by this whole idea of marriage.

I won’t claim that I’m unattracted to or uninterested in the concept (because that would be a blanant lie), but I will say that at this exact point in my life and with what I’m doing – I find it incredibly difficult to believe I’m anywhere close to exchanging vows.

That being said and admitted with brutal honesty and a level-headed mindset…I have, in many instances in the past, grown insanely jealous of my friends who are engaged or newly married. Even though I’m not dating someone or in love with a man or really pursuing a diamond on my left hand – there is this inevitable sigh that’s the result of seeing a new person on Facebook or in my group of friends who is on the edge of promising forever.

As I’ve said before, I will spend hours beyond hours stalking engagement and marriage photos, blogs, and websites. Perhaps even a tad more creepy, I read the “Wedding & Celebrations” section of The NYTimes as much as I read the media, travel, and food & dining columns. Because I’m attempting to be as straightforward as possible, I will hang my head and also admit that I’ve browsed wedding dresses, rings, venues, and a wedding gift for my still-to-be-determined groom.

Possibly due to this unhealthy and slightly ridiculous obsession with weddings and lifelong true love – something inside of me grows to a scary level of envy when I see women, my age (or younger or older, really), walking down the aisle or smooching their fiancée. Logically, I know I don’t want to be with my husband right now, but emotionally, a tiny (or rather large) piece of me fears he doesn’t exist.

And that anxiety always won over my happiness for other people… Until recently when one of my dearest friends, N (and a frequent editor of this blog), almost got engaged. Okay – so she will be getting a very beautiful ring that she won from a contest soon and will be proposed to shortly- we just don’t know when. We only know this lovely ring belongs to her.

When I found out about her grand prize, I was at work, elbows-deep into editing articles to go to press next week, and to distract myself I clicked on Facebook and saw the announcement. As soon as I read her and her almost-husband’s names, my heart swelled.

But not in a psycho-jealous way. Rather, in a “Oh my God! I’m so excited!!!! Wow!! She’s getting engaged! Oh!!!” I immediately got up from my desk and called her, and when she didn’t pick up, I sent her a slew of text messages and Gchat messages appropriately freaking out. In fact, as I shared in her excitement and peered through the many congratulatory comments she received, tears welled up in my eyes.

It occured to me, as I shouted in my office “Remember that girl you voted for? She won!” and everyone came rushing over to see – that I was geuniely happy for N.

I wasn’t envious of her wonderful prize or the fact that she truly has found someone who is made for her. I wasn’t upset that she’ s floating on a cloud she’s needed to rest on. I wasn’t sad that the lovey-dovey attention wasn’t on me and I wasn’t secretly cursing her for being so damn lucky.

No, I was actually planning what I would say at a speech at her wedding or what I could get her and her beau that would be sentimental and pay tribute to the love they share. While the fact that this happened to be the first time I felt this way towards a newly-almost-engaged friend may make me seem selfish, it was so refreshing to finally release that begrudging.

And for once, just relish in someone else’s magical alignment with the stars in terms of love. In someone else’s absolute joy in showing the whole world the wonders of a person they’ve decided to walk this life with. To celebrate the sweet divinity of two people deciding to take one of the biggest leaps of faith they could ever embark on.

I’m not under the illusion that marriage solves everything or that my so-called Mr. Perfect will erase every insecurity and issue I’ve ever dealt with – but I do want to meet him one day. And if I have already shaken hands or shared a kiss with him, I’d sure like to revisit those instances.

But for now – I’m A-okay helping N plan this beautiful wedding she will have and focus only on her and the day that she will shine more than she normally does. Because even if I’m curing my own love addiction and learning to love myself, there is no harm in loving a cherished friend and commending the love…and the luck, that found her.

After all, being jealous of N is not only unfair to her and untrue to our friendship, but also – what’s the point in being intimidated about a diamond that’s not meant for me? Isn’t my friend with all her perfect imperfections, brilliance, and amazing ability to crack even the hardest of cynics with her charm – a rare gem in herself? Maybe she (and all of my lovely ladies) are the different kind of diamonds that I’m meant to take with me today, and even after a rock lands on my finger.

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