Category Archives: Uncategorized

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Ya Gotta Stop Pushin’

In one of my favorite movies of all time, Mean Girls, Cady (Lindsay Lohan) infamously calls her teacher, Ms. Norbury (Tina Fey) a “pusher.” We all know she was referring to how she encouraged her in math class, but of course, it was construed into some sort of drug addiction –just like any other twist in any other teen movie.

All humor aside, I believe I’m a pusher. Not in math (ha –one class in college and I was done!) and definitely not with drugs, but with a little thing called l-o-v-e.

Every man I’ve ever dated, been in a relationship with, or been friends with has told me how much I need to relax. I can hear each of their voices, both in and out of the bedroom, saying “You worry too much, Linds. Just relax.”

I’m not quite sure I know how to do that.

I push at everything I do. My career, my writing, my looks, my fitness, my place in the world –my life is about pushing forward. And I’m the same way with relationships –hence this program and blog.

So how do I push in love? Let’s just give a few examples:

Scenario: Meet a Cute Boy, Exchange Cards

Love Pusher Actions: Thoroughly find any information I can about him using Facebook, Google, LinkedIn, Twitter, blogs, etc. Search for additional pictures. Try to determine his birthday for my mom to look up (I know she’ll ask). Figure out when is exactly three days after we met so if he doesn’t contact, I can contact him. Attempt to remember something flirty/funny we talked about when we met to bring up cleverly if I have to contact him first.Nervously look at my phone until I get frustrated and make myself not look at my phone for an allotted amount of time. Same goes with Gmail.

Scenario: Met a Cute Boy, Exchange Cards, He Contacts Me

Love Pusher Actions: Start by casually responding and spacing out the amount between text messages or replies so I “appear busy”. Have casual conversation for about a day, then I get nervous and I want to set up an actual time to meet, so I drop hints. For example, “We should get a drink” or “Do you like coffee?” or “Man, I’m hungry!” or “Bored tonight, what are you up to?” and include winky faces when appropriate until he bites. If he doesn’t, I just get to the point and ask him myself.

Scenario: Met a Cute Boy, Exchange Cards, He Contacts Me, We Go Out

Love Pusher Actions: Date starts off well with witty chit-chat and I pick a drink or meal I could afford to pay for myself if he doesn’t happen to offer to pay. Conversation continues and if there’s a lapse in the banter, I feel the need to keep it going. This is when I pull out “21 Questions” or start integrating them. Yep, I bring out the journalist on a first date. I’ve ever played the “Truth or Dare” card, no lies. My mental check-list of qualities I look for in a mind needs to be completed, right?

Scenario: Getting Ready to Go Somewhere (Event, Bar, Party, Running)

Love Pusher Actions: I secretly plan out every possibility there could be for me to run into someone. That guy looked at me from across the subway car,should I get up and move seats? I’m going to this super-candle-lit bar that’s located on 33 West Broadway, that’s my favorite number, so is that a sign? I dreamt about a guy named Brian, and his name is Brian, now that’s a sign, right? I’m attending this business event tonight, is there a possibility I could meet The One? Isn’t that what the psychic said? Could this be the night? The day? The afternoon?

Ehhh.

These are probably not the most becoming qualities, but they are incredibly and sadly true. Maybe I’m a pusher because I like to be in control or because I’d rather know what’s going on and prepare myself for whatever can happen. I guess I’m not a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants lady like I always hoped I’d grow up to be.

Step 3 is about surrendering all of these actions and thoughts to a higher power for it to remove for me. And I’m guessing (if I’m inferring correctly, here)–part of surrendering is allowing whatever is supposed to happen, happen. And it’s letting go. And it’s not being a control freak. And it’s definitely not being a love pusher.

They (as in all of those ridiculously annoying people in love/married/with baby) say the best things and “The Best Thing” happens when you’re not looking for it. When you’re eyes are open but not focused, your heart is ready, but not anticipant.

So surrendering gives all of my power away and makes me have to be chased instead of chasing or planning someone else in my life. Surrenderingmeans I have no clue of what’s going to happen –but as a pusher, I don’t know either.

Instead of pushing and fighting and organizing and strategizing…I’m just supposed to go with it.

Yep. Better get to it. What’s my plan for not planning?

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Naked, Nosy, and Never Been Happier

I’ll admit I’m a jealous person.

Obviously, since I admitted to stalking Facebook profiles for wedding, engagement, and baby pictures, I have a little bit of envy in me. I can’t even being to estimate how many times in a day I desire something I don’t have –when I see a trendy couple walking, leaning on each other in the subway, a man kissing his pregnant wife’s forehead in the rain.

Most of the time, especially now, I’m able to deal with these resentful feelings –soothe myself, close my eyes, and say a little prayer for things I hope will come.

Imagine my delight yesterday when I found myself not jealous, not envious, not sickened, not insanely mad –but happy about being single.

Tonight my company is hosting the NYC Small Business Awards and because I’m a procrastinator (not usually, but lately), I waited until yesterday to buy my cocktail dress for it. With a lovely birthday card from my friend A, I set out to Forever 21 on my lunch hour yesterday to find something stunning. I figure, it’s a great excuse to buy a new dress considering I’ll be around 500 business owners –right?

I scour the three floors of wonder that is Forever 21 and with an armful of dresses and make my way to the fitting room. As I’m struggling to figure out what my size is because my new workout regimen has made me somewhere between a small and medium –I overhear a conversation.

Its two girls in the rooms next to me laughing, chit-chatting, and they seem to be catching each other up on their lives. At this point, I’m struggling to get a belted blue dress over my head that’s in two pieces and incredibly difficult to maneuver, and sighing because I’m a tad bit bloated, and PMS is breaking me out something fierce. As I’m starting to get frustrated, I hear one of the girls say, “Oh my God! I loooooveee this dress. Do you love this dress?” to which the other replies, “Oh girl, you look so sexy. Chris is totally going to love that. He’ll rip it off of you.”

I giggle to myself and think about my friends who would say that to me (practically all of them) and I take it that Chris is this gal’s boyfriend. She laughs and then her ringtone “California Girls” by Katy Perry goes off and she says, “Oh my God! He must have read our minds, he’s calling!” I’m still weeding through my outfits as she greets Chris with “Hey baby!” and continues with her conversation.

I stop listening for a while until I hear “Baby, I thought we talked about this…*sigh*….but I said this weekend that…well, I know….but we talked about this…Chris!…will you just let me talk?…you’re being ridiculous….I told you she was going to be in town.”

Of course, because I’m being incredibly nosy, I stop trying on clothes, stand there in my panties and bra and over-the-knee boots and just listen.

“Chris, she’s in town this week only. We can hang out this weekend, can’t we?…Why do you  need to see me?…I thought we had this conversation…No! I’m not breaking my plans…No, I’m not…what was that? Say that again….Really?…You’re doing that? For me?…Okay. Aw, Chris. Let me talk to her…yeah…I love you too…I know baby…yeah, I know baby…I’m sure she won’t mind…No she won’t mind…Yes, I’m sure…I love you too. Bye baby.”

Now, I’ve decided that she gave into his pleas to see him, even though, I’m guessing, her friend is visiting from out of town.

“Hey, do you mind if I see Chris a little bit tonight? I mean, I’ll just go over to his apartment and you can stay in my apartment and check your email or watch TV or whatever. He just really needs to see me. You know how he is –just needs me. It’s like that when you’re in love.”

I couldn’t see her friend’s expression, but if it were me, I would have rolled my eyes, dropped my jaw, and called her out on giving-in even though I was visiting and was promised girl’s-only time.

“Yeah, I mean I guess that’s alright. But weren’t we going to go to the village tonight? I’ve never been there before, ya know,” her friend replied.

“God, I know. The village isn’t that great anyways. He’s just so persistent. You’ll understand one day when you meet The One.”

Now, I’m fully dressed and fully pissed at this girl for being so rude to her friend. It took every fiber in my being to not talk to the other friend and say, “It’s okay to be single! It’s empowering to be single! You’d rather be single than have a lame boyfriend who begs you to break plans with your friends because they ‘need’ you! How pathetic is that? You want to go get coffee with me in the village tonight and we’ll bitch?”

Not everyone who is in a relationship becomes obsessed with and powerless to their boyfriends. I’ve definitely been in relationships that have taken over my entire life and I know how easy it is to get wrapped up when you’re head over Jimmy Choos. I get it, I really do. But regardless –it’s never right to do that to a friend. Especially an out-of-town friend.

The best part of this story, though? I wasn’t jealous of her relationship and I wasn’t envious of any relationships the rest of the day. From the outside –on the train, streets, and cafes –all relationships look beautiful and loving. But when you get down to it –they are messy and uneven and sometimes involve pleading annoying men.

As I walked out of Forever 21, I thought: “Thank God I’m not in a relationship like that. If I was with a clingy guy I’d have to cut him lose. Already did that. Been there, done that. Wow, I’m so glad I’m single. I can do literally anything I want today, this week or this weekend. I think I’m going to buy some shoes. Or maybe that rain jacket…ohhh he was cute! Who is that? Maybe he’ll be at the Small Business Awards!”

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Sex(less) & the City

Sometimes I wish I was a skank.

Pardon my language –but sometimes, I think it’d be easier. If I could just jump from one bed to the other, not feeling (or at least pretending not to) anything, having incredible orgasms, and not worrying if they would call or if it would turn into love –I think I’d be a lot happier.

If I could be just nonchalant and easy-going, enjoy great sex just as much as I enjoy great wine and travel –maybe I’d be a little more “cool” or one of those elusive girls that men are always drawn to. But then, again I wouldn’t care if men were drawn to me –because I’d be mysterious and aloof.

While I tend to be forward-thinking about many things, sex isn’t one of them. Like love (big surprise here, huh?), I tend to find sex to be this very intimate, personal, and powerful thing that should only be shared with two people who sincerely care about each other. I think it can be very stress-relieving and dirty-passionate too, but I don’t feel comfortable letting my inhibitions and my panties go –unless I’m committed and in love with someone.

This kind of mentality, in my opinion, makes me classy (or a prude) –but at the same time, it can make for some pretty lengthy kiss-less and sex-less periods. I plan on the payoff one day being well worth it –but sometimes it just flat out sucks.

Even though I know how serious I take intimacy, and even though I’m doing the 12-steps, I decided that part of trying not to be a love addict is taking the pressure off things. If I want to make out with some cute guy or if I want him to run his hand down my back (or thigh, or both?) –I should be able to do that without freaking out.

Right? Ehhh…

Mr. Unavailable and I had a little too much red wine on Friday night and we took our platonic friendship to a different level that involved some kissing, some holding, and some regrettable thoughts the next day…on my part anyways. So of course, like any good love addict, I then spent the rest of the weekend obsessing about what in the world I had done.

No, I didn’t have sex. No, I didn’t sleep around. No, I didn’t fall in love or fall in hate. No, I just acted on the naturally burning and ever-evolving desire inside of me. I was longing to be cuddled, to feel sexy, to feel the weight of a man pressed up against me, and to feel secure –so I took an opportunity.

The problem is –no matter how much recovery I go through or steps I take –kissing and making out and being physical –will always mean something to me. And while I don’t think this is a bad thing, I also don’t think it makes me very good at being “single.” I mean, even Julia Roberts couldn’t handle it in “Pretty Woman” – she ended up falling in love and packing up her sexy hooker boots (they’re coming back in style, yay!) and letting her guard down with Richard Gere –and we never blamed her once for it.

My friend L says I should be using this time in my life to “have fun.” In her terms and before she was in her relationship, this meant random drunken kisses and sometimes even sexual partners. I think my friend is beautiful and wonderful –and so much freer than I am. If she would have made out with Mr. Unavailable, it wouldn’t have mattered much to her the next few days…but for me, it consumed my weekend.

And it hurt me. He didn’t hurt me. The situation didn’t hurt me. The kissing and the fire didn’t hurt me. The friendship didn’t hurt me.

The thoughts hurt me.

The punishing myself for “letting go” or “trying something new.” The pit in the bottom of my stomach that continued to grow because I know it would never become anything more than just a friends-with-benefits (term I hate, by the way). Even if I didn’t want more, knowing that it wouldn’t be more –hurt. And it hurt that I thought of my actions and the experience the rest of the weekend –during drinks, at dinner, while shopping, while sitting at the laundry mat writing this entry.

So why do I feel guilty? Or is it that I feel rejected? Or betrayed? And if betrayed –by who? By myself? By my morals? I knew what cards were on the table and I willingly made the decision to play the hand I played. There was no poker face, no leading-on, no mystery, no question –we both knew exactly what we were doing and we both said what we expected.

If I had no expectations and wasn’t even certain of my feelings or of what it would mean to me –why does it hurt?

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Second-Hand Flowers

Life is funny sometimes.

Last week, I wrote about how my co-worker, J, was sent flowers to work and the jealousy that spewed out of me because of it (FYI- he was sent flowers 3 days in a row…not kidding. Yeah, I know –my jaw dropped too). At the time, I was so annoyed and sad that someone didn’t send me flowers or that no one was thinking of me or just that…there is no one who is even a possibility in my life right now.

And then this week, I was sent second-hand flowers. Now –I’m not complaining in the least. Flowers are flowers and seeing them sit so elegantly on my desk brings a smile to my face, not to mention they smell incredible.

But –I was the second person to receive them. Mr. Unavailable’s grand gesture didn’t sit well with his ex and so she returned the $200 chocolates and the bouquet of beautiful oriential lilies to him. Even though his heart was aching something awful, he sent me a message that said:

“You know how you told me you believe all that’s meant to be will be? Well I think these are ending up right where they were to be: with someone who appreciates and deserves them.”

Now, don’t get excited –it’s not a love signal or come-on, but more just a sincere and kind way of giving these items to someone who would like them instead of just throwing them away. I’m positive he didn’t want to look at them anymore and I don’t blame him. They arrived in my office, just as they arrived at her doorstep, and my co-workers enjoyed the champagne truffles (as did I) while I placed the lilies in water.

All flowers represent something, and though he gave her lilies because they are her favorite, they actually mean: “very simple and beautiful, the universal symbol of beauty, an expression of decadence, purity and innocent beauty.”

Central theme? Beauty.

Lilies are also often used at funerals, symbolizing the end of one life and the start of a new one –something I think is very fitting to this program. I’m starting over, in a sense, trying to cultivate a new attitude and loving myself for all the beauty I have (inside and out), and going down a new path.

I’m learning to believe in my own beauty and in what I have to offer, and more importantly, I’m starting to trust in the beauty of destiny or fate, as Mr. Unavailable noted. These flowers were not purchased with me in mind, but they ended up with me. By accident? I don’t really think so.

Without pushing or pulling or wondering or pleading or dreaming –flowers ended up my desk, exactly a week-to-the-day I was steaming with envy about someone else receiving flowers. And I’ve been feeling down about my looks lately and these specific flower represents all things beautiful and pure.

Step 2 is about learning to having faith in a higher power that is capable of getting rid of negativity and self-defeating thoughts and actions. That this higher power can bring me peace and sanity…and love of course.

Yesterday, as I was cleaning up around my desk, I noticed that one of the lilies had bloomed. It was so absolutely gorgeous that I touched it to make sure it was real:  It radiated a fragrance that fills up my little space and I swear it is the whitest flower I’ve ever seen. I was so amazed by the simple bloom that I brought the flowers around to my co-workers, E & J to show them what happened overnight.

These 12-steps aren’t going to happen in 24-hours, in a few weeks, or even a few months –but they will happen.

And with this gorgeous, flourishing, and enchanting flower right in front of me –I know there is someone up there guiding me in the process. There is someone who is helping me to come out of my own comfortable bud and routine, and bloom into the person I was meant to be. This intoxicating and brand-new bloom symbolizes me.

It’s just going to take a little shower of self-love and the glowing light of hope. After all, all things grow with love –even if it’s second-hand gestures and self-admiration. Right?

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And Fall is Here…

As I closed the door to my apartment and headed towards the park –a new feeling came over me. The air was crisp and cool, the steps up to my brownstone were covered in leaves, and I pulled my jacket tighter to my body. There was a sense of calmness and yet the feel of the city was warm and inviting.

I then realized that it’s here: the most beautiful time of the year. Fall.

There has always been something about fall that makes me melt. I love everything the season has to offer: pumpkin spice lattes from Starbucks, cute boots and lightweight jackets, the smell of a campfire (well, maybe not this year!), and the ever-changing colors of the trees.

And of course, it’s the season of possibility.

Maybe because my birthday is right around the transition from summer to fall, or because I’m a fashionista like the next New Yorker, but to me –the new year begins with onset of Autumn. With all of the old dying away, all the sweat and lust of the summer fading, and the beauty of change unveiling in nature –how can you not feel like possibility is before you?

In year’s past, Fall also meant the start of school. I absolutely loved going to school, and I always made goals for myself. From making “all A’s” and “getting on honor’s list” to “getting better at doubles in tennis” and “writing more frequently” –I wanted and needed to always push myself.

When I reached college, Fall was always about what cute guy would be in my classes or if I would finally have a boyfriend while at Appalachian. The start of the school year meant a whole new selection of guys to choose from, who I was sure I had never met. And of course, after getting a rockin’ body every summer, I was ready to show off all of my goods and see what looks I got in exchange (yes, I’m admitting that).

But this year, Fall symbolizes something else.

Yes, it’s still about change and beauty and love. But it’s about changing my mindset to focus more on my inner (and outer!) beauty with a more positive attitude towards love. It’s about learning to love myself and to fall in love with who I am and what I have to offer this world.

I won’t lie and say the colder weather doesn’t make me crave a chest to lay my head on, feet to tuck my toes under, and someone to walk hand-in-hand with through the park while drinking coffee. I won’t lie and say it doesn’t bring up ghosts of boyfriends-past and the memories I had with them during this season. I won’t lie and say that seeing pumpkins for sale doesn’t make me want to buy one and have a “flirty carving evening” with an attractive guy.

Of course, I feel all of those things.

But for the first Fall –in a very long time –I’m enjoying going down the block for a cup of Joe on my own, running through the park with only my breath to keep me company, and curling up, alone, with a cup of tea –and all of my dreams of tomorrow tucked away lightly and lovingly…in the back of my mind.

This time, I’m going to fall in love with myself.