Tag Archives: being single

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Settling for a Second Chance

I’ve heard about people who were madly, insanely in love with one another, and then as time passed, they grew apart and discovered that what once connected them, now separated them. Together, they came to this conclusion, and with love and the best wishes for future happiness, they parted ways, attended each other’s weddings, and never had a foul word to say about one another.

These are the people, who when you ask them about their ex-boyfriends or girlfriends, they smile and happily swear they are still very close to each and every single one of them and have no hurt feelings about the way things ended or how they collapsed.

May come as no surprise, but I’m not one of these people. Not in the very least.

My breakups have been messy. Complicated. Painful. Drawn out and involving discussions and several hours getting down to the heart of everything. At times, I’ve been the one left with a million unanswered questions and a mind that just can’t understand why; and then I’ve also been the heart breaker who can’t comply with the pleas to stay in a relationship. In my experience, though not extremely vast, when I fall for someone and my emotions get involved, leaving or being left by that person isn’t an easy task. Though I am at least friendly with a few of my exes and remain in contact with almost all of them, the initial sting…and several months after, were far from cordial.

Strangely enough, if I think about patterns in my past relationships, they have also all come full circle. And more often times than not, I’ve attempted to rekindle a flame or been asked for a second chance.

Most recently, right around Christmas, Mr. Idea came back into the picture. He was putting up his Christmas tree and stumbled across an ornament I gave him when we dated and the memories of that very special time in our partnership came flooding back. He sent me an email, mailed me card, and called me saying how much he missed me, how much he believes in us, and how if given the opportunity, he could be the man that I needed. The man that stood by my side and supported me, could meet my every desire, and fulfill my romantic dreams. He would change, he would do what was required to put the pieces back together and he apologized profusely about all the pain, all the harsh words exchanged, and the tears he made me cry.

Had this happened, say six months ago, I have no doubt in my mind, I would have cried on the phone, invited butterflies back into my tummy, and despite the screaming pleas from my friends and family to run far, far away from him – I would have given him a second chance.

But since Mr. Idea and I broke up – a lot of things have changed for me. I started this journey and this blog, I met someone else, my career progressed, I found my footing in my newfound home of Manhattan, and I stopped letting the fear of being alone rule my life. With other exes in the past, when they would ultimately realize the mistake they made when breaking up with me, I’d always give them the benefit of a doubt and welcome them back in my heart. Somehow, I was afraid if I didn’t give them another opportunity to prove we were meant together, I could make this horrible, ridiculous mistake that could screw up the course of my love life and leave me 45 and single, with three cats, living in the Bronx. Or if I woke up one day a little lonelier than the one before, and knew that the man I left waiting in the dust was still getting coughing over my exhaust, I would reach out to him, regardless if I saw a future or not, just to fill a void in my heart and in my bed.

I don’t think it is always the reason why, but sometimes, people ask for or agree to second chances in relationships because they are simply afraid that nothing better is out there. That this love – or the love they once felt with this person – will never be matched, never compare to what could be waiting in the future. I distinctively remember Mr. Faithful, when we sorta toyed with the idea of getting back together my sophomore year of college, drained and tired of all of our discussions laying on my dorm room bed, saying, “Linds, maybe we just need to accept that this is love. And this is as good as it gets. If we don’t want to be alone, we should just settle for what it is that we have, regardless of how hard it is.”

And his words, those words, were the ones I heard screaming loud and clear in my head when Mr. Idea stated his case for why we deserved another shot. If I’m going to get married one day, if I’m going to fall in love, if I’m going to commit to someone with everything I have and support them in their good times and in their bad – it isn’t going to be someone who it feels like I’m settling for. It is going to be someone who sweeps me off my feet – no matter how much hell I can be in heels.

I won’t say I don’t believe in second chances because sometimes giving a look at what was, can help you realize what you had (or how much you didn’t want what you had) – and also, by having a conversation with a previous lover who you aren’t sure you’re over, can give you that closure everyone needs. When Mr. Unavailable’s ex-lady was so cold about his grand gesture, I felt bad for him (though I enjoyed the chocolates and flowers, her loss!) because to release the what-if monsters, all you need are a few words to why a second chance isn’t in the cards. Even more so, that second chance we pray for, we wish for, we lose sleep over, and we dream about isn’t always “take two” with our ex-lover, but could be the starting scene with someone else, our second chance in disguise. Or maybe a second shot at a powerful relationship with ourselves.

Nevertheless, when it comes to breaking up and realizing that walking away from a relationship or a could-be relationship is better than sticking around – it’s important to realize that sometimes, endings happen for a reason. Through this journey, I was able to finally put away any wishful thinking or deluded illusions about the one man from my past who I was not completely over. And so, ironically enough, when he came to bait me back into the ocean of disaster we created, I very honestly and openly told him that my heart wasn’t in it. Nor would it be.

And instead of  believing that he could change or that all the things that were never what I wanted would start to fit my fancy, I decided that I’d rather be alone than be stuck in a relationship that already failed once. I’d rather be in my single shoes than to return to a man who hurt me, who I merely fell in love with the idea of, and who even if I squint my eyes and rack my imagination, I can’t see standing up at the alter, gleaming at me as I cascade down the aisle.

That by not settling out of fear and giving him a second chance, I instead gave myself the opportunity to be free to meet someone who will never need to ask for one in the first place.

Thank you to everyone who submitted photos for my new page, Addicts Unite. If you’d like to submit a photo of you reading the blog with a link back to your blog/Twitter, please email Lindsay!

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Date Like a Man?

Every single day, I check my Gmail constantly looking for comments on my posts. I can’t even begin to describe how happy it makes me to hear from readers as they share their insights and their stories – somehow, in my little neck of the world, it makes me feel like we’re all in this “love addiction” journey together.

Also, as a journalist, I’m intrigued and often inspired by reading the words of others. And yesterday – a post from a frequent visitor to my blog, Facebook page, and Twitter – Mr. Moose, completely struck a chord with me (You can find his blog here). In response to “Dearly Beloved…I’m Afraid I Don’t” he said “you mentioned before you were attempting to adopt a guys attitude towards relationships (or something to that effect, I’m paraphrasing here.) but you just couldn’t do it. However you are nearly there if this post is the enshrinement of your actual thoughts on the subject.”

Now, I don’t quite remember if I did ever say that or not (I could have, but after over 100 posts, I forget!) – but I will say when I read it, I had to take a second look. And a third and fourth. Really, I kept coming back to it all day and even asked my mom what she thought about it, along with a few of my friends.

Is what I’m attempting to do with this blog, with this journey, with my dating life, is to be in a relationship like a man? To think like a guy? To be calm, cool, and collected like the many gentlemen (and jerks) who I’ve been involved with? Here I thought I was waiting for a guy with actual gumption, but in reality, I’m really just growing a pair myself?

The fact that men and women are very different creatures is not a new revelation – the great divide between the sexes is noted in every societal structure and institution. It is something that’s caused deaths, fights, wars, protests, and the introduction of new laws and viewpoints. I could go on an incredibly long rant about all of the influential, powerful female leaders in history and across the world who have helped me be as free and successful as I am, but for the purpose of this post, I’ll tell my sociology minor to calm down.

However – can we lay to rest some of these stereotypes separating what the ladies and the dudes want, think, feel, and act like in a relationship?

If dating like a man means picking my career over the opportunity for true love because my personal achievements are more important than a white picket fence. If dating like a man means I fear being exclusive with a Mr. I’m seeing because I’m so happy with how my life is, that I don’t want to change it. If dating like a man means that I value my independence and my alone time and sometimes would rather just sit at home, completely in the company of myself, and ignore phone calls or texts messages. If dating like a man means marriage scares me because I’m not ready to give up or modify my lifestyle or what I want or to commit to something so serious and life-altering. If dating like a man means I turn my head when a piece of physical beauty crosses my path. If dating like a man means I have sexual urges and desires and needs that are often not met, but I wish they would be. If dating like a man means an amazing day in the office, where I feel like I’m on top of the world, gives me way more pleasure than baking a casserole or taking care of a baby. If dating like a man means there are days when I forget to shave or not always dress to the nines. If dating like a man means I don’t always call after the first date (or even the second) and sometimes, I’m simply not interested, regardless of what they have to offer intellectually. If dating like a man means a great way to get to know someone is going to a baseball game, followed by some beers at a local pub…

…then folks, I may just be a guy. Let’s call me Mr. Tigar.

I despise the notion that women are excluded from possessing altruistic qualities and understandings once they accept the title of “girlfriend.” That because we’re female, because our bodies have higher doses of estrogen and we like to cuddle after we orgasm – we’re thought to be more dependent and that we value our independence less. That really, all of us, regardless if we have a PhD or are the head of a company or have started organizations and funds, really are just seeking a man that we can lean on and who can take care of us. That if we’re vocal with our opinions, if we decide not to get married by the age of 25, if we’re confident about who we are, what we have to offer and demand nothing less -we’re not perceived as self-reliant, but as braggers and bitches. That because we obsess about time between text messages or we want someone to think of us as irreplaceable or we want anniversaries to be remembered and see tardiness as unacceptable – we’re the more obnoxious in a relationship? Sorry dudes, but try dating yourself for just a week and I think you’ll understand. Actually, maybe even just a 24-hour period.

I will be the first to admit that these concepts are highly generalized and do not reflect every man or every woman. In fact, they probably do not represent most – but isn’t that the point? Should our sex really determine how we act when we’re in love? Do we have to take on these roles, these descriptions, these standards to be healthy when we’re part of a duo? Once we accept that Facebook request or cuddle into the nook of a man-who-could-be’s body, are we unknowingly allowing ourselves to sink into a submissive part, instead of a dominant one? Just because I’m a powerhouse and a vixen at work, that doesn’t mean I can’t be the same way when I one day flip the switch into loving-girlfriend mode. Leaving who I am at the office or tucked away for girl’s night out only gets me stuck up on some shelf or inside some box of “who I was” before I found love. A man is supposed to be my partner – not my authority. And I’ll do him the courtesy of him never having to wonder what I’m thinking or if he’ll need to take care of me – because, really, I get along pretty well on my own – even more so as this journey continues.

Men aren’t the only ones who are cowboys and desperadoes, Mr. Moose. Because if my freedom, my independence, my me-time is not allowed when I get married or stumble across a guy who is more than a possibility – then I think he’ll learn how quickly my boots are made for walkin’.

PS: If you’re a fan of Confessions of a Love Addict and want to be part of a new page on the blog, email Lindsay or send her a Tweet.

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Releasing Regret

I’ve been very blessed in many ways –and often, I take all of my good karma for granted. I can complain easier than I can breathe and I can find reasons to be unhappy much easier than I can find reasons to be thankful. All self-loathing aside, I have been lucky in my life that I can happily and easily say I have no regrets.

Maybe that sounds like I’m trying to brag that “I’ve done everything right in my life and have made all the best choices” –but that’s far from the truth. Sure, I’ve made many mistakes, said things that I probably shouldn’t have said, broken hearts that I could have prevented breaking, and manipulated people or opportunities more than what’s acceptable.

I’m not perfect (I certainly don’t claim to be), but I realize that part of life is screwing up. Even though I’m not a fan of being single (I am, however, working on it), I realize that like all good things in life – without a little work, you would never value them as much as they deserve.

Recently, Mr. Unavailable (another guy who tells me to chill out) sent me an article he thought I would find interesting about regrets. This popular blog has now been turned into a book (hint, hint, hint) and is a sounding board for people to write what they most regret in their past.

Lemondrop published an article based on this blog/book called “20 Things 20-Something Women Regret.” Of those 20 regrets, 18 of them relate to lost relationships, unrequited love, marriage, or lust.

Hmm. Of everything we’ve ever done or not done in our lives, the things we regret the most have to do with relationships. Why is that?

Why are the choices we make concerning the ones we love, the ones we make love to, the ones we want to love, but don’t, or the ones we love who don’t love us back – so damn important?

I spend more than enough time thinking about the past – and while I’m satisfied with the decisions I’ve made concerning previous loves, I find myself asking “What if I would have handled the situation differently?” or “What if I would have just accepted him for who he is?” or “Why didn’t I walk away sooner?” or “Why wasn’t I what he wanted?”

I realize concentrating on the coulda or the woulda or the shoulda is not healthy, but I believe its part of human nature (as validated through this blog).

But instead of regret –why can’t we look at the end of a relationship as the opportunity to find all of the wonderful things to come? Being stuck in a relationship that doesn’t work only prolongs the process of eventually finding the right person and doesn’t do anything for your self-confidence.

Instead of regret –why don’t we trust in a presence higher than ourselves who controls the fate of what’s meant for us? No amount of wishing or hoping will change that a relationship ended, regardless of who ended it or why.

Instead of regret –why don’t we stop blaming ourselves or putting ourselves down because of those who walked away or shattered our hearts, and realize there is a reason for it? If they could live without us (and we most certainly can live without them, I promise), then they would never give us the love we need and desire.

Instead of regret –be proud and be thankful of what you’ve learned and that tomorrow, a whole new page could turn into an exciting and passionate chapter of your life (either single or taken).

They say it is better to of loved and lost than to never have loved at all. And I say it’s better to believe in tomorrow and live today, than to dwell in yesterday.

This journey is teaching me to embrace myself, today, right now, in this moment, and to stop wondering about all that could (and will) be or should have been.

So take a plunge, all of you who are living with regret, including you, Mr. Unavailable (my difficult and charming friend), and surrender all of it. Just give it away and let the floods rush through you.

You can’t stop them. Believe me, I’ve tried. You won’t regret them. Believe me, I never have.

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The City of Love

Manhattan is coined as a pretty dirty place -full of grime and crime, thugs and lugs –and everything in between. The streets are aligned with trash, and the city changes with the wind –one block can be completely high-rise and luxurious, while the next will make you hold your bag a little closer.

I’ve been asked (mainly by my Southern relatives) why “on God’s green Earth would you ever move to New York City?” In fact, why did I decide to move away from North Carolina in the first place –away from the back winding roads, the calm nights with fireflies, and miles away from my alma mater, making it impossible for me to come to homecoming?

Why didn’t I, like all of the other girls in my family, settle down, find a good country boy, and get married? Why did I decide to go to this huge, scary, and dangerous place…alone?

To them, I reply, “I love New York.” They will smile, tell me they are praying for me, and then whisper amongst themselves about my absurdity.

Eh –maybe I’m a little crazy. I think to willingly choose to move to NYC, you’d have to be a tad out of your mind. But, the city draws in the crazies, the out-of-the-boxers, the strange-and-the-beautiful, the very-talented and the overly ambitious.

But if you look closely, slow down, pay attention, and examine everything going on around you –you’ll find the city is full of love. It’s not just that I adore the city –it’s that the city itself provokes kindness.

 

Written on the street outside my office :)

 

When you cross the street –you’re never alone. There’s always someone on one side of you, if not on both. When you sit down on a subway car, leave it, or enter it –there are always people near you. When you go grocery shopping, buy new shoes, pay for deodorant, or even just wipe your nose -you’re always surrounded by someone else. Even riding home in the taxi after a night of drinking –the cab driver sits right in front of you.

And while it’s not typical to speak to strangers (unless you’re from NC, like me) –you will catch yourself leaning up against the person on the subway, or find them lingering on you a while longer after the initial jolt of a stop. Or when you cross the street, sometimes, you’ll notice someone step with you –a little cautious of the cars that may forget to stop. Or when you’re sitting alone reading a book, it’s not uncommon to notice someone looking at you, caught in their own world of thoughts –only using you as a focus point.

You’ll find people helping each other by carrying heavy bags up stairs or opening doors or waiting for you to pass by. You’ll find an old woman bring her husband lunch to his office on the same block they’ve lived and worked for 50 years. You’ll find children kissing their parents and running through the streets like it’s their playground. You’ll find a couple you just know are on their first date –completely awkward, but somewhat enthralled, drinking a few beers, and wondering what’s next.

Sometimes you’ll pass friends comforting  each other on the side of the street, as one cries, and one remains strong –looking around to make sure no one messes with them. You’ll find yourself sharing glances with someone else who is responding the same way you are to a strange occurrence, a sudden sound, or a funny conversation.

The city makes you interact with other people –regardless if you want to or not. It forces you to come out of your shell and see what’s going on around you. It shows you that even in the most ordinary and most random of places –there is friendlessness and love all around.

I’ve been worrying that this process would somehow make me stop believing in love. It would make me cool and confident, but not warm and loving. However –as I wondered the streets today, both with a friend, and then alone –I realized that New York would never let that happen.

Gaining faith in myself and relaxing about being single doesn’t mean that my faith in love goes away. It doesn’t mean I have to stop enjoying seeing examples of love in everyday life or be inspired by seeing real love exist. Being okay single doesn’t mean I have to stop dreaming.

It simply means that the constant quest for love, the constant search, and longing for a relationship needs to fall later in my list of priorities. It means that I just let go of pushing and pulling for happily ever after, and allow something bigger than me take care of things for me. For now, watching love in the city fills my heart up with so much hope and peace –I can’t even put it into words.

I always knew I loved you New York, but I didn’t know you loved me this much, too.

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98 Million Thoughts

Yesterday, a friend forwarded me an email she received that claimed the average adult has approximately 60,000 thoughts in a 24-hour period. Not only is that a striking figure, but the second part of the survey claimed that of those 60,000 thoughts –nearly all of them are the same as the ones we had the day previously.

Now, I’m not sure of the credibility of this survey or how they measured an adult’s thinking processes –but it further solidifies that human beings are a creatures of habit; and when we get stuck on a certain worry or thought…we remain stubborn for quite some time.

I only took one math class in college, and wouldn’t have if it wasn’t required for my degree, but I attempted to come up with a rough estimate of how many thoughts I’ve had about single-life, relationships, and love:

  • Probably started seriously dedicating thoughts to being in love/having crushes/etc. around the age of 13 = 9 years of thoughts
  • 365 days in a year X 9 years = 3,285 days
  • Of those days, I’ll say I dedicated about half of my thoughts to relationships (the other half is probably balanced between NYC, writing, my friends, stopping violence against women, what to wear, reading, school work,  family, etc.) = 30,000 thoughts about love every single day
  • 3,285 days X 30,000 thoughts = 98,550,000 love thoughts

About 98 million thoughts about not being in a relationship, actually being in a relationship, hating myself for being single, being annoyed about love, actually being in love, worrying about getting married, being jealous, and so much more.

98 million thoughts?!! I wonder how many thoughts I’ve had just in the time it’s taken me to write this blog. I wonder how many of these thoughts I’ve said out loud or written for the whole cyber world to see. I wonder if this is normal?

Of all of these thoughts, very few have been encouraging over the last 9 years I’ve been obsessed with love. A selective bunch have been full of optimism and hope for all that’s to come, and even less have been geared towards giving myself positive compliments and encouragement –or telling myself it’s okay to be single and to love myself first.

Step Two, which I officially started yesterday with the flower breakdown, is to believe that a higher power can take away all of my negative thinking towards relationships. That this higher power, in its infinite wisdom and peace, can restore sanity to me and a hopeful spirit.

I’m not sure I believe that yet. I’m not sure I believe my 98 million thoughts can just be lifted and taken away –and I certainly don’t think it’s something that can happen overnight or in a week. Of those 98 million thoughts, not very many have been geared towards thankfulness or prayer. If anything, they’ve been pleading players –full of tears, fears, and ‘Do you hear me?!!!” pleas.

So how do I turn around my 98 million awful thoughts into relaxed, positive, and letting go-thoughts?

How do I make myself believe that something out of my power can restore my power?

How do I do this?