Tag Archives: Love

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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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Gmail’s Language Lesson

Addicts have addictive personalities –we are more likely to develop an additional obsession to the one we have. While I could make a wager on having a high-heel fixation –I believe my true second addiction is Gmail.

If I roughly estimated how many times I check my Gmail on a daily basis –it’d probably be close to 75 or more. It’s always up at work, although I set my Gchat status to “Busy” (with the cute little color-coded buttons!). I often will chat with someone via Gchat, read other people’s “Buzz” updates, and every time I see I have a new email –I seriously get excited. I always anticipate getting an important, urgent, or fascinating email that delivers incredible news. I’m not exactly sure what email I think I’ll be getting –but my eagerness never dwindles.

I actually check Gmail before I even check Facebook and I have five accounts –my personal, one for ChickSpeak, one for the ChickSpeak assistant, one for my day job, and one for this blog. I don’t check each of them every single day –but at least once a week. I love all of the features and I think you’d be crazy (or born before 1980) to use any other platform other then Gmail (A little promotional maybe, but if Google sponsors me, I’d be game).

So you can imagine my despair when I woke up Tuesday morning to discover my personal Gmail account had been spammed. Someone or something (not exactly who “they” represents who hacks into accounts) sent a spam link to over 500 people from my name. This doesn’t only include my address book –but basically anyone I’ve ever sent any email to: possible employers, those I worked with at Cosmopolitan or Seventeen and my current job, family, friends, Craigslist postings, and the list goes on and on.

After waking up at the very last alarm at 7:30 with only an hour to spare before having to catch the train –I quickly needed to send out an email to all of those addresses before they woke up to click on the link. As I composed the email warning people not to open the last email from me because it was spam and could potentially cause damage to their computer –I started to wonder about what “spam” exactly is.

Yes, it’s some sort of meat (maybe) concoction that crazy people find tasty, but as defined by Wikipedia (my generation’s Encyclopedia), it’s the “use of electronic systems to send unsolicited bulk messages indiscriminately.”

Think about it: spam infiltrates our computers or our email accounts –both of which are near-and-dear to our hearts, holding all sorts of personal information and proposes the risk of damaging everything we determine has value.

But what about our minds?

I’d say that’s a pretty important part of our bodies. Even though it’s valuable, holds all of our personal information –we send spam through it each and every day. And we allow it to travel throughout our systems –causing possible destruction to our hearts, minds, and overall well-being.

I realized how much my thoughts control my mood, my attitude, my walk, my talk, my concentration, my organization, my eating habits, my stamina, my motivation…my everything.

And every single day –I send out consistent spam through my thoughts. I started paying attention to some of the language I use as a thought-spammer: “It’s just not going to happen for you. Others are meant for love, you’re not.” “You’re not as pretty as she is. Or as skinny. Your skin isn’t as clear either.” “You’re working for a business magazine –is that what you moved to New York for?” “A guy like that wouldn’t like you.” “You need to run more.” “You’re going to be single forever. You’re meant to walk home from my gym alone every single night.”

Wow.

My Gmail gets spammed once in the four years I’ve had the account and I sincerely freak out. I spam myself daily –and I never took note of my negativity. No wonder I obsess or I feel awful or down on myself. No wonder I think poorly of how I look, how I handle things, or how I act. No wonder I feel the need to be validated by a man’s love to make me feel important, worthy, or beautiful.

So what if (this is a good “what if”, no worries) I decided to start notifying myself of the spam going on in my head? What if, when a bad thought goes through my head –instead of listening to it, opening it, and allowing it to filter through my mind –I mentally “emailed” myself to warn me of buying into the spam?  What if I sent out a message similar to the one I sent to all of my contacts that said “Warning: having this thought over and over again will cause you to be sad, angry, depressed, and lonely. It will infect your entire system and outlook –so under no circumstances, do not listen to it. By the way, we haven’t caught up recently, Linds, what’s good and new with you?”

What if I fought my “thought spam” as diligently as I fought my email spam?

Self-defeating, negative, and obsessive single-hating spam has no place in my mind, in my Gmail, or in my life. No archiving, no labeling, no Gchatting with it, or replying to its antics. No storing it for later use when I have a bad day that yields to peanut butter and tears. No filling up the account to its maximum capacity with repetitive notions that serve absolutely no purpose and clog up other outgoing thoughts.

The only way to handle thought spam is by just deleting. And then emptying the trash to make room for better things to anticipate and get ridiculously excited for.

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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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Lesson from Mr. Unavailable

Since I moved to the city, I haven’t exactly had the best luck in dating. Hence, part of why I’m writing this blog. I had this unrealistic notion that once I moved to my dream location, my dream guy would show up too.

Maybe a little idealistic of me? Yeah –I’ll admit that (it is after all, what recovery is about). My mother went as far to tell me I’d meet Prince Charming at JFK on March 14, when my plane landed in my new home.

Nice in theory –but the reality couldn’t have been further from the truth. However, the men I have met while I’ve been here the last six months have had a common theme.

They’ve all been completely unavailable.

Either literally –because they’ve had girlfriends or wives, or emotionally -because they just got out of a serious relationship or because they’re just not looking for a special someone at this time.

None of these guys have been particularly rude or nasty –they have all, in fact, been very kind and openly honest. They have poured out their hearts and their souls or spoken of their leading ladies in the highest of terms.

It’s been quite unfortunate that they have told me about their girlfriends or about the one-who-got-away when I first meet them, or over drinks or dinner, when at the time, I’m sure they are available. While that’s sucked –I’ve appreciated the fair warning.

Recently, because I made no rules for this 12-step program, I went on a “date.” It was a very simple meeting in Bryant Park with coffee –that ended up lasting close to four hours. He’s an attractive, successful, and ambitious guy. He’s full of simple humor and his sincerity is evident. He would be a catch in anyone’s terms and of course, he’s a New York native.

The course of our “hanging out” or whatever you would call it, consisted mainly of a discussion of his ex-girlfriend. I don’t know too much about her –but he’s completely in love with her. They had a disagreement which led to the end of their relationship, but in his eyes, she could be The One. She’s someone he could see forever with and he beats himself up over letting her go.

We talked a few hours about what grand gesture he should make to win her heart back –to get this beautiful lady who stole away his life at a banquet nearly a year ago to give him another chance. He talked about her favorite flower, silly-habits that belong just to her, and every woman that walked by who resembled her –his head shot around like he was seeing an angel walk on earth. He asked me for advice, apologized profusely for talking about this when we intentionally had met to see what could be between us, and wore his emotion on his sleeve.

Even just a few weeks ago, this date or hanging out or non-definition-meeting –would have rocked my heart. It would have made me feel bad about how I look and question what I’m worth. I would have gone home choking back tears on the subway and Rite Aid would have had one less box of chocolate on their dollar aisle.

This time, though, I went home hopeful.

And yes, it’s only been a week of my personal therapy, but last night, I was inspired. Hearing him talk about this woman, seeing the sincere pain in his eyes, and the longing still resonating in his face –gave me a glimpse of true love.

It was sad, but it was amazing to know that this kind of love is possible. That a man could love someone so sincerely, so profoundly, that he would fight for her. That he would think over the course of a month exactly what would persuade her to give him the opportunity to prove his love. That while he seems to be a self-confident, secure, and capable adult (who I would think is pretty good at this self-love thing) –was willing to let his heart be stolen away for someone who he considered more than worth the trouble.

I don’t know his ex-girlfriend and I doubt I ever will –but I’m happy for her. Instead of being jealous that someone doesn’t feel this way towards me, I think it’s incredible that they were both lucky enough to love in such a strong way. And, of course, I think it’s very sweet that he’s going to chase after her with a grand gesture (which for the record, will be quite romantic with a few of my suggestions).

I realized that his lack of interest in me had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that I wasn’t pretty enough or intriguing enough to “woo” him into falling in love with me or creating the start of a possibility –it’s just that his heart is elsewhere. His heart isn’t up for grabs and it isn’t open to…well, opening.

And mine isn’t either. It’s not open. It’s not ready for a new relationship. It’s not ready for love. It’s not ready for establishing the foundation of a new romance or even a fling. It’s not the time and I don’t want it to be. I’m Ms. Unavailable.

I’ve been asking God for the last couple of days to help me to start believe it was possible for me to let go of these negative thoughts towards love, and to believe that a power bigger than mine could help erase all of my old habits.

That date was a sign.

It was a symbol that I can believe in a power higher than myself. I can believe that in time, my heart will open again, and I will be loved in a way that’s sincere and everlasting. But now, it’s time for me to concentrate on the love I have for myself. My heart can only be open to loving me right now. It’s not capable of letting someone else in on the relationship.

Facebook would probably define the relationship I’m developing with myself as “complicated” –but I think it’s just starting to grow.  I’m trying to start to believe things can change.

I believe I can do this. And I believe I’ll be helped.

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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?