Real Talk

It’s weird what sticks with you. When I was pretty young (say nine or ten-ish) my next door neighbors, who were like surrogate grandparents to us, gave me a book about hygeine, comportment and femininity for girls. Who the heck knows where it came from, because their daughter was already grown and having sons of her own, but it seemed to be some sort of hand-me-down. Teen Girl Talk (the great site awfullibrarybooks.com has a feature on it, here http://awfullibrarybooks.net/?p=7499) was filled with all sorts of frightening tips.  At the time, I remember thinking it was already pretty out-dated*, and I’ve never been the girliest-girl in the world, but for some reason I lived and died by its advice. 

I tried the 1000 calorie per day diet plan (great for growing kids!) and did the ankle exercises until they were throbbing (and still chubby.)  I even kept my eyes open when washing my face because, “eyes need washing, too.” But what I remember most is its recommendations on body measurements, and how you should be able to fit your hands around your waist. Is anyone actually able to do this? Make a circle with the fingers of both hands in front of you right now. Does that look like the circumference of a healthy waist? No. Maybe back when whalebones were a popular fashion accessory, but certainly not now. Lord knows I couldn’t do it at age 10 and I couldn’t do it at age 20 when I started working out and dieting like a madwoman. Is that not insane? Even as an adult I catch myself wrapping my fingers around my waist trying to gauge just how long my damn fingers would need to be to reach each other. Even though I know – and knew as a kid – that it’s a completely unrealistic goal. 

There’s not much of a point to this, except to say that we spend our adult lives trying to get out from under the negative things we learned and experienced as kids. If I have a female child in the future I’ll make sure to tell her that her waist is great just the way it is and that eyeballs don’t need washing.

*Further research has uncovered that it was published in 1981, but, gosh, it seemed like something from the 30s.

Oh, the guilt.

Having grown up very very Catholic, I feel a crushing amount of guilt on a daily basis: guilt for the way I look, the way I (sometimes) act, the way that I’ve dealt with certain situations. The list goes on and on. Is it just me or is guilt the most counterproductive of all emotions? I mean, sure, if you do a bad thing intentionally, you should feel bad…but if it comes from simply being yourself, that isn’t healthy. I have guilt down to a tragic science. One of my goals for this year – the last of my twenties – is to minimize unreasonable bad feelings. I’m no psychiatrist, but it seems like that can be accomplished in a few steps:

1.       Acknowledge the guilt
2.       Identify its source
3.       Calmy and firmly release yourself from it.

There’s something effective in just saying out loud, “I am no longer going to feel guilt over this.” It might not disappear immediately, but you’re starting to reprogram your brain to respond to more positive commands. Like training a dog. Guilt is bad. No guilt is a treat. (Just as long as I don’t start rewarding myself with actual treats, like candy or something. That’ll mean weight gain and SURPRISE! Guilt.)

I look back at my relationship with my ex and am consumed with remorse for a lot of different things. I feel shitty for having dragged us both through the mud. I feel like a fool for having ignored things that didn’t sit right with me, things that I can’t believe I didn’t identify as red flags. I feel like a jerk for having taken my friends and family along for the ride on the emotional roller coaster (even though I’m sure they didn’t mind…much.) In general I feel like I did just about everything wrong, right up to this very day. I’m missing him and missing our connection, and am not sure how to go about handling it. 

GUILT. 

There’s either a giant glass of wine or an hour on the stair-stepper in my future. Maybe both at the same time. Mmmmm…and I refuse to feel guilty about that.

Burn Notice

A few years ago I heard a story about a woman who unwittingly gave a sexually transmitted disease to one of her partners. She worked in a call center and when the guy got tested and found out about the disease, he embarked on a campaign to humiliate her. He called the 1-800 number dozens of times and when a representative answered he'd say, "Hey, do you know Amy? Does Amy work there? She burned me." The office was small, about thirty people all in the same room so everyone knew Amy and pretty soon everyone knew she had "burned" someone. The guy continued to call all day long, even after Amy went home, mortified and in tears.

I tell this story because it shows that we are only as good as our reactions to shitty situations. Sometimes you get burned and you want to lash out, but if you go about it the wrong way you'll lose all your credibility with people who under other circumstances would have totally been on your side. So no matter how upset you are and how slighted you feel, you can't make a hundred phone calls. You can't mount a campaign to make someone else's life a living hell, just because. We all get burned. Slap some salve on that thing and move on.

We Know We're Crazy*

The first step towards recovery is admitting you have a problem. We ladies sometimes do crazy stuff that we (hopefully) know is crazy, but we do it anyway. Perhaps because you all drive us to it, perhaps because we just can’t help ourselves. So how about a little group therapy. 

We know we’re in the wrong when we:

• Get rid of your stuff. When my now-ex and I moved in together, I was fascinated by his “stuff.” Maybe due to the fact that our belongings meshed really well and we have similar taste, but whatever the reason, I loved it and never wanted to pare it down. Women seem to have this compulsive need to find the one thing men love the most (comic book collections, the comfy t-shirt, porn) and annihilate it. Don’t ask me why. If it isn’t yours, leave it be!
• Fill in our own blanks. The blame for this one is definitely spread equally between genders. Men, you tend to give us information on a ‘need to know’ basis. Just the talking points. We want the whole story and if you don’t include each and every minor detail, we’ll convince ourselves that you have something to hide. We’ll write our own story, complete with the wildest ending imaginable. We’re creative like that, so do us (and yourself) a favor and just tell us the whole story.
• Snoop. I’m guilty of snooping, but never unprompted snooping. One time I was using my (MY) laptop and discovered that an ex had visited a dating website specifically geared towards casual hook-ups. I did some more digging and saw that there was a fresh new profile he was still signed into! So I made some fun, informative changes to that profile. See how you make us do crazy things? That one was totally not my fault because I mean, c’mon. If you’re dumb enough to use my computer to find, “Local sluts who want to f&*$” then you deserve what you get.
• Tell you what you want to hear. “I don’t want kids, either.” “You’re the best I’ve ever had.” “Size doesn’t matter.” OK so some of these are little white lies that probably won’t hurt anybody but when it comes to the big issues, we need to stick up for ourselves a bit more. The real answers are, “I'm not sure if I want kids. I think you’ll make a great dad but don’t want to scare you away by saying it.” “You’re very good at taking care of business, but there’s room for improvement,” and, “Size only matters when it’s small. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

*Case in point. God, I wish I didn't have such a great example of me being crazy to share, but...yesterday I called my ex to say hi and the call was sent to voicemail. Not immediate voicemail, but the "ring ring ring voicemail," that lets you know the person has CHOSEN to send you to voicemail. Today I texted him, "Are you pissed at me for some reason?" No response. So I call again. Voicemail. Call again. Voicemail. Third call (affectionately know as the "You're truly crazy" call) he picks up and now he is kind of pissed...he was taking a nap.

I'm crazy.

Virtually real.

A lovely anonymous commenter posted this a few days ago:

I've been interested in your posts about the breakup...going through a pretty awful one right now myself. Do you find the blogging therapeutic? I feel like I just want to crawl into a cave and not talk about it, acknowledge it, allow it to be real.

Trust me, if there was a cave nearby and it was socially acceptable to take, like, a two-month-long sabbatical to said cave, I’d totally be there. In the dark, wrapped in a bear skin, clutching a mag of red wine and a hanky. There’s still a part of me that can’t wrap my mind around the fact that we’ve really broken up. Even though I’ve physically moved to a new apartment that’s my own place, it still feels like our lives haven’t entirely separated. And they really haven’t. We talk every day and spend time together (we even watched “our” TV show premieres together the other day.) That contributes to the unreal feeling, for sure. 

Writing about it is therapeutic, for the most part, but there’s another aspect of it that makes it seem…I dunno, somehow fictional. Like, I’m just telling these people’s stories and, hey, maybe there WILL be a happy ending! So I constantly have to push that feeling away while I’m writing about the break-up.

One thing that did make it realer was that very very shortly after we broke up, he was already hooking up with people. Not sure what level of hooking up, but at the very least making out with people in public places. I know that’s pretty much what guys do. They don’t give themselves enough time to grieve (whether they know they need it or not) and jump right into something else. Obviously that’s his prerogative now that he’s single, but it felt like a total bitch slap. A bitch slap that snapped me back into reality, at least a little bit. 

Anonymous, I’m bummed to hear you’re going through something similar. It truly sucks so hard I can’t even put it into words. I wish I could give you a hug.

Jealous Much? At All?

Back in the day I remember saying silly things, like, "Oh, I never get jealous." I said that to a guy I was seeing and he responded, without missing a beat, "That means you've never been head-over-heels about someone." I waved it off, thinking that he couldn't possibly be right. I mean, I was head-over-heels about him, right?

Wrong.

When I did finally meet someone who made me crazy, ecstatic, furious and head-over-heels, all at once, I felt those pangs of jealousy creeping in. It was something I'd never really expected. Every female he came into contact with, friend, ex or otherwise earned a sideways glance from me. Who the heck was she? And why was she calling him? And how often did they talk? And why hadn't I heard stories about her?

Over time I settled down a lot and realized that he loved me and was devoted to me. That's all well and good, but I also realized that he wasn't a jealous person. Not even a little bit. I could tell him I had plans to fly to Johnny Depp's private island for the weekend and act as his personal masseuse and his response would be, "OK, babe. Have a good time. Oh, while you're there could you see if he has any Hunter S. Thompson stuff lying around. Cool. Thanks." The only thing that's more off-putting than a jealous rage is...the absence of a jealous rage. I have to admit that it bugged me. He didn't feel threatened by anyone. It was mystifying.

But this weekend, after having a tense couple of days (we're still working through things, having decided to keep living together for the time being) during which I angrily told him that I would go elsewhere to find a satisfying relationship if he was not able to provide it, something finally got under his skin. A painfully old friend of mine called on Saturday to talk about a project he's working on. He was looking for advice. Now, I've known this guy since we were bitty babies. We went to nursery school together. He poses no threat, and I barely ever talk to him unless we run into one another in the neighborhood. It really rubbed my boyfriend the wrong way and later on, without my knowledge, he called this friend and asked him to steer clear. My friend assured him that there was absolutely nothing going on, as I did when my boyfriend let me know he had done it. It was certainly an unnecessary move on his part (and now I have to call this guy and apologize, which annoys me) but I have to say that I wasn't really mad.*

I was almost...reassured.

*I'm even less mad now that my boyfriend told me that he never actually called this guy, but was just messing with me. Sigh...

Lovefool

In anticipation of the three year anniversary of my boyfriend's and my first date, I thought it would be fun to read the tidbits of recorded history from that time. In other words, the gushingly girly emails I wrote to my friends. Oh my god, was it not fun.

I read and read and by the end of the narrative was depressed, and pitied the heroine for being so lovesick and foolish. She was head-over-heels. She was making emotional mix CDs at a rate never before seen. She was hanging on every text, call, and glance from him. She was, quite frankly, a little bit pathetic. When I finished reading, it took me a moment to snap back into reality and realize, "That awful creature was me." *barf*

It took even longer to remember that I had ultimately gotten what I'd wanted so badly years ago. There's not much comfort to be taken in that, though, because that lame girl is still in there somewhere, just waiting to pop out. When she does I'm going to remind her that one CD is plenty.

Update: Just did a little research into what kind of gifts are traditional for a three year anniversary and apparently it is the 'Leather Anniversary.' So, what does that mean? Like, shoes? Or whips and ball gags and things? Fair enough...

YES!

OK, so I'm a little bit obsessed with Say Yes to the Dress. Not so much because I have any plans to marry, but because I've been fantasizing about and sketching dresses of all kinds since I was knee-high to a flower girl. I love the fashion, love the drama of everyone throwing in her opinion on the brides' choices, and I especially love when the stylists "jack up" the girls with veils and jewelry once they've found The One. It's all very satisfying, and it makes me want to go shopping. (I'll admit that I've even gone to Kleinfeld's website and browsed. Also very satisfying. I like either art nouveau-themed dresses, or the superduper modern ones with asymmetry and pockets.)

A few nights ago I caught a new (I think) episode featuring a couple who seemed to be so ridiculously in love. When they were shown at their wedding, the bride asked the groom if she liked her dress and he said:

"As long as you're wearing it, I like it."

Um...hashtag MELT. What a beautiful thing to say to your new wife, or anyone you're in love with, for that matter. It's just such a wonderful attitude to have towards your partner. To really believe that she could be wearing a dress made of masking tape or a Slim Goodbody outfit and still look amazing.

Even if it's not entirely true, I'd suggest learning this line and pulling it out in the future. It'll probably get you a, "Yesssss."

Blank

This is a bit of a shameless plug for the book I'm reading right now, but if you want to gain some insight into the long-term potential of your relationship (or insight into a lot of things, really) you should pick up Blink by Malcolm Gladwell. It delves into the instant judgments we're capable of making and how those gut reactions can sometimes be more accurate than judgments made after months of study.

In the first chapter, Gladwell recounts an experiment performed to determine if the success of a marriage can be predicted. They filmed couples discussing their marital issues and analyzed the emotions they displayed. Turns out the designers of the study were able to guess with about 90% accuracy whether the relationships were doomed or not, just based on the ratio of negative interactions to positive. Is that not amazing?

Apparently the number one indicator of a relationship that isn't going to last is the presence of contempt during those conversations. Feeling contempt from the person you love doesn't just affect your heart, but it can lead to more frequent illnesses (!) and less happiness in all areas of life. To me, this makes so much sense. If my boyfriend is upset with me; if we get to the point that we're being mean or calling names, it guts me and makes it nearly impossible to focus on anything other than those negative emotions.

So if you're approaching the point in a conversation or conflict where contempt may enter the equation, step back. They say, "Sticks and stones," and all that, but unkind words from your SO can physically hurt you. And, at the very least, they point toward a predictably grim future for you, as a couple.

Just a Spoonful of Sugar

I'm going to write a little open letter to the guys right now, because I look at you and I see the confusion and helplessness in your eyes. You're trying so hard to figure out what's happening in these crazy, feminine heads of ours. You're nervous and desperate and kind of want to bolt, like a startled animal. I see all this, and I want to help, so I'm going to let you in on a little secret that I promise will serve you well in your relationships. In this case, we're talking about romance, which is a word that scares the hell out of you guys, but it really shouldn't, because...

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

I really have to apologize in advance for the corny concept of this post, but I have this recycling triangle on my desk at work and I stare at it all day long, so it's kind of wormed itself into my unconscious mind. I guess it was only a matter of time before I was just struck by how the concept can apply to girlfriending, too.

Reduce stress and conflict. Your partner is the person closest to you and, incidentally, the person who will bear the brunt of your stress in life. It’s easy to take your frustrations out on them just because they’re there, but that can lead to a lot of unnecessary strain on your relationship. Don’t use your SO as a dumping ground. Sure, they understand you and can be a good sounding board but don’t be relentless when venting your spleen.

Reuse compliments and affirmations. No one gets sick of hearing that they’re beautiful and clever and successful, so keep on saying it, even if you have to dig down deep to find it. A few minutes spent admiring each other can make both of your days. It’s almost as nice to give a compliment as it is to get one.

Recycle yourselves. We’re all constantly changing and evolving as people. Make sure your relationship is evolving along with you. What worked a year ago may not work today and there’s nothing wrong with that, but you have to be conscious of it. Become a better version of your relationship, like an Us 2.0.

The Soundness of Silence

It's certainly been drummed into our brains that verbal communication is essential to a healthy relationship, and it is. You can't get what you don't ask for, and you can't solve conflict without hashing it out so, yes, verbal communication is important. I think though, that non-verbal communication is just as important.

Silence is a restorative thing on many levels. It's relaxing and allows to be inside your own head, for one, but it also forces you to read your partner's non-verbal cues. Frankly, I need silence to better appreciate the lack thereof. For some, a moment of quiet is uncomfortable and they feel the need to fill it with nervous talk but I encourage people to fight against that, especially when you're with your partner.

One of the grievances we hear regarding long term relationships is that the couple has, "run out of things to talk about." I have three ways to solve this problem:

1. Stop being boring. (I'm only half-kidding on this. If you never stop learning and experiencing, you'll always have something to talk about.)
2. Speak with restraint. Sure, it's tempting to want to tell him all of your funny stories at once, and explain your entire family dynamic before your first Christmas together, but please don't. All it takes is a few, "Yeah, you already told me that,"s to make you feel exhausted.
3. Embrace a few moments of silence during the day.

I suppose the fourth suggestion could be to, "stop complaining about the fact that you know your partner inside and out. That's a good thing. Duh."

That's a Deal Breaker, Ladies

Deal breakers are like, well, opinions. Everybody has one. Or two.

I think it's important to share this information with your significant other pretty early on, just to be fair. Ostensibly, in a new relationship, you want to give each other the best possible shot at success and knowing the other's deal breakers at least lets you know what might send you to Jail without passing Go.

I really only have one, and that is: cheating. (I want to put that in bold italics but that would give the word more power, and, wow, it is powerful enough on its own. It already has creepy organ music and thundercracks accompanying it in my head.) Cheating is like six kinds of offensive. There's the lying, of course, but worse than a web of lies is the realization that your partner doesn't want to share something with you. And worse than that is the realization that your partner doesn't want to sleep with you.

My main goal in life, as you might imagine, is to stay alive. When your significant other cheats, your health is directly threatened. Of course there's the very real, frightening possibility of contracting an STD but I'd worry more about my health being threatened by winding up on death row after murdering someone. See, nobody wants that.

One of the many things that my boyfriend and I have worked really hard on is unflinching - and sometimes brutal - honesty, and our secrets from one another are few and far between. (The secrets we do have are necessary and important to us. That's a topic for another day.) Someday he may sit me down and tell me something I don't want to hear, but I wouldn't have it any other way. He knows that he can tell me just about whatever's on his mind, and that we'll face it together. Unless, of course, what's on his mind is, "I cheated on you." In that case, would someone please gather up some bail money and get my lawyer on the phone.

My deal breaker is probably pretty common. I'm interested to hear what transgressions are on your list.

And...in conclusion. I wish this book actually existed.

Scheduling Conflict

My boyfriend and I have almost completely opposite schedules. I work a 9-to-5 and he is in the restaurant industry, so his hours are always unpredictable and usually skewed much later than mine. I knew this when I met him, during the years that we were friends and later when we became romantically involved.

And, yet, it still bugs the crap out of me.

When I'm dragging myself out of bed in the morning, he's peacefully enjoying another few hours of sleep. When I'm dragging myself to bed at night, he's enjoying all the late night TV I love, but can no longer stay up for. It's so unfair. Of course, from his perspective, I'm the one who has it good, working standard hours and being able to live it up with just about everyone else during off-hours. When most of our friends are partying he's stuck at work. Also unfair.

One way we've dealt with the differing schedules is to designate one day out of the week as, "Our Day." It's usually Sunday. We make it a point to spend a whole day just enjoying each other's company, cooking, relaxing and getting reacquainted. It's absolutely essential, in my opinion, to reserve at least a little time for just the two of you, even if it's as simple as a quiet day at home.

Readers, how do you make time for your SO?

Meeting the Parents

One of the few relationship milestones that I know I have in the bag is meeting the parents. Parents have always been my specialty, for some reason. It's so seldom that I can actually give advice on something rather than just speculating so I put together a list of parent-friendly pointers. A few 'Do's and 'Don't's:

Do Ask your SO a ton of questions ahead of time. There's no better way to figure out where your boundaries lie. Is his mother crazy about raising exotic ferns or is she allergic to everything containing chlorophyll? What's Dad's favorite sports team? Or is Dad more interested in model airplanes (in which case...honey, I haven't seen any actual model airplanes anywhere in your parents house. I think your dad is just huffing glue in the garage.)

Don't overshare. These people are parents, not your girl friends and they probably aren't going to be won over by that story about how you had one too many dirty martinis last weekend, snapped a heel off on a crack in the sidewalk and had to walk home with one shoe on. (I love that story, though. You can always tell me again.)

Do bring a little something. Two of the most important things in my life are drinking and baking and that's very lucky, because everyone loves wine and cookies. Together, obviously. If you aren't skilled at channeling Betty Crocker, it can be tempting to want to just grab a store-bought pie but I'd advise against it. Play to your strengths, whatever they may be.

Don't step on anyone's toes. Ask if there's something you can do to help out, but only once or twice. If Mom consistently says no then, well, she means no (and, possibly, "You're getting in the way.") Sit down and enjoy yourself.

Do your best to charm their pants off. Tell them how great their son is and how lucky you are to have found him. Point out evidence of their excellent parenting. They will glow and coo and be deliriously happy. This is where you can overdo it a little, within reason.

Don't compare them to your own family!! I can't put enough exclamation points after that one. Every family is quirky, dysfunctional, damaged, and awesome in its own way. Take comfort in the ways that his is more supportive or social, or how yours never argues on holidays. The words, "Well, we don't do it that way," should never cross your lips. You're on vacation in a foreign family. Don't ever be a rude American.