Monthly Archives: January 2011

He’s not the one if…

Posted on by l0velyjune
7

Soul-Mates by ~Sha-X-doW, deviantart.com

Back when I was still with my PoA, I found myself constantly questioning whether or not I was doing the right thing by staying with him when so much of the relationship felt so wrong. I mean after all, he was “the one.” I’d been with him for three years and I’d loved him like I never loved anyone before and he said he loved me too! I honestly believed I had to overlook a few of his bad qualities because, well, that’s what you do when you are with your soulmate, isn’t it? You overlook the bad and try to stay focused on the good.

Thing is, the longer I stayed, the more I realized his bad qualities, while acceptable to others, was not acceptable to me. I couldn’t make peace with about four of his qualities. Just four! And yet, those four were hurting me.  That’s when I became aware that my idea of “the one” was a little flimsy.You can love someone deeply, you can even have a lot of things in common too, but if certain criteria are not met (umm, he says he loves you but he’s not physically or emotionally available) then you may have to reevaluate your definition of “the one.”  That being said…..here are a few obvious signs that he might not be the one.

He’s not the one if…

1. He left you.
Plain and simple. Your soul mate doesn’t leave you, even if he insists he’s never loved anyone more than you. Whatever the excuse, it’s just that. He’s not the one. When someone wants to be with you, when someone is right for you, they don’t leave you. They want to be with you, despite their circumstances.

2. You left him.
We tend to leave people out of frustration because we cannot change their behavior, or as a threat to change. We leave people simply because we know or feel that something is wrong. And that’s a good thing. But love addicts tend to GO BACK. They tell themselves, “I have to go back, because he’s the one.” But this is so far from the truth. This is part of your addiction not wanting to be alone. It’s your addiction telling you that the pain of staying is better than the pain of being alone. But, remind yourself this: when a relationship is right and good, it doesn’t inspire you to keep running away. You are running away for a reason: this guy is WRONG.

3. He’s with another woman (he’s dating or married).
I have met so many women who fall in love with a married man (or a man dating another woman) and come to believe that the two are soul mates; that “he married the other woman because he hadn’t yet met me.” If that were the case, and occasionally it is, then you need to stay away from that man and his wife until his relationship is resolved and until he is free to date you. Soul mates are not married to other people. That’s Hollywood. That’s fantasy. And that’s wishful thinking. It’s trying to justify your behavior when truthfully, there is no justification for it. The reality of life is that when you have a relationship with a married or partially available man, you are an unwelcome intruder, whether you were lured there by the man or you went willingly, you are doing SEVERE DAMAGE to all the people involved, including yourself. Not only do you need to create morals and values for yourself, but you need to see how distorted his morals and values are if he is taking action to be with you. So often we are so grateful that someone is paying us attention that we don’t care who or what it is. We’ll take the validation any way we can. Or perhaps we feel emotionally safer with a married man. There is less intimacy and emotional expectation after all from someone who cannot commit to YOU fully.

4. You’re with another man.
Oops! You finally met “the one,” but you’re married to someone else. But here’s the deal: “the one” is probably mostly attracted to you now because you’re married. To him, you’re safe, and he doesn’t have to fully commit to you like he would have to fully commit to someone who was otherwise free. Soul mates are not married to other people. That’s Hollywood. That’s fantasy. And that’s wishful thinking. It’s trying to justify your behavior when truthfully, there is no justification for it. The reality of life is that when you have a relationship outside your marriage, you are inviting an unwelcome intruder into your life—the one that presently anchors you to your hubby. An affair is selfish and childish, and you are doing SEVERE DAMAGE to all the people involved, including yourself. Not only do you need to create morals and values for yourself, but you need to see how distorted his morals and values are if he is taking action to be with you. If you truly believe someone outside your marriage is worth going after, then that someone better have the will and desire to wait for you while you are resolving or dissolving your current relationship. If he doesn’t, he’s not the one.

5. Someone is cheating on someone else.
When a loving relationship is right and good, no one is cheating, no one is lying. Cheating and lying are both ways in which people distance themselves from one another. Cheating does nothing to bring two people closer. Cheating is an immature act. It is based on the concept of immediate gratification (I want what I want and I want it now and I don’t care about the consequences). Adults can control themselves. Immature people can’t.

6. He neglects you, avoids you, doesn’t call, doesn’t write, text, etc.
Soul mates don’t neglect you, avoid you, or have a million excuses why they didn’t call. Not sure what that’s all about. But you deserve better than that. Normal, healthy men call you, they want to see you and spend time with you. Don’t think otherwise.

7. He verbally, emotionally, mentally or physically abuses you.
If he’s “the one,” he is not abusing you in any way shape or form, and likewise, you are not abusing him back. Physical fighting and making up doesn’t count either. If he hit you once, chances are he’ll hit you again. If you are in danger, get out. You are worth saving.

8. You’ve only met him online and haven’t even seen him yet.
It takes a long time to know and love someone. You may “click” with someone relatively quickly. You may be attracted to them right off the bat via a photo. But attraction nor clicking over the internet is a sign of deep love. Those things are superficial, and though they are a great start to a possible relationship, they are not a relationship. Talking for hours with someone you cannot see, hear, smell or touch is not healthy either. Good partners need to fully commit, in person, so as to enjoy the reality of their closeness. When we invest so much of ourselves so quickly, we are partaking in an act of instability. We are not being cautious or caring about the safety of our hearts. Take your time. Get to know someone. It takes months, if not years to fully know and love someone.

9. He lives too far away to have a normal, healthy relationship.
Long distance love affairs occur all the time. But in order for them to be healthy there must have been a foundation to the relationship to begin with. A couple who dates for a year, for example, and then one of them is stationed in Iraq has a chance of success because the relationship has a foundation. But someone you met over the weekend, who was in town partying with friends and plans to drive the five hours back north to live his life? Probably not going to work. And why would you want it to? You deserve someone closer, more available.

10. Either of you are heavy drinkers or drug users.
When someone is on drugs, or drinking, they are not the person they were born to be. They are not functioning like a healthy member of society. And they are in the process of numbing their emotions and their reality. To fall in love under the influence, or to fall in love with someone who is excessively under the influence would be like falling in love with a fraud. They are not real. You know nothing about them. And when they sober up? They may be unrecognizable.

11. He has a circumstance or situation which keeps him from connecting with you.
Soulmates may have skeletons in their closet, but they don’t have circumstance which keep them from enjoying who you are and what you have to offer. They are available. Maybe not 24/7. But a good enough amount of the time that you healthily need them to be. If he has a son that takes up all his time or a job that he’s addicted to, chances are he may not be emotionally available for you. People who love you, make time for you.

12. He only wants sex.
Sex is not love. If he’s the one, he will love you and want to make love to you all the time. But that should not be the ONLY thing he wants. You have far more to offer, and the right man will recognize that and love the whole package. And please! Don’t be fooled by the sensation of hot, passionate, deep, meaningful sex. Any two people with chemistry and attraction can have that. If that’s all you want, fine. But that alone is not the basis for a healthy relationship.

13. He never wants sex.
If he’s the one, he will love you and want to make love to you all the time. Or, almost all the time. Or as much as you healthily need so that you never feel starved for sex. Libidos are tricky things. Some of us have strong libidos, some of us don’t. The trick in knowing if he’s right, is that he wants it about as much as you.

14. He comes right out and says, “I’m not the one.”
(or a variant of that, as in, “you’re too good for me,” “We’re not supposed to be together,” etc.) Listen to him. He’s telling you something. Whether it’s a game or a manipulation or not. Take EVERYTHING he says at face value. Why? Because you don’t play games. Not playing games or falling prey to them will teach him quickly that whatever he says, he better mean, because you will only communicate on a fair playing field where things spoken are as they are meant to be. So don’t overlook his comment and think, “he doesn’t know what he wants,” or, “maybe he secretly wants this…” That will cause you to get embroiled into a certain manner of communicating that is dysfunctional. And let’s be honest, if he doesn’t know what he wants or if he can’t communicate his wants and needs maturely, then why the heck do you want to a have a relationship with him?

15. You have to chase after and stalk him.
If you have to chase after or stalk or watch someone, they’re not the one. This is harassment. It is trying to force a relationship with an unwilling or unavailable person. As one website explains: “Stalking is a form of mental assault, in which the perpetrator repeatedly, unwantingly, and disruptively breaks into the life-world of the victim, with whom they have no relationship (or no longer have).” Stop stalking. You are better than that. Someone will love on your terms. But you must first put the energy and effort into loving yourself.

16. You’re the only one giving 100% in the relationship. Although good relationships are not always fifty-fifty, like we grew up believing, they’re not hundred-zero either. They’re not even twenty-eighty. But they do fluctuate more closely in a healthy range of give and take. Balance is the key.

17. Everyday seems to be fraught with suffering.
Love is not suffering, despite Romeo and Juliet, Wuthering Heights, Doctor Zhivago or Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Novels and movies may romanticize the pain and suffering of love, but in reality, there’s nothing romantic about real suffering. Our lives are not little movies. We should never expect suffering for love to be normal or healthy. Suffering and pain are signals that there is something very wrong.

18. You just met him and this is your first, second, third, fourth, fifth or sixth date.
You cannot possible know if someone is “the one” right off the bat. Sorry. Cannot happen. You can certainly click with someone. But a deep, healthy, loving relationship is a lot more than a “click.” It develops over time. It’s a process. And to know if someone is “the one” or not takes many months, if not years.

19. After months of dating him, something doesn’t “feel” right.
Or after a few dates, if something doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t! Listen to your instincts. They are there for a reason. They help guide you. As bad as you want to be in a loving relationship, it’s more important to listen to your gut.

20. He comes with red flags.
Plain and simple: he’s not the one. Keep in mind though that a red flag is not “snores at night,” or “constantly blows his nose” or even “doesn’t dress in the latest fashion.” These are not red flags unless you are completely superficial. A red flag is “has a history of cheating,” “lies a lot or a little,” “never calls when he says he will,” “does drugs,” “still lives with mom,” and so on. There are also blaringly obvious red flags (he’s a meth addict, child molester, he’s in jail, etc.) and then, there’s your own personal red flags, things others may be able to deal with, but not you (he smokes pot occasionally, he’s 40 and never been married, he plays video games incessantly, he doesn’t make enough money). Despite the fact that person A may think all of those things are red flags, person B may not. Whatever the case, know your red flags, and if your guy’s got ‘em, he’s not the one!

Response from D

Posted on by l0velyjune
Reply

I hesitated to put this up, and yet I think it’s essential to know what healthy communication looks like. At least, what I’d like to believe is healthy. At any rate, here is D’s response….

T–

I understand your fears and why you feel the way you do. I have some similar fears, and I think the biggest difference for us is the way we respond to these fears. I’m afraid that the same problems I had with X will re-appear. That I won’t get any credit for what I do, or that if I do something a different way than you would have, it will be criticized. That you will start “keeping score” and never count any points for me only against me. That it will become “okay” to treat me badly because there will be some other justification for it. That is what I just dealt with, and so returning to a domestic union conjures all that. Those fears aren’t really based upon the way you’ve treated me, they’re about the way I’ve been treated in the past.

I’m both excited and a worried about the change. Not so much from my perspective, because I think I adapt to change fairly well, but to a degree for my daughter and to a degree for you. I think it is going to be hard on you. I think it is already hard on you. When we talk about the house, from the start, I’ve gotten mixed messages of commit, let’s do this, let’s do it now, versus all the fears that you just laid out in your email to me. I get that, although I think maybe sometimes I go more into “business” mode because I’m not sure which reaction I’m going to get from you. Does that make sense? And maybe it’s just the nature of it too. There is a basic “transactional” nature to it. I want to make you feel that I am being more than fair and protective of you, because I know how much you identify your house with your independence.

I know that we both want this, but I don’t think we are both going to feel 100% comfortable through the whole process. If we did, we’d be like 20 year olds doing it for the first time, and that is not who we are. I hope that we continue to be understanding of our respective baggage and help each other with it.

As for the kids and responsibilities, I am very prideful of taking care of my kids. We have talked about this before. I’m not perfect at it, and I may not do things exactly as you would (and vice versa), but I have done and will do a very good job of taking care of my kids whether we live at X Street, Y Street, or in a van down by the river (okay maybe that wouldn’t present such a high level of care). The point is that I don’t really want you to get involved in the day to day care of the kids beyond the occasional things we do to help each other out already. I don’t want you barefoot in the kitchen. And I certainly don’t want you pregnant. I never took that approach before, and I view us as even more independent of each other than my prior relationships.

I know you are going to stress during this process. I expect it. I know that will result in times where you need to crash, to be alone to re-generate, etc. And I will do my best to preserve and assist in you getting that time and those opportunities. I don’t want to do anything to hurt you or make you feel like you’ve got new responsibilities. If anything, I hope you feel I’m lifting some of your responsibilities. I’m sure it won’t go completely smoothly, but I do ask that you talk to me during it if you have concerns. Just keep in mind that I am a sensitive person, so if you speak negatively to me, I will get defensive and I will feel attacked. That’s my nature and it’s probably not going to change.

At any rate, I’m excited and scared, and the ratio of those two changes, but I tend to exist and express myself in the center. Despite my love of furniture and design, House Hunters International, and clothes, I’m a guy. But those emotions are there, and I appreciate that they are there for you too.

I do love you baby, and I want you to be happy and fulfilled and to feel loved. I don’t want to feel like you expect me to be perfect, and I don’t expect the same from you.

Okay, I feel like I’m starting to talk in circles now, so I’m going to stop…

Letter to D

Posted on by l0velyjune
Reply

I wanted to share with you a letter I wrote D, about our impending move in together.

I am starting out defensive:
I am deathly afraid that when you guys move in a huge burden will fall upon me to take care of three extra people.

Understand this: My ex husband (R) was a nightmare. He was only one individual and yet, I have flashbacks of those horrifying years. It’s not that he was overly messy (as long as he kept his junk in his office) but because his “job” and his computer were so much more a priority than anything else, it forced me to cook, clean the house, do the laundry, take care of two babies singlehandedly, do the bills, the entertaining, take care of the outside of the house, and maintain damn near everything else. I resented him horribly for this, and yet, it prepared me for a life on my own where I ended up having to do all this anyway. And I guess because I do all this anyway (include work two jobs now too), I don’t feel as though I can take on one more single new burden. I am already maxed out.

I think if R had been a good man and shown me that men are supportive, I might have less fear about this move, but I don’t have that past to go by. I am really scared, D. And so,  I would like to see us more as roommates, responsible for our own living space, responsible for our own children’s messes, meal, laundry, care, etc. . I don’t want to fall into traditional roles where I clean the house, cook and take care of the kids, while you do yard work. I don’t want there to be a huge disparity between our chores, and I absolutely don’t want to hear that your job is so important that you really can’t “help” as much as you should.

If you were living on your own, you would have no choice but to take care of all this stuff alone, despite your job. And in my mind, I hope that you continue to feel as though you are “living on your own.” At least until I am able to feel safe that I won’t be run into the ground. I am sorry to ask this of you, but I beg you to understand how important it is for me.

Perhaps you think I’m being pessimistic, and maybe I am. But I have good reason. I am coming from a very bad marriage where no man ever helped me and because of that I may have an unnatural fear of unions. I don’t always see us as a beautiful family coming together to share a life together in peace and bliss. I sometimes see a threatening landscape of piles of laundry, screaming, unmanageable kids, food wars, fights and a deeply corrosive loss of privacy and personal space. I am also coming from nearly seven years of aloneness. I sometimes feel like a wild dog that no longer remembers its domesticated life.

Switching to insecure:
In that sense, I do not always have the best ways of dealing with things. I am unable to place boundaries around myself sometimes and then I end up paying a price for not meeting my needs (i.e. time alone). Remember too, that as it stands now, my house IS my boundary.  I oftentimes feel like the only way to solve anything is by running away, escaping, hiding, digging a hole in the sand and sticking my head in. As far as I have come, I fear I have not come far enough. I’m sometimes afraid I am not up to the task of coming together. Sometimes I think we should not move in together– it’s too dangerous a risk, I’m too immature, I’m not ready, I’m no longer “able” to live with someone. I am afraid you will finally see me exposed, for who and what I really am. You will see my daily routine and think, this isn’t the girl I met two years ago. You will see me ugly, in pain, BORING, night after night. All my beauty will be stripped of me. I will not be able to hide ANY of my flaws, my stomach issues, my periodic fits of sadness, my anger for R, the kids, my laziness, my addiction to the computer, the TV, coffee, whatever!

I feel like I will hugely let you down.

Expressing hope:
There is, of course, the flip side to all this…the feeling that I am doing the most natural and perfect thing I should be doing. I have found the only man who I truly love and get along with and respect. I feel that us coming together is the next step and that it needs to be taken, lest we remain eternally “dating.” I want to take the risk, I want to see for myself if I am strong enough. I want us to come together. I am thrilled to embark on all these new and exhilarating plans– I love change to the house, redoing rooms, clearing out the old, making way for the new. I like the possibilities of a redesign or a move to a new house. I like that you will come “home” every night, to me. I like that I can offer you this house and offer your kids a community, I like the idea that FINALLY there will another girl around here :) and that your kids will bring their own little adventures and idiosyncrasies to our lives.

A plea:
But remember, as far as I have come in my life, I have never come this far. I have never reached this point. When we first met, I didn’t trust you. I believed all men were liars. You said you didn’t lie. I thought that was a lie. And yet, little by little, day by day, you convinced me otherwise, and I was transformed. You helped me believe something new– that there are men in this world that are honest. And I love you for that and I want you to work your magic again, here and now, with this move. We are once again at the precipice of having my fears confirmed or relinquished. I am a girl who has never seen a pretty red balloon that didn’t pop in her face.  I only have my faulty, dysfunctional, miserable past to compare this to.  

So, it’s not that I am asking you to do anything different or be anyone different than you already are– well with the obvious exception of being the absolute most perfect roommate in the world (OK, I know that won’t happen, and trust me, I don’t expect it). But I am simply hoping that by virtue of your good and kind nature, you prove me completely wrong and squash my fears. Until then……..I beg you, be patient with me, D. Be understanding. I do get very self-centered and egocentric when I think I need to be in “survival mode.” I think we all do. Burdens placed upon any of us will do that.

xo

Awkward situations & compromises

Posted on by l0velyjune
Reply

So yesterday, D’s parents wanted to celebrate his son’s birthday out at a restaurant before they went on vacation. I’m not so sure his parents personally ever invite me to these things as much as D just “tells” them that he’s bringing me along. And of course, the ex is invited. I’m not all that great under these types of circumstances. His parents tend to treat me like the “other woman,” as if I stole their innocent son away from his loving wife. That couldn’t be further from the truth. The ex left D for another man, divorced him, got engaged to this new guy, threatened to move the kids to another state, and then suddenly broke up with the new guy after realizing it was just a crush, and had the nerve to ask D to get back together (I met D six months after his divorce; six months into our relationship, when she said she wanted him back, I said, “go back to her” and meant it, but he had no intentions of ever doing that.) Still, D’s parents invite her over for Christmas dinner (and not me) and sit him at the table beside her as if everything is just the way it used to be.

Anyway, so I go to say hello to D’s dad out in front of the restaurant, and go up to kiss him on the cheek, and he’s looking stone cold straight ahead. By that point I had entered his personal space and couldn’t back out, so I said to him, in a kind of funny way, “I’m trying to kiss you.” He awkwardly leans down and gives me his cheek and after a quick tap, I went inside, mortified.

That shook me up a little, and yet, there was no recovery in sight. At the table, I end up sitting next to D, but across the table from his ex, who, I have to say, was being friendly enough, complimenting me on my hair, etc. But really, just chattering on about superficial things like money, clothes, make-up and so on. She’s a vibrant, dramatic Italian girl, very beautiful, but, a little shallow, and I have to say it, stupid for not being so grateful for D when she had him. So, she starts chattering on about D coming over and eating leftovers out of her fridge, and asking him to take pictures of her and their son, calling him by little affectionate terms like “Hey D-boy, would you pass me the salt?” At one point she mentions a couple instances when D got sick in the past, (“Did he tell you about the time when he broke out into hives from eating lobster?” and then there was,  ”D doesn’t like spicy food, in fact, he’ll never eat garlic, and I put garlic on everything…” I actually felt like saying, “D actually loves food with garlic on it, as long as he doesn’t know it’s there.” But I kept my mouth shut.)

One hour later it was over, everyone said their goodbyes and we left, heading over my brother and sister-in-law’s house for yet another birthday party. But by this point, I felt completely beat up. I felt uncomfortable, awkward, unwanted, and alien. All my old insecurities came out (I don’t belong here, these people don’t like me, the ex is so much more beautiful than me, I’m a failure). I wanted to bury my head in the sand and hide. I wanted to run away. I certainly didn’t want to stay a second longer than I had to.

I was pissed off that D was over his ex’s eating leftovers. Where were his boundaries? I don’t go over my ex’s house and go scavenging through his fridge. OK, so it’s still D’s house where she’s living (they haven’t been able to sell it yet), but still…

Then, I thought I might be overreacting. Not looking at the bigger picture and being grateful.  Most of our life together runs smoothly and no relationship can be perfect, right? The trouble is, when you remarry, or date a divorced man with kids, part of the package is having to deal with his parents AND his ex wife. As much as I would love it to be “just us,” that will never happen. I’m in a relationship with her as well. And every kid party or family gathering, I have to deal with her whether I like it or not.

The issue of discomfort here is coming from my own level of immaturity. The kid in me is saying, “No! No! No! I don’t want to ever eat my veggies or tie my shoes or put on that party dress! I want to do what I want, when I want, with whom I want. Period! Now leave me alone.”  The adult in me, however, has to have compassion and has to be able to compromise and weigh the scales and enter into a few awkward situations for the sake of her partner. A healthy relationship takes having to bite the bullet sometimes. It’s very important to D that I accompany him to these family events. He feels as though it is support for him and acceptance of his family (despite that they don’t accept me 100%). And here’s the important thing: none of my core values are being jeopardized or relinquished in this situation. I am still intact. My values are still able to come first. The problem isn’t really occurring between D and I either (although he really needs to stay out of his ex’s fridge!). So….as much as I am bitching here about having to put up with tips from the ex on what D does and doesn’t eat, and socially awkward moments between his parents and I,  I DO see the bigger picture. I don’t like it, but I am willing to let it drop.

And on that note, here’s my unsolicited advice: write down an example of how you have compromised in a situation and done something you really didn’t want to do. Did you go to a party with a friend when you really didn’t want to? Did you get drunk with your PoA even though you hate to drink and it makes you feel like crap? Did you have sex with your PoA even though you swore you wouldn’t? Examine if that “thing” you did went against your CORE VALUES or not. If it did, that’s a pretty good indicator that it was the wrong kind of compromise. If it didn’t go against your core values and YOU stayed intact, how did it make you feel? Awkward? Uncomfortable? Bitter? Angry? Do you think the “child” in you is overreacting and that maybe, like me, you simply need to tell yourself “grow up!”? Just because something feels awkward or uncomfortable doesn’t mean the entire relationship is “wrong” or bad. But knowing your values will help you recognize the difference.

You are entitled to something better than scraps

Posted on by l0velyjune
9

  • When I was a teenager, I let a very unattractive kid, with brown broken teeth kiss me because I thought I could do no better.
  • When I was in my twenties, I went to a community college, not because I couldn’t afford better, but because I believed I couldn’t academically do better.
  • When I went out in the world to get a job, I worked as a waitress because I didn’t believe I was smart enough to work anywhere else.
  • When I was a woman, I married a man I’d only known for six month. I married him on the side of a highway, no white dress, no wedding reception, no gifts because I didn’t believe I was worth a big, beautiful wedding or a man who would love me after six months.
  • And when I was divorced and newly dating, I fell in love with a diner cook who never showered or brushed his teeth, who smoked pot, wore dirty clothes and never wanted to have sex with me because I though he was the best I could find at my age.

When you believe you have value, when you believe you are worth not just a little but A LOT, you do not accept dirty, broken teeth, waiting tables in a beer and shots joint, or people who never shower or want to make love. You do not put up with neglect, disrespect, abuse, mind games, cruelty or anything else from someone who is dishing it out.

When you believe in yourself, you teach people how to treat you with respect. When you do not believe in yourself, you teach people that they can treat you anyway they want.

Curing love addiction is as simple as this: having a sense of entitlement. When you believe you are entitled to better treatment, you get it. Something in you changes and you no longer accept less. A perfect example of this is food. Even at my lowest, I would never eat food from a trash can because firstly, I can afford fresh food. Secondly, eating food from the trash doesn’t even make sense unless I were homeless, and might possibly die if I didn’t eat it. But lastly, and most importantly, I feel entitled to healthy, fresh, good tasting food that not only keeps me alive, but keeps me healthy and happy too.

So, if I can feel entitled about food, why not the people I allowed into my life? Why not feel entitled about work, education, income, friends, and so on?

Here’s one reason why: “entitlement” has had such a bad connotation to it. The rich have a sense of entitlement. Famous people have a sense of entitlement. Proud people have a sense of entitlement. We imagine individuals with their hands out, expecting more, more, more. And quite frankly, that is an ugly picture. Even in Christian and other western religions, it’s frowned upon. According to some religious teachings, we’re supposed to be humble and grateful for whatever we’re given. We’re supposed to be happy with scraps.

But I think that’s a detrimental belief, especially when it concerns close, intimate relationships. When we lack a sense of entitlement to who we should meet and fall in love with, when we have no clear sense of what we deserve, we accept darn near anything! We end up with scraps.

And let’s face it, scraps don’t taste good. And eating them is embarrassing. And being seen eating them is even more of an embarrassment. And so, you suddenly have this huge disconnect. At first you were grateful to have scraps. But then, when the scraps left a really bad taste in your mouth and left you feeling ashamed and worthless, you suddenly started to suffer and feel pain. You were torn between your belief in being humble, and this instinctual need in you to have better for yourself.

Love addiction is when we are at this point, we recognize we are eating scraps, it makes us sick to our stomaches, but we stay anyway.

Or, conversely, love addiction is when we do not realize we could be eating something better than scraps, (because we’ve eaten them all our lives) and so we keep eating them, thinking they’re great sustenance , but every time we take a bite, we want to vomit. We have no recognition that eating is not meant to be like this.

So, how do you create a sense of healthy entitlement? Well, you start by creating a set of values for yourself. Start to define what hurts you and what makes you happy. Make a list. And place boundaries around yourself. Let the good in; keep the bad out. The more you know yourself, the more you stick to your values, the more you begin to demand better for yourself. It’s a natural progression that comes from within and changes your whole life.

Someone on the forums recently posted this amazing quote: How empty of me, to be so full of you. So, my advice today is to fill yourself with a new sense of entitlement. Focus on your worth. Grab a copy of The Self-Esteem Workbook and start working!

Taking off the masks

Posted on by l0velyjune
1

Fear of closeness. Fear of losing my identity. Fear of intimacy. Fear of being too exposed. Fear of commitment. Fear of vulnerability. Fear of losing me.

D and I are celebrating our two year anniversary on Saturday, and I can honestly say, I have never had a more peaceful, loving, passionate and profoundly happy relationship with any man than I have with this one. I have never had such stability of emotion with anyone else over a significant period of time—two years is a long time in the world of LA. And I have never had such certainty as I do with D, that he is the one for me, and that I wouldn’t ever want to lose him. Likewise, he feels the same. It’s a good healthy match.

And so, we have been meeting with contractors regarding an addition that we’ve been planning to build onto my house, so as to take the next step: moving in together. We need enough bedrooms for all the kids and enough space—albeit cramped space—temporarily, until we decide whether to move to a bigger house or build a second story onto this one. We’ve been talking about this for a good long year. We’ve had eight contractors come out and give us estimates. We have finally decided on one. And with that finality, all the fears I’ve listed above have suddenly decided to creep out of the woodwork and surround me in my dreams and waking life.

I’m scared.

I’ve been on my own for almost seven years now. Almost as long as I was married. And not only that, but in the past, I ONLY dated avoidant types. What does that mean? It means that despite the fact that I had been married for seven years, I was married to an avoidant—someone who hid in his back office while I had full reign of the house. Someone who never really placed any emotional or physical burden on me. Let’s face it, when you’re married to an avoidant you’re really not married at all. You’re still single, you still have most of your freedom, you still have full control over your life (and theirs—at least you think so because you’re bossing them around all the time) and you can still be immature, shallow, alone, narcissistic, and unconnected. You have all the time and space you think you don’t need. Of course, the price you pay for all that time and space that you are condemned to experience with an avoidant is that there is no emotional intimacy between the two of you. There is no real bond. You are existing parallel to each other, but not moving any closer, not only because he can’t handle intimacy and closeness (which, of course, you are incessantly begging him for), but because YOU can’t handle it either.

We align ourselves with avoidant people because we cannot handle intimacy ourselves. As odd as it sounds, even though the lifespan of a relationship with an avoidant is spent begging them for more intimacy, and pleading with them to open up and connect and spend more time with us, the truth is, we wouldn’t know what to do with intimacy if we had it. The struggle for intimacy is what we are interested in. The search for intimacy is what we are capable of. It’s the closest we can come; it offers just enough intimacy to give the illusion of normalcy. And that’s enough for us. But the fact of the matter is, this is not intimacy and it’s not commitment. It is a defense mechanism we use to protect ourselves from deeper intimacy and vulnerability.

You see, real intimacy demands that you expose yourself fully to another human being. It requires that you are vulnerable, defenseless. And to LAs, who have been raised believing that defense mechanisms and protection from others are the key to survival (because, let’s be honest, we didn’t have the best of childhoods), vulnerability doesn’t make sense to us. It is our inherent nature therefore, based on being abandoned, neglected, harmed or abused, to survive in this way. Dating avoidant people, thus, allows us remain safe and insulated from harm.

But it also leaves us suffering, cold, alone.

Eventually, we recognize that keeping “safe” isn’t all that conducive with happiness and connectedness to another person. And so we set out to become healthy and to find a healthy partner who treats us well, and if we are lucky and put a lot of hard work into it, we achieve our goals. And for the first time ever, we are truly happy that we have found someone that finally treats us with love and kindness. But with that, we realize the crux of the problem. That with healthiness, kindness and love comes a demand for intimacy that we are simply not accustomed to. If we want healthy love, from a healthy partner, we must know how to give it. To do that means exposing ourselves and tearing down the walls that previously protected us.

I hate that I have to admit this, but I am still in “protection” mode. I do not want to be fully exposed. I don’t want him to see me without my “masks.” I don’t have many anymore. I have been taking them off one by one, but it’s been a slow process. And well it should be. The “old me” is still in there healing from a lifetime of havoc. When he moves in, I will have nowhere to hide, I won’t be able to go at my own pace, taking my masks off slowly, when I’m ready.

Will he still love me if he sees the real me with my very real, very ugly issues?

Will I love me, despite my own vulnerability?

I’m not sure. It’s like having sex with the lights on—I can’t feel sexy when I can see that he can see all my physical flaws. At least with the lights off I can pretend I’ve got the body of a twenty-year-old. Or at least I can pretend that he can imagine I have the body of a twenty-year-old.

Despite the fact that he sleeps over sometimes four nights a week, I am still able to recover from his visits once he goes. I can take my masks off and be myself. I have that time to relax. I don’t want to lose that. I think I still want to do it with the lights off.

On the other hand, I know it’s a price I want to pay. I’ve worked hard to be here. I love him. And I trust that I will adapt to the change. In a sense, it’s the denouement I’ve been waiting for, it’s the removal of the final mask. It’s proof that I have succeeded in my life and accomplished my goals—to have a normal, loving, functioning relationship. And yet, more realistically, it’s the beginning of a new journey that will have ups and downs and ugly parts and beautiful parts. But I suppose that’s what life is about. Bruce Barton wrote in his book The Man Nobody Knows, “When you’re through changing, you’re through.” I believe that. And I believe that protecting ourselves, though it makes us feel safe, can stunt our growth. It can keep us from becoming something bigger than what we are today. Exposing ourselves, letting down our walls, taking risks, challenging our fears and changing keeps us alive. It keeps the lights on, even when we don’t want to see.

Filling the “void”

Posted on by l0velyjune
14

There’s a hole in a donut. There’s a hole in a car tire. There’s NOT a hole in you.

I need to come out and say that right from the start, because I believe it’s one of the most important lessons any addict needs to learn in order to fully recover. It’s a Hollywood fallacy. It’s misinformation. Somewhere along the line, maybe in some self-help book, we were taught to believe that we have a void inside us, and that notion is, simply, wrong.

Part of my recovery, part of many traditional recovery plans, was learning how to “fill the void,” that aching, empty, bottomless pit inside your soul, the “hungry heart,” as Susan Peabody calls it, that feeling of needing SOMETHING that if you don’t find it or get it or stuff yourself with it, it keeps you from feeling whole and complete. So, being the insecure, unhealthy people we are, we tend to fill that void with garbage—we latch onto destructive people, get involved in inappropriate relationships, take drugs, have sex, smoke pot, spend money, overeat, drink. All the while believing that if we found the right stuff to fill ourselves with, that empty feeling would go away.

But it doesn’t.

And the truth is, anyone who has ever suffered, anyone who has ever lost a loved one, there is a real, physical feeling of emptiness. If I pay close attention when I am sad, I can actually FEEL a void in my heart. And yet, I ask you to believe that there isn’t one.

What if that empty feeling was not an actual empty space inside you that needed to be filled? What if there was no void? What if that empty feeling is just part of you?

What if you sat in a room with it and experienced it instead of trying to stuff something in it, hide it or cover it up with love, sex, drugs, or food? What if you just accepted it like a flaw, like a dimple or a slight indentation in your skin? Something you cannot get rid of; something you must make peace with and accept?

I suggested this idea to someone on the boards, and the response I got was, “Thanks. That would be nice. But there really is a void there. I know it, I feel it and it’s the driving force behind all my actions.” And yet, individuals who have lost limbs still believe and feel their limb exists. Individuals who believe in God have seen and felt him, even though he cannot physically be seen or felt.

My point? If you can imagine that God exists, you can imagine that a void doesn’t.

So this is what I did. I locked myself in my room for four days straight one week and I sat with it. For the first time ever, instead of curling up and rocking, trying to avoid the emptiness, I let it in. I told myself, “This is a part of me, so I will experience it, know it and accept it.” And I did. And every time it crept up on me, that feeling of being hungry for something, anything, (and there were lots of times, even after the four days in lockdown), I said, “This is a trick.” And it was. It was and is a psychological trick. And eventually, just like making peace with a missing limb, I started to be OK with the idea that, even if it felt like there was nothing there, there really was. I started to understand that nothing, after all, was missing. There was no void. I am whole. And once I got that, I stopped trying to fill myself with garbage. Suddenly, there was no point.

‎”There are only two types of people in the world: those who try to stuff their inner emptiness, and those very rare precious beings who try to see the inner emptiness. Those who try to stuff it remain empty, frustrated. They go on collecting garbage, their whole life is futile and fruitless. Only the other kind, the very precious people who try to look into their inner emptiness without any desire to stuff it, become meditators.” –Osho

Today’s obvious advice: sit with the empty feeling as long as you can. Experience it. You’re not going to like it at first. But you’ll adapt. You’ll acclimate yourself. Human beings are resilient. Love addicts are especially resilient.

Liberate yourself with the “unfriend” feature

Posted on by l0velyjune
Reply

Today marks a significant moment in my own personal LA history…I actually UNFRIENDED my ex. I never checked his page, I doubt he ever checked mine. He had all his info blocked from me and I had all my info blocked from him. And yet, I don’t think either one of us had the guts to unfriend the other based simply on courtesy. No one wanted to hurt the other’s feelings.

Well, forget about courtesy at least in the realm of social networking. Why we feel an obligation to certain people is beyond me.

In the case of my ex, every once in awhile his profile picture would rotate onto my friends list and I was reminded of him. And as insignificant as that was, it still irked me. I really don’t want a constant reminder of my past transgressions. Who does? And with Facebook, you can’t ever let the past be the past. People from yore crop up constantly, and I don’t think it’s healthy.

In the good old days, if you ended a relationship, you ended it. You cut all ties, you said your goodbyes and you never saw that person again. It hurt for awhile, sure, but at least you had the luxury of time and distance between you that resolved any left over pain. You were able to heal, and more importantly, you were able to forgive yourself and move on. In today’s world it seems you no longer have that luxury. You’re tied to people through social networking sites whether you want to be or not (I’m sure I’ll see his little profile pic pop up now more than ever on “may we suggest a friend?” Heck, no.)

Anyway, I’ve been wanting to unfriend the ex for a LONG time but I didn’t have the heart. But forget about heart. This is business. I am allowed to reject people, as long as I do it kindly. I am allowed to make decisions based on my well-being. I am allowed to create boundaries and see to it that those boundaries are being respected. I hate to say it, but it’s true, people are expendable.

Certain people in this world you owe your life to (i.e. your children), but generally speaking you do not owe anyone anything but a little common courtesy. And this is part of the trouble with co-dependent and addictive thinking. We never want to hurt anyone’s feelings. We feel obligated to people, no matter how rotten they are to us, just because they’re rotten people, or because of no fault of their own. Whatever the reason, we feel accountable. After 8 months of dating, my ex broke up with me by saying he never loved me. Ouch! That was hard has heck to hear. And though I no longer blame him or feel any anger toward him and totally get that sometimes two people simply don’t work, I now recognize that I don’t owe him anything,  especially  a connection on Facebook.

So, maybe he’ll wake up one morning and decide to check my profile page and see what I’ve been up to, and when that happens, and the page comes up blank, he may feel a tiny shred of rejection. I would feel a little bad about that. I still have a heart. But maybe, just maybe, he’ll feel a sudden sense of relief himself that the relationship has finally come to its proper end. Who knows! Whatever the case may be, I feel a little freer today, like I just experienced a really relaxing, de-stressing massage at a five-star spa.

My unsolicited advice today? Do a little spring cleaning. See what you can throw away, who you can kiss goodbye. How does that make you feel?

Revisiting the past

Posted on by l0velyjune
4

I’m very excited. After two years, Pernille Rose Grønkjær’s new documentary “Love Addict” will be released in 2011. If you’d like to watch the trailer, I’ve posted the youtube link below.

I haven’t watched it in quite a while and it’s very DIFFICULT to do so. The girl crying on the bench is me about two and a half years ago. The guy sitting next to me was my PoA. It’s all very yucky to remember where I was and what I was going through. And yet, it is a very large part of who I am and who I’ve become. And I feel as though I need to remember from time to time, so that I never go back.

I will be meeting Pernille and the producer in NYC this week for a private screening, all expenses paid. I will be one of the first to see the 80-minute documentary. And despite being quite excited, I am a little nervous to see what Pernille has done with all the stories and how she has portrayed us all. What’s more, I am hoping she has not created only the ugly side of love addiction, the drama-driven side, for the sake of ratings. There is a completely conventional, boring, unentertaining side to it all and it’s called RECOVERY. People do get better. People do change. Will that be portrayed? Will that even be mentioned?

When I watch the trailer, I look like a completely hopeless case. And yet, this film was shot after I had had the courage to leave my PoA and no longer “date” him. I, of course, was still friends with him. I was still depending on him emotionally. But the relationship was pretty much over. I was alone when they filmed us. I’m certain my “personal” story will not come through entirely. But a collective story of love addiction, of which I am one small part, will hopefully come through tastefully and as realistic as possible. I’ll let you all know next week!

xo