It really wasn’t about me!


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Written by Author, Dear Thor

My Aha moment happened when I realized that it really wasn’t ever about me.

About 11 months ago, we began dating fast and furious from the start, until suddenly and without warning he broke up with me. Broken hearted I tried to move on, but he refused to leave me alone. He spent 8 months of “just kinda” pursuing me. Basically the single worst nightmare for this former bad boy magnet. Harder to kick then cigarettes, and far more dangerous. Illusive texts, calls and dinners only heightened his intrigue. He mastered the ability of giving me “just enough” before I’d realized he was actually giving me nothing at all. It became so predictable I could set my clock to it. Sometimes my life felt like a bad re-run from an old 80’s sitcom playing on loop every night on TBS. “I can’t commit,” he’d say. “Great,” I’d respond, “now leave me alone and have a nice life.”

But he never would. I’d be uninterested and stand offish, he’d pursue me harder. I’d let down my guard, he’d run. But 4 weeks ago something changed. I was back from a trip when he suddenly pursued me like never before. Calling me multiple times thought out the day and taking me out almost every night. When I asked the reason for his sudden change he responded, “because I’m back now.”

Then those same dreaded words I’d secretly hoped I’d never hear again came out of his mouth, “things have been so amazing with us but I’m starting to have a fear of commitment…again.”

But then I asked a question I had never asked him before, “have you had this feeling with any of the other girls you’ve dated in the past 3 years?”

To which he answered, “yes, every single one.”

Suddenly, it all became so clear. His past record spoke for itself. Every time he felt himself getting closer to a woman, he’d flinch and tell himself, “she’s not the right girl.” Burned by his 1st marriage, he actively chose to avoid dealing with the pain. Years later, that choice would end up having a bigger impact on his life today then his marriage ever did.

lit bulbA lightbulb went off in my head it’s not me. It’s amazing how a single phrase had the power to set me free. Hearing the words, instantaneously discredited the story I’d been telling myself for the last 11 months. I’d justified his wishy-washy attitude thinking it was a reflection of me not being good enough. When in fact, it had nothing to do with me. Why hadn’t this option even crossed my mind before? This revelation stopped me dead in my tracks. After a zillion relationships, you’d think I’d have learned something. Well, clearly I hadn’t. What a rookie mistake I’d made. How could I have let a guy’s own issues chip away at my self-confidence? Ok, so if this wasn’t about me being good enough for him suddenly the question became is he good enough for me? And this question gave me a sinking feeling. I’ve always admired character, above all else, but his character always remained in question.

I’ve probably loved this man from the moment I met him but I find myself at a crossroads. If I was in my 20’s, I’d want to fix him, like I have with so many other ex boyfriends. But suddenly I’m left with the question, what about me? When does he show up for me?

While it’s lovely we share this special bond, but if his own issues prevent him from actually being able to see the real me, then what’s the point?

My friend, Shauna, said to me, “I have no doubt that if you walk away and let him go, there will be someone better for you because the Universe always gives us exactly what we need.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because why not?” she replied. I must admit she makes a pretty strong argument. Then she asked me if I could picture him as the father of my children. Ha! I can’t even picture him as my steady boyfriend, let alone the father of my children!

It occurs to me that the man he really is and the man who I thought he could be are actually two entirely different people. So, if the man I’m in love with doesn’t actually exist, then staying with him or breaking up with him, in reality, appear to be the same thing. In both scenarios, I’m alone. Either way, I’m not with the person I’m in love with. By walking away I’m not really loosing anything, at all. How can you lose something you never had to begin with? So it appears my options are the following: more of the same or let him go and find someone better. Worst case scenario, if I don’t find anyone better, I can just find another man (like him) and simply choose to fall in love with his potential instead of his reality.

The greatest benefit of having a wildly vivid imagination is that it’s entirely possible that every man I meet can be the “one.”Thus, making the likelihood of finding happiness with someone else, an absolute guarantee.

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My Kamikaze Mission (otherwise known as my last relationship)


Written by Author, Dear Thor

Take lawyer dude, Fred, who asked me the inevitable 3rd date question, “when was your last relationship?” I retell the sordid story of betrayal like a stoic war vet, who just feels lucky to have made it through in one piece. Midway through the story he blurted out, “wow. And you still went back to him even after__, sounds like you were on a real Kamikaze mission.” Suddenly, I realized how absurd this story must sound about the girl that runs towards (not away from) danger? Like a Kamikaze pilot, we both knew it was a suicide mission, but proceed anyway.

Growing up in California, I was taught from a young age what to do in the event of an earthquake. In school we practiced earthquake safety drills every couple of months. Have I done one too many earthquake drills that I’ve somehow adopted the “stop, drop, and take cover” protocol to past relationships as well?

 

Hello my name is the Author and I’m a commitment phobe….


Written By Author, Dear Thor
No, I’m not referring to the men I date.
I’m referring to an even more obscure and misunderstood sub-set of the dating population. I’m talking about a group (made up entirely of women). They are terrified of commitment, or rather, the fear of committing themselves to the wrong guy. I have a confession. I’m not only in this Club. I’m the President. I’ve been screaming foul from the sidelines of relationships for simply far too long now. I’m a serial monogamist, going from relationship to relationship. From the outside, it might appear that I’m ready for love, but I’m just dating different versions of the wrong men. Take my word for it, if you’re looking to date the wrong men, bad boys are only too quick to help. (High reward, low commitment). But dating a bad boy is a fast track to nowhere, which coincidentally, is also the perfect beard to mask this gal’s fear of commitment. When you hook up with a bad boy, rest assured, everyone’s too busy noticing the mysterious rebel thing to pay much attention to you. Oddly, you appear (by and large) pretty together in comparison to the company you keep.

My default dating setting has always been set to the wrong men. And bad boys come pre-packaged with a fast approaching expiration date. Like driving your car with the emergency brake permanently on. Putting myself out there always felt like I was a trapeze artist performing without a safety net. Dating bad boys ensured that I’d never again have to put myself out there. I could outsmart the game of love. But by dating bad boys I was only disqualifying myself from the game. Most of my friends would describe my type as “tall, dark, mysterious and very troubled.” If he looks like the type of guy who would have a problem getting through the TSA at the airport, you’ve hit the nail on the head.

I studied abroad in Florence during college. His name was Pete, he was mysterious, had a bad attitude and thought he was too cool for school. Naturally I was drawn to him. On the first day of the program, we started dating. Having heard about “my new major boyfriend” my bestie Jamie came to Italy to visit me. Jamie stood in front of the Duomo (the hang out spot for all the American students studying abroad). Looking for his friends, Jamie scanned the crowds of hundreds of students, before becoming splinter focused on one boy standing across the street. To our mutual friend, Jamie announced, “That’s Pete isn’t it? I’ve never seen a picture of him but I can just tell by the way he’s walking that this guy is the biggest d-bag. And knowing our girl as well as I do, I could spot her type from a mile away.” 

“Bingo,“our mutual friend responded.

That’s the thing about patterns, eventually you grow up and grow out of them. Dating bad boys is like re-reading the same book and hoping each time for a new ending. So, today, I’m reading a new book. And, I’ll let you know how this one ends.

High Emotional vs. High Financial Maintenance


A man once told me all women are either high “emotional” or “financial” maintenance.

And certain women are both.

He told me that men are simple creatures. They just want to be fed and feel appreciated. He went on to say most men prefer a woman who is high “financial” maintenance because (as long as you have money) there’s always an easy solution. If you throw enough money at the problem–she’s be happy.

But then there’s the women classified as high “emotional” maintenance. These women are much trickier to please. She’d rather you be “present and in the moment” then shower her with material things. She wants to know “what you’re thinking.” She’s a never-ending challenge. It takes a certain type of warrior to commit to this undertaking. Thus, the search for my warrior continues…..

Strong Women Wear…


On Bad Boys…


Wise Words….


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Every woman should have…


To Realize…


TO REALIZE: The value of a sister.
Ask someone who doesn’t have one.

TO REALIZE: The value of ten years
Ask a newly divorced couple.

TO REALIZE: The value of four years
Ask a graduate.

TO REALIZE: the value of one year:
Ask a student who has failed a final exam.

TO REALIZE: The value of nine months:
Ask a mother who gave birth to a still-born.

TO REALIZE: The value of one month:
Ask a mother who has given birth to a premature baby.

TO REALIZE: The value of one week:
Ask an editor of a weekly newspaper.

TO REALIZE: The value of one hour:
Ask the lovers who are waiting to meet.

                                                                               TO REALIZE: The value of one minute: Ask a person who has missed the train, bus or plane.

TO REALIZE: The value of a second:
Ask a person who has survived an accident.

TO REALIZE: The value of a friend:
Lose one.                                     Time waits for no oneTreasure every moment you have.

Bad boys…and the girls who should know better


I’m envious of the girls who dated one or two bad boys before they learned this lesson…

Some of us were a little slower on the uptake…

I may be late to the party–but I’m here now.