In his words...

Normally, I am all about creating my own art.  My own words.  I enjoy sharing my thoughts on this stuff which you guys are courageous enough to read and share and argue back with.  I love that.  And thank you.

Today, however, I stumbled across this gem on the Internet, and knew immediately that what he said was better than anything I had to say.  The post below is from David Mikus, posted in a public note on Facebook, and so I am forwarding it on.  Don't get caught up in his use of pronouns - I think these sage words apply across the board, to women and men, in any and all kinds of relationships.

Most of all, I love #7 on this list, and this quote specifically:

The feminine spirit is about change and emotion and like a storm her emotions will roll in and out, and as you remain strong and unjudging she will trust you and open her soul to you… DON’T RUN-AWAY WHEN SHE’S UPSET. Stand present and strong and let her know you aren’t going anywhere. Listen to what she is really saying behind the words and emotion.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.  Lots of wisdom in here.

Peace and love,
leah

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Obviously, I’m not a relationship expert. But there’s something about my divorce being finalized this week that gives me perspective of things I wish I would have done different… After losing a woman that I loved, and a marriage of almost 37 years, here’s the advice I wish I would have had

1) Never stop courting. Never stop dating. NEVER EVER take that woman for granted. When you asked her to marry you, you promised to be that man that would OWN HER HEART and to fiercely protect it. This is the most important and sacred treasure you will ever be entrusted with. SHE CHOSE YOU. Never forget that, and NEVER GET LAZY in your love. 

2) PROTECT YOUR OWN HEART. Just as you committed to being the protector of her heart, you must guard your own with the same vigilance. Love yourself fully, love the world openly, but there is a special place in your heart where no one must enter except for your wife. Keep that space always ready to receive her and invite her in, and refuse to let anyone or anything else enter there.

3) FALL IN LOVE OVER and OVER and OVER again. You will constantly change. You’re not the same people you were when you got married, and in five years you will not be the same person you are today. Change will come, and in that you have to re-choose each other everyday. SHE DOESN’T HAVE TO STAY WITH YOU, and if you don’t take care of her heart, she may give that heart to someone else or seal you out completely, and you may never be able to get it back. Always fight to win her love just as you did when you were courting her.

4) ALWAYS SEE THE BEST in her. Focus only on what you love. What you focus on will expand. If you focus on what bugs you, all you will see is reasons to be bugged. If you focus on what you love, you can’t help but be consumed by love. Focus to the point where you can no longer see anything but love, and you know without a doubt that you are the luckiest man on earth to be have this woman as your wife.

5) IT’S NOT YOUR JOB TO CHANGE OR FIX HER… your job is to love her as she is with no expectation of her ever changing. And if she changes, love what she becomes, whether it’s what you wanted or not. 

6) TAKE FULL ACCOUNTABILITY for your own emotions: It’s not your wife’s job to make you happy, and she CAN’T make you sad. You are responsible for finding your own happiness, and through that your joy will spill over into your relationship and your love.

7) NEVER BLAME your wife If YOU get frustrated or angry at her, it is only because it is triggering something inside of YOU. They are YOUR emotions, and your responsibility. When you feel those feelings take time to get present and to look within and understand what it is inside of YOU that is asking to be healed. You were attracted to this woman because she was the person best suited to trigger all of your childhood wounds in the most painful way so that you could heal them… when you heal yourself, you will no longer be triggered by her, and you will wonder why you ever were.

Allow your woman to JUST BE. When she’s sad or upset, it’s not your job to fix it, it’s your job to HOLD HER and let her know it’s ok. Let her know that you hear her, and that she’s important and that you are that pillar on which she can always lean. The feminine spirit is about change and emotion and like a storm her emotions will roll in and out, and as you remain strong and unjudging she will trust you and open her soul to you… DON’T RUN-AWAY WHEN SHE’S UPSET. Stand present and strong and let her know you aren’t going anywhere. Listen to what she is really saying behind the words and emotion.

9) BE SILLY… don’t take yourself so damn seriously. Laugh. And make her laugh. Laughter makes everything else easier.

10) FILL HER SOUL EVERYDAY… learn her love languages and the specific ways that she feels important and validated and CHERISHED. Ask her to create a list of 10 THINGS that make her feel loved and memorize those things and make it a priority everyday to make her feel like a queen.

11) BE PRESENT. Give her not only your time, but your focus, your attention and your soul. Do whatever it takes to clear your head so that when you are with her you are fully WITH HER. Treat her as you would your most valuable client. She is.

12) BE WILLING TO TAKE HER SEXUALLY, to carry her away in the power of your masculine presence, to consume her and devour her with your strength, and to penetrate her to the deepest levels of her soul. Let her melt into her feminine softness as she knows she can trust you fully.

13) DON’T BE AN IDIOT…. And don’t be afraid of being one either. You will make mistakes and so will she. Try not to make too big of mistakes, and learn from the ones you do make. You’re not supposed to be perfect, just try to not be too stupid. 

14) GIVE HER SPACE… The woman is so good at giving and giving, and sometimes she will need to be reminded to take time to nurture herself. Sometimes she will need to fly from your branches to go and find what feeds her soul, and if you give her that space she will come back with new songs to sing…. (okay, getting a little too poetic here, but you get the point. Tell her to take time for herself, ESPECIALLY after you have kids. She needs that space to renew and get re-centered, and to find herself after she gets lost in serving you, the kids and the world.)

15) BE VULNERABLE… you don’t have to have it all together. Be willing to share your fears and feelings, and quick to acknowledge your mistakes. 

16) BE FULLY TRANSPARENT. If you want to have trust you must be willing to share EVERYTHING… Especially those things you don’t want to share. It takes courage to fully love, to fully open your heart and let her in when you don't know i she will like what she finds... Part of that courage is allowing her to love you completely, your darkness as well as your light. DROP THE MASK… If you feel like you need to wear a mask around her, and show up perfect all the time, you will never experience the full dimension of what love can be.

17) NEVER STOP GROWING TOGETHER… The stagnant pond breeds malaria, the flowing stream is always fresh and cool. Atrophy is the natural process when you stop working a muscle, just as it is if you stop working on your relationship. Find common goals, dreams and visions to work towards.

18) DON’T WORRY ABOUT MONEY. Money is a game, find ways to work together as a team to win it. It never helps when teammates fight. Figure out ways to leverage both persons strength to win. 

19) FORGIVE IMMEDIATELY and focus on the future rather than carrying weight from the past. Don’t let your history hold you hostage. Holding onto past mistakes that either you or she makes, is like a heavy anchor to your marriage and will hold you back. FORGIVENESS IS FREEDOM. Cut the anchor loose and always choose love.

20) ALWAYS CHOOSE LOVE. ALWAYS CHOOSE LOVE. ALWAYS CHOOSE LOVE. In the end, this is the only advice you need. If this is the guiding principle through which all your choices is governed, there is nothing that will threaten the happiness of your marriage. Love will always endure.

In the end MARRIAGE isn’t about Happily ever after. It’s about work. And a commitment to grow together and a willingness to continually invest in creating something that can endure eternity. Through that work, the happiness will come.

Marriage is life, and it will bring ups and downs. Embracing all of the cycles and learning to learn from and love each experience will bring the strength and perspective to keep building, one brick at a time.

These are lessons I learned the hard way. These are lessons I learned too late. 

But these are lessons I am learning and committed in carrying forward. Truth is, I LOVED being married, and in time, I will get married again, and when I do, I will build it with a foundation that will endure any storm and any amount of time.

If you are reading this and find wisdom in my pain, share it those those young husbands whose hearts are still full of hope, and with those couples you may know who may have forgotten how to love. One of those men may be like I was, and in these hard earned lessons perhaps something will awaken in him and he will learn to be the man his lady has been waiting for. 

The woman that told him 'I do', and trusted her life with him, has been waiting for this man to step up.

If you are reading this and your marriage isn’t what you want it to be, take 100% responsibility for YOUR PART in marriage, regardless of where your spouse is at, and commit to applying these lessons while there is time.

MEN- THIS IS YOUR CHARGE : Commit to being an EPIC LOVER. There is no greater challenge, and no greater prize. Your woman deserves that from 
Be the type of husband your wife can’t help but brag about.

Trade-offs

Sometimes, Truth just sneaks up on you and bites you in the ass.  You don't even know that the Truth is lying there, like a snake in the grass, until YEEEE-OWWW! you get caught up in one of those undeniable moments of reality.

Earlier this evening, we had a group study session--a group of four 30-something women, I should note-- and, as women are prone to do, the conversation wound its way around to men.  One woman was complaining about her husband and I must have had a bemused look on my face because someone else asked what I was thinking as I was listening to the story.  I shrugged and made an off-hand comment along the lines of "and that's why I'm glad that I'm single!"  Pressed for further explanation, I said the same thing I always say: that although there are nights when I wish I had someone to come home to, most of the time I enjoy my single-person living space.  I leave dishes in the sink when I want to.  I watch what I want on television.  My bathroom is always clean.  I can have oatmeal for dinner if the mood strikes me.  The other women nodded thoughtfully, and admitted that watching whatever they wanted on tv was a luxury seldom afforded by their husbands.  Smug with myself, I sat back and continued to listen to them talk about their men.

But later tonight, as I was lying in bed alone, a moment of loneliness struck me.  And then my earlier words came echoing back, carried forward on a wind of dishonesty.  Because, really, does it actually matter what is on tv?  Do dishes in the sink make me happy?  Yes, oatmeal is satisfying--and not having to cook a real meal is sometimes deeply gratifying!--but does it make up for being alone?  So while I have the ability to sleep diagonally across my bed and hog the covers, is that comparable to having someone who cares about you...and sets the rest of the other crap aside?

The truth is, I have conditioned myself to be someone who is cynical toward romance, disdainful of all things girly like flowers and diamonds, and dispassionate toward love. It's a defense mechanism, of course - and a weak one at that. Deep down, underneath the ridiculous "tough" facade, I'd really like to be swept off my feet. To have someone break through the barrier and call me on my antics. 

But what I want most from a partner is an equal: someone who is genuinely interested in me and who wants to open himself to me in return.  Someone who shares my passions, even if not always my point of view.  A man who will hold my hand through the highs and the lows and will honor our love by making himself equally as vulnerable in our private moments alone.

Life without these things is often incredibly empty - even if I have full control of the tv remote and my bedspread wrapped around me.

Dog days and dog dates

It's the dog days of summer here in Minnesota.  Steamy days are followed by sticky nights.  The locals like to complain about the heat but we all know it's pure bluster, because none of us wants Old Man Winter to return any time soon.  Here in the land of 10,000 lakes, we take to our patio bars like ducks to water during these hot summer days - sucking down suds and catching up with friends lost over the previous long winter. 

Last night was more dog than I ever dreamed...and it wasn't weather-related.  The date, Todd, and I met at a cowboy-themed bar in a nearby suburb: the patio there is rimmed with a kitschy split-rail fence and dotted with vinyl-upholstered table tops.  I arrived, ordered a drink, and waited.  I checked Facebook, scanned my email, and repeatedly checked text messages.  Ten minutes later, I was irked.  Ten more minutes later, I was ready to go when he finally showed up.  I blinked at him, wondering how the bright-eyed man in the photos on the online dating website could have morphed into this sweaty, disheveled slop in front of me.

 He gruffly apologized for his tardiness; evidently, he was on his motorcycle and couldn't call to say he would be late.  I shook off my ire and decided to open my mind.  After all, he was good on paper: a 43 year old man, divorced for over five years, and a PhD in engineering that landed him a great job with GE in the medical field.  I had reason to feel hopeful.

Fifteen minutes later, I was regretting my optimism.  Todd was bossy, insulting, and egotistical.  And that's being generously complimentary.  He blithely asserted that I was "too happy-go-lucky" and that anyone who had even a small amount of life experience would know better than to be so positive.  It wasn't worth proving otherwise, and I let the comment float away.  He tried again, telling me that it was too bad that I was pretty and knew it--there's nothing worse than a "woman who knows she's pretty" but in the next breath, he complimented my self-confidence.  The contradiction was lost on him.

Annoyed, I excused myself to use the restroom.  As I walked away from the table, I could feel his eyes penetrating through my clothes and I shuddered.  When I returned to my seat, he was ready:

"You know, I can tell from the way that you walk that you must have a tilted uterus," he breezily announced.

I stared at him.  I had no idea what a tilted uterus was, since no one, not even my OB-GYN, had ever said those words to me, even in the course of two pregnancies.

"Every man should be able to recognize that in a woman, because it makes a difference in how he interacts with her," he continued, oblivious to the horror filling my face.

"I took ten years of classical ballet--that's the reason for my posture and walk," I informed him shortly.  What the eff is in this man's head, I thought.

"Well, I'm sure I'm right," he replied dismissively.  "Knowing about the tilt of your uterus means I know how to touch--"

I cut him off.  "Hmm.  Interesting stuff.  Anyway, so tell me about your daughter?"

Without missing a beat, he launched into a proud recitation of his daughter's accomplishments...and thereby saved me any further awkward conversation.  I sighed inwardly, checked my watch, and made my exit plan.

Later that night, as I recounted the ugly details to my best friend, she laughed at my misfortune.

"That's what you get for dating educated men, hon!"

Two to Tango

It's often said that you can't change other people.  Being the creatively-minded person that I am, I thought for sure that I could get around that little rule if I changed myself in order to meet the needs of the relationship.

So imagine my surprise when my perfectly crafted plan washed away like a sandcastle in high tide.

It wasn't like I didn't try.  I worked hard to learn new ways to communicate, to resolve conflict, to caretake his heart and find happiness.  I toned down the sarcasm and spoke plain English about my worries, fears, and troubles.  I told him what I needed when I was hurting.  I told him how to make me happy.  I left him space to be a boy and get in trouble with his buddies.  But the more I did, the more he pulled away and refused to meet me in the middle.

I still don't know why that is.  Maybe it was him, maybe it was me, maybe it was the poor circumstances of our relationship.  I do know this: I could try to write up an after-action report and dissect each moment, searching forensically for guilt or absolution.  Or I could move on, taking lessons where they appear naturally and finding peace in the future, rather than sorrow in the past.

One clear-cut lesson is this: it takes two to tango.  You can't drag your partner around the dance floor, hoping that he'll pick up the steps in a song or two.  You can't just yank him up out of that chair and lead him to the floor; disaster is sure to ensue in that scenario.  If he doesn't want to be there, you'll only end up tripping over each other and you may even get seriously hurt in a fall.

Sometimes, partners are afraid to tell us "no" - so they go through the motions.  But that's equally as dangerous, because it lures us into false security.  When he's going through the motions, he's not really listening to the music...and the next thing you know, he missed the uptick in tempo, you trip and fall, and he just turns and walks off the dance floor.

If he's late to the dance on a consistent basis, that bears examination as well.  My last partner gave me many signs--a lot of which I missed because I wasn't ready to face them.  One big sign was his consistent inability to show up on time--or sometimes, show up at all.  It should've been the single biggest "he's-just-not-that-into-you" sign of all, but I refused to see it for what it was.  Instead, I would scold him, he'd apologize and promise to do better...and then he'd fail again within a few weeks.  If someone doesn't want to be at the dance, isn't that telling you something about the status of your relationship?  Above all, your partner should look forward to spending time with you.

I am sure that in due time, other lessons from this latest flop will become apparent.  I like to think that failure isn't such a bad thing--that learning from bad experiences is a success of sorts.  I am still working all that out--and trying to do so without letting it drag me down emotionally.  This is a big task.

There is a great TED talk given by Kathryn Schulz about failure--about what happens when we're wrong and how it feels when we think we're right.  I encourage you to spend 15 minutes and watch it:
http://www.ted.com/talks/kathryn_schulz_on_being_wrong.html

Wanted: Instructions for navigating life

There should be a manual for the post-divorce life.  Everyone offers all sorts of advice on divorce while you're trudging through the slop of the process, but I've found that the after-life has been as difficult as the process itself, but without the glut of advisers.

The first gut punch came when my ex-husband moved in with his girlfriend last fall.  It was a reality check: he's really moved on.  As much as I had moved on too, there was a small part of me--however ridiculous--that was hurt that he was over me.  Call it foolish pride.

In the ensuing months, there have been other difficult moments: my kids talking about their "new" grandparents (the girlfriend's parents), the call that came from the girlfriend that my daughter had to have stitches, my ex-husband coaching her son's basketball team.  All small matters, but weighty despite their size.

Yesterday, when I picked up my seven-year-old daughter from her dad's house, she was bursting with news.

"Guess what!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining.  "Terri got engaged!  To Dad!"

I blinked hard, not quite sure I had heard her right.  "Dad asked Terri to marry him?" I asked incredulously.

"Yep!  And Dad says we could call Terri 'Mom' now," she reported importantly.

"No.  Absolutely not," I tartly responded, more harshly than I had intended.  I tried again: "I don't think that's appropriate, honey.  You have a mom; Terri's more like a bonus caring adult in your life."  We attempted to talk this through, but the moment was wrong--and so was my attitude.

Because what wasn't being said, what I couldn't tell my young daughter, was that I was sad.  But I couldn't wrap my mind around why.  I swallowed hard over the unpleasant emotional bile, changed the topic of conversation, and drove on to her softball game.

Later that night, as I settled into bed, my mind returned to my ex and his girlfriend.  Fiancee, I corrected myself.  Why did that feel so uncomfortable?  Why was my mouth twisted  into a grimace at the thought?  Even now, a day later, my face is still contorted as I sit here writing.

I finally realized that I am resentful because he has achieved success....and I am struggling.  Since our separation over three years ago, I have lost my job, moved three times, and floundered in relationships. He has kept his job, moved up in housing conditions, and found a steady love.  While I don't aspire for the things he does--a house in the suburbs, teeming with children (hers and ours)--I do have goals that have yet to be realized, and I'm frustrated.  His success underscores my own failures.

Navigating change is tricky.  Accepting change is even harder.  There is no book on how to interact with your ex-spouse, or at least none that I'm aware of.  All of us have different relationships with our exes--even among my circle of girlfriends.  Some of my friends' relationships are highly antagonistic, some are superficially polite, and still others have maintained a friendship of sorts.  But the thread of commonality is that change has occurred--a divorce--and a new set of circumstances has arisen, one that  requires us to be emotionally adaptable.

I know I shouldn't compare my life to anyone else's, but when the chips are down, it's hard not to look around and covet what I see.  The last few years haven't been for naught: I am almost done with a Master's degree and I have been a part of my children's lives in ways that I couldn't be if I was working full-time.  Still, I'm ready for the next phase of my life--ready for the challenges and the joys of a career, a love, and a home.

Broken Hearts Club, Vol. II

"Can I ask you a question?"

Through clenched teeth he responded, guarded: "Okay...."

We were in his kitchen, the third location that night for an argument that had spanned an hour, maybe more. With these bouts, there was no bell and time became uncountable. 

I tightly closed my eyes and mustered up my courage, feeling a pit in my stomach and a lump in my throat.  I opened my eyes, and forced a steady voice: "At least tell me what your emotions are right now. Name them."

His eyes softened for a moment as he met my stare. I saw a tenderness hiding behind the harsh glare of anger. 

"Mad. Frustrated. Angry," he responded in a tone that was as hard as it was dishonest. 

"And hurt?" I softly asked. 

He scoffed.  "Hurt? What is that? I don't get hurt," he bitterly responded. It was a defense mechanism, and he knew I knew. 

He took a long swig of his beer, buying both of us a moment of quiet. He'd been slamming beers angrily now for twenty minutes, choosing to dump poison into his liver rather than speak poisonous, angry  words.

I met his flashing eyes with sudden equal anger. Two could play this game, I thought. I opened the refrigerator and reached for a bottle of wine. I poured a long pour into a wine glass and greedily drank it in one gulp. He stared, surprised.

Seizing the moment, I took the cool silver can from his hands and set it on the counter. I leaned in and kissed him, tasting the beer and the utter shock on his lips. Then I stared hard and spoke:

"I will be damned if I let you go. I'm fighting for us, for you. Stop fighting against us and start working for us. We have come too God-damned far to just give up now.  I fucking love you," I fervently whispered into his face. "I know you know hurt. I do, too. Be. Human. Right now, right in this space."

His Atlantic blue eyes searched my face, looking intently for safety and love. The air was still and hung heavy with my declaration for a long minute. 

He grabbed my face with both of his hands, pulling me in abruptly for a kiss. I felt a tear brush my cheek--I don't know if it was his or mine. Gathering me in his arms tightly, he fiercely whispered: 

"Okay."

Broken Hearts Club

The thing about broken hearts is this: you never know when it's going to happen. Because if you knew, you would take every precaution to stop it from happening--to suspend the action in mid-air like a movie. But this isn't Hollywood.

I am current sitting at a bar patio in a dismal suburb, listening to the traffic on the busy county road and the desperately emotional 90's music blaring, sipping tepid Chardonnay. I am waiting for you with a pit in my stomach, My mind racing.  Wondering if you would call it over. Wondering if you would hug me when you came in. Wondering if you would notice my carefully selected outfit, makeup, and perfume. Wondering. 

Three days ago, we were happy. Two nights ago, we cussed each other out like sailors and hung up on one another. We have barely spoken since. This meeting, arranged under strained terms with strained voices, is full of questions and--I hope--maybe even a promise of healing. 

I find myself wondering about who I am: stupidly optimistic, or just a glutton for punishment? What parts of our fight were mine to own, and what were yours? I know I'm the person who always says I'm sorry first...is that a flaw or a beauty mark?

While I think, my eye strays and I spy a nearby couple, hands intertwined, praying over their food. As quick as I am the scoff at them and figuratively roll my eyes, I mentally apologize and turn my attention to appreciate their graceful tie. She's blonde--as everyone in this Scandinavian-American outpost is--and he sports an olive-drab tshirt, the kind available in any department store across the country. There is nothing remarkable about them physically, but their bond is unmistakeable: they're the couple that will grow old together. I watch him sip his amber-colored brew and smile at her over the top of his glass, his adoration for her apparent. I smile in spite of myself. 

I don't know what you'll say when you come in here. But I believe in love like that.