Tiny Buddha

Tag: romance

  • Love Isn’t About Being Chosen

    Love Isn’t About Being Chosen

    “Feeling safe in someone’s energy is a different kind of intimacy. That feeling of peace and protection is really underrated.” ~Vanessa Klas

    The first time I said, “I love you” to a romantic partner, I was met with silence.

    Nine months into what I believed was a deep, mutual relationship, I felt certain we were on the same page. But when the words left my mouth, he froze. No words back. No reassurance. Just silence. The next thing I knew, he disappeared for weeks, leaving me sitting in the wreckage of my own vulnerability. I was left questioning everything—why had I shared so much? Why had I opened my heart, only to have it shut down?

    In that silence, I created a story about myself that followed me for years. I convinced myself I wasn’t worthy of being loved in return, that there was something inherently wrong with me. This belief seeped into every relationship afterward. I started waiting for the other shoe to drop, convinced love was something I had to earn instead of something I deserved.

    In college, the pattern continued. I dated someone who treated me like a backup plan. The days he chose me were filled with excitement, butterflies, and joy—but those days were few and far between.

    Most of the time, I was left waiting by the phone, hoping to be picked. When he didn’t, I was once again questioning my worth, wondering what I had done wrong. The cycle became so familiar, I didn’t even recognize it anymore.

    What I didn’t realize then was that by showing up in relationships this way—allowing myself to be the back-burner girlfriend, staying timid in my love, my confidence, and my desires—I was teaching others how to treat me. I was telling them, through my actions, that I didn’t expect more, that this was enough. But it wasn’t enough. Deep down, I knew I deserved more, but I didn’t yet believe it.

    I carried these same patterns into my first marriage, thinking if I just worked harder and gave more of myself, maybe, just maybe, he’d love me the way I longed for. But love isn’t about fixing someone, and it certainly isn’t about fixing yourself. Yet for so long, I believed it was. I convinced myself I’d finally be enough if I could just perfect myself, become the ideal partner.

    But after eleven years, I knew I couldn’t keep sacrificing my joy for a relationship that wasn’t right, so I left—not because I had all the answers, but because I knew I couldn’t stay.

    It wasn’t until I found myself in my therapist’s office after my divorce that things began to shift. I thought I needed to fix what had been broken in me by my ex-husband, that my brokenness was why love had failed.

    One day, I walked into therapy, slapped my hands on my thighs, and cheerfully exclaimed, “I just want to be happy!” Who was I kidding? I treated happiness like a box to be checked off, a goal to master. But my therapist, in her quiet wisdom, simply said, “It doesn’t work that way.”

    I was furious—triggered even. How dare she tell me it wasn’t that simple? But deep down, I knew she was right.

    You can’t force your way into happiness, and you can’t fake your way into feeling whole. I had spent so much of my life trying to fix others and mold myself into someone worthy of love that I hadn’t stopped to consider that maybe I was already enough. But I had to understand why I kept showing up in relationships with people who couldn’t love me in return.

    Why was I choosing emotionally unavailable men? Why was I so convinced that I was the problem?

    I see these patterns in myself and in many others. One of my clients once sat across from me and said, “Molly, I’m a hard woman to love.” Those words stuck with me. I could see the weight of that belief in her eyes—the years she’d spent carrying it.

    I asked her, “When did you decide that? When did you start believing you were hard to love?”

    She paused, and we began to dig into her story. There were moments when she hadn’t been chosen, when she felt she had to earn love through perfection and pleasing others. She brought that belief into her marriage, shaping how she showed up. She was defensive, always expecting rejection, and that created a wall between her and her partner.

    It was a self-fulfilling prophecy—believing she was hard to love made it so. Through her healing, she realized she wasn’t hard to love; she was lovable just as she was.

    Her story mirrored my own. I had spent so many years believing I had to earn love and prove my worth. In doing so, I allowed relationships that were far from what I truly wanted. I didn’t know it at the time, but by being the back-burner girlfriend and staying small in my desires, I was setting the standard for how I would be treated. I was telling myself and others I didn’t deserve more.

    But here’s the truth: we are all worthy of love. Not because of what we do, not because of how perfect we are, but simply because we are.

    That realization didn’t come easily for me. It took years of peeling back the layers of limiting beliefs and asking why I kept settling for less. But when I finally understood that I was worthy of deep, committed love, everything changed.

    After my divorce, I made a promise to myself. I wasn’t going to settle again. I sat down and wrote a list of twenty-two things I wanted in a partner. Not because I was trying to create an impossible checklist, but because I needed to get clear on what I truly valued. I needed to hold myself accountable so that I wouldn’t fall back into old patterns.

    That list became a reminder of my worth, a reflection of what I deserved. I had to hold myself to this to be sure that I didn’t somehow convince myself that four out of twenty-two would do.

    Then, I finally met my current husband.

    We met in our local grocery store. I kept passing him in the aisles and finally got up enough courage to stop him in the cleaning aisle, of all places. We small-talked for a few minutes, and I walked away both equally excited and embarrassed about my boldness.

    We had both been through divorce, so we cautiously entered this new relationship, but before long, we were building something real. Something grounded in truth, in mutual respect, in love that didn’t feel like work. And as we grew closer, we began to heal—both individually and together. He wasn’t perfect, and neither was I. But what we had was real, and that was deeply beautiful.

    I remember one moment in particular, early in our relationship. He suggested that I start weight training, and immediately, I felt defensive. The old story came rushing back: “He thinks I’m not enough. He doesn’t like the way I look.

    But instead of letting that story spiral, I did something different. I took a lesson from the beautiful author Brené Brown and told him, “The story I’m telling myself is that you don’t like my body.”

    His response? Pure love. He reassured me that it wasn’t about my appearance at all; he had recently listened to a podcast about women’s bone health and the benefits of weight training. He was thinking from a place of love about my long-term health and our future together.

    That conversation could have gone a completely different way if we hadn’t chosen to be vulnerable, to trust each other enough to speak our truths. It could have gone differently if I had let my narrative spiral and never opened up the discussion.

    That’s what real love is. It can be messy, it’s imperfect, and it’s also so easy—when it’s right, it doesn’t feel hard. The beauty is in the vulnerability. The beauty is in realizing that the hurt we’ve carried and the walls we’ve built weren’t ever really about us, and that journey is what brought us together.

    The back burner, the infidelity, the lies, the waiting to be chosen—that was never about me. It was about them. It was about their journey, their walls, and their fears. And once I understood that, I was free. Free to love without holding back. Free to accept the love I had always deserved.

    If you’re reading this and you’ve felt that same sting of rejection, that same pattern of being put second, I want you to know this: It’s not about something you’re lacking. It never was. The hurt you’ve experienced doesn’t define you. You are not unlovable. You are not broken. You are worthy of a love that sees you fully, that cherishes every part of you.

    But first, you must see it in yourself. You have to believe that you deserve more. You have to make that list—whether it’s twenty-two things or just one—and hold yourself to it. Not because you’re waiting for someone to complete you, but because you know you are already complete, and you want to share your amazing life with someone.

    And when that love comes, it will be everything you’ve been waiting for. Not perfect, but real. And in the end, that’s all that matters.

    Because love—real love—isn’t about being chosen. It’s about choosing yourself first. And when you do that, everything else falls into place.

  • Why I No Longer Chase Emotionally Unavailable People, Hoping They’ll Change

    Why I No Longer Chase Emotionally Unavailable People, Hoping They’ll Change

    “Never chase love, affection, or attention. If it isn’t given freely by another person, it isn’t worth having.” ~Unknown

    We met at a bar with Skee-Ball and slushy margaritas for our first date.

    She was gorgeous. I noticed that as soon as I walked in. I still wasn’t sure whether we’d have anything to talk about though. The messages we’d exchanged had been minimal.

    It turned out we did.

    Conversation flowed from one topic to the next—meandering from her passion for biology in college to how I tried to master mountain boarding at summer camp as a kid to how both of us were passionate about writing/putting words to the page.

    I found her articulate, funny, sociable, and down-to-earth. I liked her intellect. Her wit. Her seeming earnestness and appetite for unconventional topics like the environmental benefit of eating insects and sexism in the taxidermy industry.

    She came over to my place after; I cooked dinner for us. Talk got deeper. She shared the effect her dad’s depression had on her when she was a kid; how she’d personalize his quiet moods. I shared some of the instability I’d experienced as a kid.

    The evening ended in a hook-up. Nothing like a good trauma spill for an aphrodisiac.

    A couple weeks later we had another date. I felt similarly elated afterwards. But doubts began to surface before our third; she was acting wishy-washy and noncommittal.

    I talked them away, though, because seeing her filled me with buzzy joy. Our interactions powered me through the week with a buoyancy unlike any that my morning coffee had ever provided.

    So we kept going on dates.

    She’d bring flowers to them. Lift me into the air when we kissed, which I loved. Tell me I was a “really good thing in her life.”

    The last day I saw her, we biked around to local breweries.

    The sun shone against our faces as we sipped from each other’s beers out on the back patio—having what felt like a raw conversation about intimacy patterns and fears. She was working on hers, she said. I acknowledged some of my own in return.

    When she asked if she could kiss me (for the fourth time that day) as we unlocked our bikes, I remember how wanted it made me feel.

    I carried that golden effervescent feeling with me into the next day. It was still with me when I opened a text from her—but  shattered into spiky glass shards when I read what it said.

    That she couldn’t continue seeing me. That she wasn’t in the right place emotionally.

    It’s not you, it’s me.

    We all know the spiel.

    **

    It wasn’t the first time I’d had my heart dropped from the Trauma Tower on top of which a woman and I had been insecurely attaching.

    This woman was just one among several in a pattern. You can call it trauma bonding. A hot and cold relationship. The anxious-avoidant dance. These push-pull dynamics that played out through my twenties had elements of all of these.

    One day the person would open up. We’d connect and it’d feel like I’d really seen them, and they’d seen me.

    The next day they’d pull back (even in the seeming absence of overt conflict). The contrast was painful. The shift felt jarring.

    According to Healthline, “Recognizing emotional unavailability can be tricky. Many emotionally unavailable people have a knack for making you feel great about yourself and hopeful about the future of your relationship.”

    Whenever these situationships crumbled, it would really break me. Feelings I’d hoped to have buried for good would resurrect—among them, doubt that anyone would ever choose to see and accept me fully.

    And yet the “connections” felt so hard to disentangle from once formed. From my perspective, the woman and I often had strong chemistry. Words came easily. We talked about vulnerable things, but could also laugh and enjoy the lighter aspects of life. They were my type physically. The perceived strength of our connection compelled me to stay.

    **

    It took me some time to realize that each relationship of this sort that I remained in spoke to unhealed parts of me.

    Part of the healing I did over the past few years involved looking at the role I played in them. It involved realizing that I too contributed to the cycle—by continuing to give chances to a person who couldn’t (or didn’t want to) help meet my needs.

    I contributed by staying and hoping the situation would shift. That the clouds obstructing their full attention and investment would magically lift. That they’d depart to reveal the sun that was waiting all along to wrap its powerful rays around my heart.

    I contributed by not establishing boundaries. For instance, in one situationship I felt as if I’d become the woman’s therapist, there to reassure her when self-doubts overtook her; to validate her following any perceived rejection by strangers; to coddle her ego when she felt unattractive in the eyes of the male barista who’d just served us our coffee.

    I could have set a limit around how much she confided in or leaned on me. I could’ve communicated that if we were just friends with occasional benefits, then I only had so much bandwidth. That it didn’t feel reciprocal to be her on-call therapist.

    I also could have left at any time. I chose to stay in these situations, though, despite the signs. Perhaps I thought those signs were ambiguous enough to be negotiable. Or that I was just giving the benefit of the doubt.

    Additionally, I chose to look at the women for who I wanted them to be, who they could be somewhere down the line, and who they sometimes were—rather than seeing them for who they fully were on the whole and in the present moment.

    When we see others for their potential, no matter how innocent or well-meaning our willful obscuring of the present reality may be, we pay a cost.

    **

    Inconsistency and unavailability are less attractive to me the older I get and the more that I heal from my past trauma. Game-playing has even begun to repel me in a way it didn’t used to. When a person shows signs of it, I notice my interest starting to wane. Conversely, qualities like consistency and decisiveness, and earnestness are increasingly attractive now.

    In my thirties I no longer find the emotional ups and downs of an anxious-avoidant dynamic sustainable. I want something calmer.

    I hope for a connection that takes a load off—not one that adds more stress to a world already saddled with the weight of so much of it. One wherein we’re both safe spaces for the other. I believe this is what we all deserve, granted that we too are willing to put in some work.

    In general, having a choosier mentality means you may stay single for more years than you imagined—because it’s true that the dating pool bubbles with people whose traumas and defenses are incompatible with our own. I think maybe it always will.

    Still, when I picture all the heart pain spared, it’s an approach that feels right. The thought now of being pulled back into another cycle of fleeting hope and optimism punctured by blindsiding shards of disappointment unsettles me more than the thought of staying indefinitely un-partnered.

    Not only that, it also saddens me. The sadness I feel is for every person ever caught in the same emotional cyclone. I can’t help but think it’s such a tremendous drain of energy. Energy that could be used instead to vitalize both the larger world and our own lives.

    **

    No more will I follow the bread-crumby path to another person’s heart when it takes me so far from the integrity of my own.

    And anyone who’s been through similar experiences—I encourage you to remain hopeful that one day, a person who’s deserving of your love will step into your life and onto your path. Until then, remember you have you. Treasure yourself, treat yourself well, and realize you’re worth more than chasing. You deserve to put your feet up and let someone chase you—or better still, come meet you in the middle.

  • How I Stopped Feeling Embarrassed and Ashamed of Being Single

    How I Stopped Feeling Embarrassed and Ashamed of Being Single

    “Be proud of who you are, not ashamed of how someone else sees you.” ~Unknown

    “When was your last relationship?” my hairdresser asked as she twisted the curling wand into my freshly blow-dried hair.

    “Erm, around two years ago.” I lied.

    “Why did you break up?” she asked.

    “Oh, he had a lot of issues. It wasn’t really working out.” I lied again.

    I had gotten quite good at this, lying to hide my shame over being in my early thirties and never having been in a serious relationship. I had learned to think on my feet; that way, no one would ever call me out. The last thing I needed was people’s pity and judgment.

    I sat in my chair thinking about what she might say. Should I have told her that I have never been in a serious relationship? Would she be compassionate or judgmental? Would she feel sorry for me and think there was something wrong with me? That was a risk I was not willing to take.

    I felt so much shame and embarrassment around my relationship status that I would avoid discussions about it at all costs. Or I’d lie or get defensive with family and friends who would bring it up, to the point that they noticed it was a sore subject and would avoid asking about my love life.

    I learned to recognize how shame manifested in my physical body—the anxiety I felt when someone would ignorantly ask when I would be having children, the rapid heartbeat when asked if I would be bringing a plus-one to gatherings, and the knots in my stomach when I would be invited places that would consist of mainly couples.

    The shame I felt around my relationship status had always prevented me from speaking my truth because I was afraid I would be judged harshly.

    I felt like someone with an addiction who was in denial. I was so ashamed that I couldn’t bring myself to say the words “I’ve never had a serious relationship” to anyone, not even my closest friends and family, despite them knowing deep down.

    The Quest to Find Love

    I felt aggrieved that I had gotten to my early thirties without ever being in a serious relationship. The creator didn’t love me; it had forgotten about me. I desperately wanted a loving relationship, as I was tired of being alone, and I wanted to experience true love.

    I had a warped belief that being in love meant that I would feel happier, content, and life would genuinely be easier. After all, this is what we are told in fairy tales—the princess gets her knight in shining armor and they live happily ever after!

    Over the years, I delved into the dating scene, trying dating apps, and keeping an active social life so I could meet people. Time went by, and I dated multiple unavailable men who ran when they sensed I wanted something serious.

    This eventually got tiresome, and it took a toll on my self-esteem and confidence. I felt undesirable and not good enough.

    I couldn’t understand what I was doing wrong! Was I being punished? I was well-educated, with a good career and prospects, and I wasn’t bad looking at all. And more importantly, I was considered kind, outgoing, and friendly by those who knew me.

    Enough Is Enough

    I was exhausted and frustrated and had no more energy left in me to keep looking for a good match.

    I was so fed up with being met with disappointment and feeling bad about myself that I slowly began to give up on love.

    I convinced myself that I would never find the right partner, that I wouldn’t experience the over-glamorized idea of love I had conjured up in my head from early childhood.

    This only heightened my feelings of shame. It told me that not only was I not good enough to have a partner, I wasn’t capable of seeing something through until the end, and I didn’t possess the courage to ‘tough it out.’ Shame told me I was a bad person, unworthy of love.

    Sulking into my pillow on a Sunday afternoon, I had a sudden thought: Maybe it’s not them, maybe it’s you. I got angry at this thought. How could I possibly be to blame? I’ve done nothing wrong. The only thing I am guilty of is wanting to be loved.

    Another thought came: Maybe you can do something to change your experiences. This thought didn’t get me as angry, and after reflecting on it for a day or two, I concluded that I had to take some responsibility for the kind of men I was attracting.

    I took a step back from finding ‘the one’ and put my energy and focus on working on myself. I concluded that most of the qualities I wanted in a man I didn’t even have in myself—for example, confidence and assertiveness.

    Compassion Over Everything

    I learned that shame can be ‘killed’ when it’s met with compassion, so I started being kinder and less critical of myself. I made a conscious effort to avoid negative thoughts, praised myself as often as I could, and tried not to be too hard on myself.

    I confided in my close friends about the shame I felt around my single status, despite it taking much courage to do so. The more I admitted to people that I had never been in a serious relationship, the better I felt and the more I began to accept it.

    Being vulnerable with those I loved was like a weight being lifted off my shoulders. What’s even better was that I wasn’t judged harshly or pitied as I anticipated, and instead, I was shown love and compassion.

    I remember telling a new colleague that I hadn’t been in a serious relationship, and she said, “Me too.” My fear of how she would react quickly turned to relief that there were people just like me, that I had nothing to be ashamed of.

    I was, however, choosy about whom I told my story to, as not everyone is deserving of seeing me at my most vulnerable. I knew I had to be careful because if I was not met with compassion and was judged and ridiculed, this could have exacerbated the shame I already felt.

    Love is Love, No Matter Where It Comes From

    I began to realize that love is love, and regardless of my relationship status, I had plenty of it. I didn’t need a partner to feel loved, and love isn’t less valuable because it doesn’t come from a relationship.

    We can be shown love by our friends, family, colleagues, ourselves, and even strangers. This love is just as special and meaningful as the love you experience in a relationship.

    With this in mind, I began to cultivate more self-love in order to boost my confidence and self-esteem. After all, the best relationship I’ll ever have is the one I have with myself.

    I started being kind to myself and saying nice things about myself through daily affirmations. I also accepted compliments when I was given them, took time out for self-care, and put boundaries in place where needed.

    As a result, my confidence and self-esteem grew, and I started to understand my worth and value.

    Letting Go of the Need to Find Love

    Over time, I began to let go of the need to find love. I hadn’t noticed that it had completely taken over every part of my being. I wasn’t closed off to finding love; in fact, I was very open about finding a potential partner. Only this time, I was okay with it if it didn’t happen.

    I let go of the idea that someone would be coming to rescue me, and I concluded that I could be my own hero and best friend.

    I let go of the idea that I needed to be in a relationship to be happy and made a conscious decision to be happy at that very moment. As a result, I began to feel free, liberated, and completely content with where I was in life.

    When I let go, I noticed that the shame I felt around my relationship status had stemmed from fear. I was scared of what people would think of me because I wasn’t meeting the status quo. I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to start a family.

    Where I Am Now

    I still haven’t met ‘the one,’ and I’m okay with this. I am now at peace, joyful, and enjoying my life as it is in this present moment.

    I no longer feel the shame I once felt around my relationship status or the fear that I have been left behind. I understand that I don’t have to be ashamed, as there are plenty of others just like me.

    I choose to see my single status as my superpower. I get to use this time to learn and grow. I embrace and appreciate every moment of being single, as I know that when I do get into a relationship (which I will), I will miss moments of being single and having no one to answer to.

    There are, of course, times when negative thoughts and behaviors try to rear their ugly head, but I simply remember who I am and ask myself, “Does this thought or behavior align with what I want or who I want to be?” If it doesn’t, I simply let it go.

    For anyone reading this who’s experiencing feelings of shame and fear because they do not have a partner, remember you’re still worthy single, and you deserve your own compassion and love. Once you give these things to yourself, you set yourself free.

  • What Most People Get Wrong About Singles and 6 Messages You Might Need

    What Most People Get Wrong About Singles and 6 Messages You Might Need

    “In a world that treats a forty-one-year-old single woman like a teenager who didn’t get asked to prom, I think it’s extremely important to recognize the unique wisdom of a solitary life—a wisdom that develops slowly over many years, that is fundamentally different from that of, say, the person who was between boyfriends for a year when she was twenty-six.” ~Sara Eckel

    I was twenty-three and had just told a woman I was casually dating that I’d never been in a long-term committed relationship.

    Her response was this: “Wow, really? I mean, you’re attractive, so why haven’t you?”

    Having spent more of my life single than coupled, I’ve become accustomed to questions and comments like these. And although I am currently at a place of contentment and acceptance with my singleness, I wasn’t always. Shame often attaches itself to people (women especially) who remain un-partnered for long patches of time, particularly as we get older.

    As author Sara Eckel put it: “In polite society, there’s an understanding that inquiring about the reason two people marry is completely inappropriate. Singles are not afforded this privacy. Instead, the rude inquiries are wrapped in compliments about how attractive and together you are.”

    “For many of us, living alone in a society that is so rigorously constructed around couples and nuclear families is hard on the soul,” she wrote.

    Look to sites like Quora and Reddit, and you’ll find a plethora of questions posted by the worriedly un-partnered—from “What’s wrong with me? I’ve been single for seven years” to “Do you become undateable after being single for over ten years?”

    There are many negative messages and annoying presumptions about singleness percolating through society that I wish would stop. It’s no coincidence in my mind that women (more than men) are the more frequent targets of them.

    Here are my own counter-messages that I’ve developed in my thirty-two years as a woman on this planet.

    1. It’s quite possible that you’re not trying too hard.

    From the time I was eighteen, people told me that the desire for a connection was what kept me from finding one. If I just stopped caring or wanting it, a relationship would find me. As Sara Eckel wrote, “The fact that you want love is taken as evidence that you’re not ready for it.”

    I’ve known many people through the years whose desire for a relationship definitely didn’t stop them from finding one.

    2. Wanting a relationship doesn’t mean you are ungrateful for all the other positive aspects of your life

    In my ambivalently single years, I often felt I was constantly pushing myself to look on the bright side, count my blessings, and express gratitude (both to myself and to those around me) for the friends, hobbies, and other things I had going on in my life.

    I feel this way far less now. That is, I don’t feel as if I need to force the gratitude and appreciation; it flows in naturally in response to all the positive that currently fills my life. I’m living it in alignment with my values. I’m spending my time in the ways I want to.

    Still, it was okay to want more, even back then. The desire for partnership is human and valid, and it’s more than understandable for it to surface from time to time.

    As Rachel Heller put it in Attached (which she coauthored with Amir Levine), “Our need for someone to share our lives with is part of our genetic makeup and has nothing to do with how much we love ourselves or how fulfilled we feel on our own.”

    Singles are wired to want love and companionship as much as the next person. Our own company can be wonderful, but we’re not weak if that “there’s something missing” feeling still creeps up unexpectedly some days.

    What gets me about this one is the contradiction. Being single raises antennae. So too does the inability to find happiness on one’s own. It’s a bit of a damned if you do, damned if you don’t predicament.

    3. It’s completely possible that you genuinely just want companionship, not necessarily someone to satisfy all of your emotional needs.

    At times people assume a woman’s desire for a partner is rooted in an unrealistic expectation for a romantic relationship to fulfill all of her emotional needs. The truth for me, back in my twenties, was that I would have been happy to meet some of those needs through platonic connection. The older I got, though, the less available friends seemed to become.

    I feel more content with my friendships now, and a combination of expectation adjustment and meeting more like-minded people has helped me to feel like my connection needs are mostly met. But this wasn’t always the case. And for the people out there currently feeling a void, it’s not always due to lack of effort.

    As Sara Eckel wrote, “Our society is structured around couples and families—and if you don’t fit neatly into one of those units, you often have to build a support system from scratch, which is a big task. Friends move, or marry, or disappear into time-sucking work projects. And they usually don’t consult you about it.”

    Back when I felt more of that connection void, many of my friends had partnered off, become consumed by career commitments, or moved out of the area.

    It would be convenient to believe that the full secret to happiness lies completely within oneself. But individual efforts and self-care can only enhance one’s life so much. The truth is we do need others, to some extent. Most of us need (at least some amount of) healthy and satisfying connections. If you feel like you’re doing all that you can and not getting back what you need, it’s disheartening.

    4. Your life might actually be full enough as it is.

    “Take up a hobby.” “Become a more interesting person.” “Work through your issues.” “Focus on your friendships.” “Get more settled in your career.” These are just some of the many morsels of advice bestowed upon singles.

    I think that at times people prescribe the “have a full life” advice too heavily—using it to justify why some remain un-partnered, even when it doesn’t apply.

    For instance, back when I really wanted a relationship, I enjoyed the life I’d carved out for myself. I led a mostly full one, making time to hike and appreciate the outdoors at least several times a week. I biked. I read voraciously. I cooked healthy meals. I planned solo trips and made ample time for friends. I kept myself open and receptive to the beauty of the world around me.

    Though my job didn’t always feel like a perfect fit and lacked the comfort of a consistent coworker community, it drew upon my skills and passions while allowing me to serve a vulnerable population.

    Even though I had all that, I still at times found myself wanting a partner.

    The truth is that all kinds of people, from those with full lives to ones with few hobbies, find love. Even people whose lives seem unadorned or ”empty” when viewed from the outside are capable of intimate connections. Our species would not have persisted if the only ones of us who partnered were those with past-times and over-stuffed days.

    Many of the same people who prescribed “spend more time with friends or on hobbies” seemed to have also (ironically) been the ones who’d never had to fill their time in this way for more than a year (or maybe two) tops—either because they’d been in a partnership for many years or had only been single intermittently (having spent far more of their adult lives coupled off).

    5. The losses of “mini” or “almost” relationships are still losses.

    Chronically single people are likelier to have more experience with the dating apps. More time spent in the dating game means more exposure to the muck and unhealed emotional issues that circulates its fetid waters. We’re more susceptible to getting caught up in a frustrating and constant cycle of false hope and cautious optimism, followed by disappointment and disillusionment that the partnered don’t have to deal with.

    As much as I wanted to “just get over” some of these dating situations and not let them affect me, as blogger Janis Isaman wrote, “inside our bodies, it doesn’t work that way when we feel loss—over and over again—and lack support, lack feeling, lack an empathetic abiding witness, or lack self-compassion.”

    She writes, “this failure to give space to: ‘this is painful,’ ‘this feels like rejection,’ ‘this feels awful’ means we not only abandon our authenticity but also that we experience trauma. The tiny interactions of serial dating transmute themselves up into pain and disconnection, and we might find ourselves increasingly angry or panic-filled because we haven’t metabolized the previous losses.”

    Now I’m able to see: these experiences were still losses. Any time you invest heart and time, you are building some form of connection. When that connection dissolves, you will feel the hurt. It’s not only more than okay to feel your feelings; doing so is necessary for moving on.

    6. It’s not because you’re broken or need to spend more time healing your issues.

    This counsel isn’t totally without merit. In several relationships when younger, I had a lot of issues to work through; I wasn’t emotionally healthy. A relationship would not have been the wisest move.

    Still, this piece of advice mythologizes perfect health and implies we can arrive at a place where we’re fully healed—when health is always along a spectrum, with no human ever completely on the side of perfection.

    People with far more emotional baggage than both me and other chronically single people I know have found loving connections. Perpetual worriers. “Boring” folks. Individuals all across the spectrum have found partners who think the world of them. They didn’t have to work to improve themselves in order to. They didn’t have to go through years and years of rigorous therapy. They didn’t need a full-on personality transplant.

    The underlying message I hear poking out from this piece of advice is this: Change who you are.

    What if we were to shift to this message instead? You don’t need to perpetually strive. Therapy can help you become more self-aware, secure in yourself, and clear in what you’re looking for—but ultimately, a lot of meeting a compatible partner has to do with luck, timing, and the types of people you are encountering. You are worthy of love as you are.

    Not only does this feel kinder, but also more accurate.

    ~~

    For years I sought reasons to explain my single status. The conclusion I’ve arrived at now is: There is no grand overarching reason. Or rather, there are so many that it’s no use trying to pick them all apart. Seeking to fully untangle the bundle would be an unproductive use of time.

    Yes, some societal positions might increase your odds. And healthy relationships are less likely to occur between people with unhealed emotional issues. Ultimately, though, timing and chance are key aspects.

    The right partners will grace our lives when they’re meant to. I can’t say when that will happen. I just know that what we can control is the amount of energy we spend pursuing, perseverating, and picking ourselves apart in our pursuit of the “why.”

    I feel less urgency to be in a relationship now than before, and I am grateful for this. Having a more discerning lens has allowed me to be a better guardian of my emotional energy (and life in general)—where before, I would let in a questionable fit just for the sake of being able to say I was in a relationship. It has also led to growth that I don’t think I would have achieved if a significant other were a part of the equation.

    My hope is for anyone who’s struggled with shame and self-doubt to breathe a little easier, knowing you don’t have to try so hard to improve yourself—that you’re as lovable as the rest of us, exactly as you are.

  • Why My Boyfriend and I Play Like Kids and Are Happier for It

    Why My Boyfriend and I Play Like Kids and Are Happier for It

    “Play is the foundation of learning, creativity, self-expression, and constructive problem-solving. It’s how children wrestle with life to make it meaningful.” ~Susan Linn, Psychiatrist

    We met at a job interview for a summer camp. At the time, I was twenty-two years old and pursuing a bachelor’s degree in English literature and psychology at UBC. On the other hand, H was attending college in the hopes of one day becoming a high school history teacher. He also “liked to promote and support the development of children.”

    During our first date, we grabbed coffee and spent some time at Indigo Books & Music. I was impressed. I had not only found a boy who was willing to tolerate my endless browsing, but genuinely seemed to enjoy it.

    H was funny, dressed nicely, and most importantly, didn’t know much about me. Later, he would learn that I’d grown up a perfectionist, that I became overwhelmed easily, and that I always took life too seriously. I valued the art of productivity and felt self-conscious when acting silly.

    In our early days, we enjoyed sunbathing at the beach and went “playground hopping,” a term coined after spending an entire afternoon going from playground to playground, sitting on the swings, flirting. We climbed the various structures and found out we could no longer get across the monkey bars.

    We had a typical “summer romance.” We sent each other flirty texts at work, and I chased him around the jungle gym during one of our outings with the kids. We played Connect 4 instead of strip poker and went to the candy store to buy samples of all our favorite childhood treats. He loved to make blanket forts and was always to blame for the ensuing pillow fight. We put on music and danced in our underwear in my bedroom late at night.

    He brought out my inner child. We played handshake games while waiting for the bus without caring about the other commuters’ glances. We painted cheap wooden frames from the dollar store and bought a puzzle at Toys R Us. We went to the kid’s arcade and had a playful Skee-Ball competition.

    After a few months of dating, and as a result of my interest into Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), H and I sat down and made a list of what would become our Common Core Values. Out of sixty values, we picked about a dozen. Then, we talked about them.

    Connecting with our values adds meaning to our lives, but clarifying values can be challenging, because most values are words that are vague. Take, for example, the value of respect. Most people I know value respect. But what does it look like? And what does respect look like specifically in a romantic relationship? We recorded our choices in our newly bought couple’s journal.

    Our values included words such as connection (physical, emotional), equality, boundaries, safety, teamwork, gratitude, humility, and kindness, as well as trust, courage, and vulnerability.

    The value that stood out to me the most, though, was play.

    Play has been one of the core tenets of our relationship. When we first met, he had no idea that I was heavily involved in the mental health community.

    I worked at the hospital where I did peer support work and supported children as well as their families navigate the (highly complex) mental health system. I heard devastating stories of families trying to access care.

    I sat on the board of a non-profit organization that held support groups for students every week and spent a lot of my time holding space for others, while at the same time admiring their resilience. Outside of that, I was busy taking classes, and trying my best to care for my own mental health.

    A few years ago, when I fell in love with Brené Brown’s The Gifts of Imperfection, the chapter that stood out the most to me was: “Wholehearted Living Guidepost 7: Cultivating Rest and Play.”

    In the chapter, she introduced Dr. Stuart Brown, a psychiatrist who has studied play. He explained that play is time spent without purpose and can include a variety of “frivolous activities.”

    As a young adult, overachiever, and university student, I spend most of my time working hard, trying to achieve the definition of “success” society has defined for me. At times, there are sleepless nights, two cups of coffee, and skipped breakfasts.

    When H and I play, we lose track of time. We become immersed in our decorating of gratitude jars, tickle fights, and me chasing him down with an ice cream cone.

    My relationship with H has given me one of the greatest gifts: the ability to lose myself in laughter, and permission to focus on leisure without feeling guilt or anxiety. In the words of Brené Brown, it is all about “letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth.”

    I like to refer to H as “Mr. Fun” because it’s the part I love most about him. If it wasn’t for him, I would rarely allow myself to play. I often feel self-conscious and judge myself harshly whenever I feel the urge to do something “childish,” like coloring. I tell myself, “Don’t be ridiculous. Grow up. You’re not a child anymore.”

    At the time of our discovering our common core values, we had only been dating for three months. Since then, we’ve grown enormously as a couple. The wonderful thing about our common core values is that we now have a silent agreement. We have both committed to living by those values, so we refer to them as needed, especially during a conflict. When we make mistakes, we refer to the value of forgiveness. It lessens the guilt and shame while still holding us accountable.

    Essentially, play encourages self-enquiry, social connection, and being curious about the world.

    Play has allowed us to cultivate a relationship that is based on vulnerability and helps us cope with the uncertainty of the world. It has enhanced our intimacy and helped us relax during stressful times. After all, we are realistic, and understand that our relationship will encounter many obstacles in the future, including having to cope with economic and political instability.

    From an outsider perspective, I am described as responsible, punctual, and can be found balancing my budget with an Excel sheet, every month. You are more likely to find me writing professional emails than singing in the shower or expressing my creativity.

    Sometimes H and I argue about the pros and cons of having carpet in our future dream home and sometimes we make lists of supplies to buy, like Play-Doh, or Legos. Sometimes we discuss Canadian politics while drinking apple juice in plastic cups. We eat Kraft Dinner as a snack and calculate the cost of a one-bedroom apartment. We are both children at heart and young adults trying to navigate the world.

    And not too long ago, H surprised me with a heart shape made of colourful melted beads.

  • How I Found Peace and Self-Love After a Toxic Relationship

    How I Found Peace and Self-Love After a Toxic Relationship

    “Bravery is leaving a toxic relationship and knowing that you deserve better.” ~Unknown

    When my marriage ended, it left a huge void that I desperately needed to fill, and quickly.

    Along with my divorce came the unbearable feelings of rejection and being unlovable. To avoid these feelings, fill the void, and distract myself, I turned to dating. And it turns out, it was much too soon.

    What seemed like a harmless distraction soon became what I needed to feel wanted and loved. This was a way to avoid doing the harder work of learning to love myself instead of needing outside validation to feel good about myself.

    The online dating scene was a complete circus that I didn’t know how to navigate with all of my wounding. I ended up falling for a guy—let’s call him Steve.

    Steve seemed nice enough when I met him. He was quiet and seemed like he may have been a little too passive for me, but he was really into me, so I kept coming back for more. It was nice to feel wanted again.

    We had some things in common, and he was handsome and sweet. We had fun together, and he was always texting me to say hello and chat—again, that made me feel wanted.

    Eventually, Steve grew more distant. When I brought it up, it only seemed to get worse. But at this point, I was addicted to the feeling of being with someone again. I was addicted to feeling wanted and loved, so leaving wasn’t an option I was willing to entertain.

    The unconscious programming in my brain that would do anything to avoid rejection kicked in. I began to justify everything that should have been a red flag. I found myself constantly doing whatever I thought I needed to do to keep Steve from rejecting me, but it never seemed to be enough. I became unconsciously obsessed with being who I thought I needed to be to win his love and approval.

    Steve and I had both been through divorces and were both dealing with mental health issues. The relationship became very codependent, and I began putting my own needs aside to be his caretaker. He would never return the favor unless it was convenient for him, so I would just try harder to get him to want to return the favor.

    It never worked.

    As each day went by, I was becoming less and less of myself to be loved and accepted by someone who would never be able to give me what I wanted or needed. He just wasn’t capable of it. There was no possible way that I would ever be enough for him.

    He ended up breaking up with me, but shortly after we resumed our relationship on a casual basis. Deep down, I didn’t feel this was showing myself respect, but I allowed it to happen because again, I was trying to be who he wanted me to be—a casual friend-with-benefits.

    Our relationship eventually started to get more serious again, and it seemed we were headed back to exclusive relationship status when I found out he was dating other women behind my back. I’m so thankful I found out about this because it was the singular event that made me stop and get intentional about respecting myself.

    I realized how completely I had lost myself in this dysfunctional, codependent, and toxic relationship, where my only concern was avoiding feelings of rejection and being unlovable. It was the last straw for me, and I decided I was done tolerating it. I was done abandoning myself to get something he was never going to give me.

    I cut off all contact with Steve that day.

    You’d think that it would be easy to leave a relationship that is toxic. I mean, who wants toxicity? But the truth is, it isn’t easy.

    Why do we get into these tricky situations in the first place?

    My divorce had left me in so much pain, feeling rejected and unloved, that I was willing to do anything to avoid those feelings. Instead of being discerning and heeding the red flags that were, in hindsight, obvious, I jumped in and continued the pattern of proving that I was worthy of love.

    When you’re always trying to feel loved and accepted, you’ll ask yourself questions like, “Who do you need me to be to love me?” You’ll shape-shift to fit someone else’s needs and abandon your own. You may over-give, or shower your partner with gifts and affection, all in an effort to win their love so you can feel loved.

    The end result is similar to being rejected because you end up feeling alone—except this time it’s because you’ve abandoned yourself and your truth.

    You lose yourself, which, in the end, can be just as lonely as feeling rejected and unloved. That’s how it was for me. I spent so much time trying to prove my worth that I lost sight of who I was and what I deserved.

    I didn’t realize at the time that I needed to come home to myself first and love and accept myself before anyone else could ever give that to me.

    It turned out that leaving that relationship was an act of self-love and the beginning of finding peace.

    Was it easy? No. There were so many feelings that came up for me when I left the relationship. There was embarrassment that I had chosen him over myself so many times. There was the loneliness and pain that go along with the end of any relationship. And, of course, there was fear that I would never find that love and acceptance that I craved so desperately.

    So how did I do it? How did I find inner peace after leaving that toxic relationship?

    What it really came down to was finding peace within myself.

    When there is a void of some sort, we naturally want to try to fill it with something else. But when you try to fill the void with something external, it never works.

    If I had kept looking to fill that void with things outside of myself after my relationship ended, I would have likely bounced from one toxic relationship to another until I learned to turn inward and fill myself up from the inside.

    So how do you turn inward? Part of the reason you’ve gotten into a toxic relationship in the first place is that you don’t know how to do that.

    The act of leaving the relationship was the first step for me. It was a huge step. The feeling you get when you decide you’re no longer going to pretend you’re someone you’re not in order to gain someone’s love is empowering, and gives you a little boost of confidence that you’ve got your own back.

    It’s an act of love toward yourself.

    At the time, I didn’t think of it as an act of love, but in unpacking it later, I can see that it was. It was the first step in rebuilding my relationship with myself.

    The next part of the process for me was to reconnect with myself.

    We tend to get our identities tangled up with our partners’, and it’s easy to forget who we are without our relationships. That happened to me after seventeen years of marriage, and bouncing right into an unhealthy relationship didn’t help. I spent so much time worrying about who I was being and if I was good enough to be loved that I totally lost sight of my true self.

    Reconnecting with myself meant spending a lot of time with myself. I had become great at staying busy to avoid loneliness, but I knew I needed to learn how to sit with the discomfort of being alone in order to heal.

    I spent a lot of time connecting with nature. I started taking myself out on solo dinner dates and I went to movies by myself. And when the loneliness didn’t feel good, I sat with it while I cried tears of sadness, learning how to show myself compassion for what I was feeling instead of pushing the feelings away.

    For someone who has spent a lot of time avoiding rejection, being alone can be difficult. But it’s a necessary part of reconnecting with your truth, and you will learn, like I did, that it’s really not that bad. It’s actually refreshing and beautiful to have time with yourself.

    I also reconnected with my support system. When I was in the relationship with Steve, I didn’t make my friends and family as much of a priority as I once had. In my quest for feeling loved, I became so focused on the relationship that I not only abandoned myself but also some of the most important people in my life. I made some questionable choices when I was being who I thought I needed to be for him, and after leaving the relationship, it was time for me to reconnect with my true support system.

    But the most important thing I did to find peace after this toxic relationship was to learn to love myself.

    I started with a list of all of the reasons I didn’t deserve to be treated the way Steve had treated me, written with dry-erase marker on my bathroom mirror. Every time I looked in the mirror, I was reminded of why I deserved more. I also kept a list of all the things I wanted to believe about myself. I wrote a new list each day and eventually, one by one, I started to believe the things on that list.

    I made the decision not to date for a while so I could focus on strengthening my confidence in who I am without someone else. Through therapy and working with a life coach, I learned that my self-love issues were rooted in perfectionism, so I worked to lower the expectations I had for myself to a more realistic level.

    I learned that I was much happier when I was just focusing on enjoying the moment being an average human. In fact, I adopted the idea that we are all just average human beings. We all have unique gifts and talents, and there is no need to compete with one another to be exceptional. Average is a fine place to be, and I found embracing this attitude helped me navigate life with more compassion toward myself and others.

    The most important step I took toward self-love was learning how to surrender and accept the present moment as it is. If I was feeling a lack of self-love, I learned to sit with it and send love to the part of me that was feeling that way. I learned to not get hung up on the what-ifs and to appreciate who I am being in this very moment, which is all I know I have for certain.

    The journey to loving yourself is the most important one you will ever make. Self-love is a work in progress, of course, but knowing where you’re headed helps to know who you are, know your worth, and remind you to always choose yourself unapologetically.

    While the relationship with Steve was traumatic in many ways, I am grateful for it because I learned and grew so much from it. Needing to heal from the codependency and toxicity of the relationship created a beautiful space in which I was able to ground myself and find peace in knowing that no matter what, I always have my own back and I will always choose myself.

    It’s a serene feeling and I wish this for you too.

  • 7 Lessons That May Help You Find a Fulfilling Long-Term Relationship

    7 Lessons That May Help You Find a Fulfilling Long-Term Relationship

    “You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.” ~Buddha

    “You’re not in love with me, you’re in love with the idea of being in love.”

    Ouch!

    Kate (not her real name) and I had met online before Internet dating websites—let alone apps—were even a thing, and ours was a long-distance relationship.

    I was twenty-four, and she was twenty-three.

    Initially bonding over our favorite musical artists, we soon found ourselves sharing all kinds of personal stuff with each other—first over AOL Instant Messenger, and then via countless hours on the telephone.

    I remember being startled and confused upon hearing a voice I was now intimately familiar with coming out of a face I had never seen before (save for a few photos) when we finally did meet in person a couple of months later. It was jarring.

    Nevertheless, we embarked upon a “real” relationship, in the flesh.

    Our incompatibilities cropped up almost immediately, however, and became increasingly apparent each time one of us visited the other. Still, how could we deny the substantial emotional intimacy we had established?

    Her declaration to me—“You’re not in love with me, you’re in love with the idea of being in love”—seemed harsh and unfair. Who was she to say how I did or did not feel?

    Yet, there was a ring of truth to it.

    No doubt, I had projected my deepest longings for love and my idealistic vision of realizing it onto her. It wasn’t the first time I had done such a thing, nor would it be the last.

    The relationship with Kate crashed and burned rather quickly, intense as it was. Even though it became clear we were not right for each other, it was a painful dissolution. Disillusionment can be painful!

    I would endure plenty more heartache in my dating and relationship life for years to come, as I slowly learned how to love myself more and matured in my understanding of what constitutes a healthy relationship.

    Eventually, at the age of thirty-three, I met the woman whom—seven years later, to the day—I would marry. A wonderfully compatible, loving, healthy, mutually supportive, and lasting relationship is possible, it turns out. As of this writing, we have been happily coupled for sixteen years (the last nine as spouses).

    My observation is that when it comes to relationships, there are “no rules”—meaning, almost anything and everything can happen within the dynamics of two human beings relating to each other.

    Certainly, there are no guarantees.

    There are many factors at play as to when, how, and why we connect with others in the ways that we do, not to mention how long our relationships (of all kinds) end up lasting, and what kinds of changes they undergo.

    Since we have no control over another person’s feelings and choices, nor over what may happen to our beloved, relationships entail inherent risk and vulnerability. That’s the price of admission.

    All of the above notwithstanding, here are seven key things I’ve learned, with experience as my teacher, that may help increase the chances of finding and maintaining a satisfying relationship with a partner long-term, if this is something you are seeking:

    1. Love and accept yourself.

    Loving and accepting yourself—flaws and imperfections as they are—is paramount. It is also the best way to prepare for loving and accepting another person, who will come with their own flaws and imperfections.

    There is always room for growth, and it is admirable to strive to improve ourselves, but we are all, always, works in progress. And that’s okay!

    If we wait until we are “perfect” before we are willing to love and accept ourselves, we never will.

    It is natural to get frustrated with yourself at times, but you can still choose to love yourself anyway and be your own best friend by recognizing and appreciating the goodness deep within you and doing everything you can to do right by yourself and others.

    You don’t have to be perfect to be worthy of a loving relationship. Be the best “you” you can be and love yourself all along the way—not in a narcissistic sense, but rather in a self-compassionate one.

    2. Find a partner who is “compatibly neurotic.”

    You will get along best with someone who is what I like to call “compatibly neurotic.” By this I mean not necessarily someone who is neurotic in exactly the ways that you are (this might be a disaster!), but rather someone whose neuroses are compatible with yours.

    In other words, the things about them that might drive other people nuts, you find somehow endearing, and vice versa. You appreciate each other’s quirks and can more or less gladly live with them because they are part of the whole person whom you treasure and adore.

    3. Mutual respect is essential.

    This is a no-brainer, but it must be mentioned. No healthy relationship is absent of this. You must not only each harbor deep respect and admiration for the other, but you must demonstrate this consistently through your behavior.

    If you feel disrespected, it is your responsibility to communicate this to your partner calmly and clearly at the earliest opportune time. Own your feelings and express them as such—your feelings—without attacking the other person, passively or otherwise.

    If your partner feels disrespected, it is similarly their responsibility to communicate this to you, and it is then up to you to rectify it to the best of your ability. You want to nip potential resentment in the bud.

    Don’t assume the other person is aware of how you are feeling. It is important to be able to voice your feelings and ask for what you want or need.

    As far as I’m concerned, putting the other person down, especially in front of others, is a serious violation of respect that should be avoided at all costs.

    In my experience, when there is mutual respect there is a natural give and take that tends to occur with very little effort.

    4. Mutual interest is non-negotiable.

    Again, it should go without saying, but you both should want the same things in a relationship and be interested in a relationship of this kind with each other specifically.

    The object of your interest might seemingly possess every quality you find desirable in a partner; they might be attractive, kind, brilliant, share similar interests and values as you, and so on. If they are not interested in you or are not available for the relationship you are seeking, however, all those other qualities are rendered irrelevant. Painful, perhaps, but 100% true.

    Move on and find someone else who is interested, who is available, and who genuinely appreciates you. Don’t settle for anything less. You are far better off single than in a relationship missing this key component.

    Mutual interest is non-negotiable, meaning it’s a must. It also means that it’s not something that can be negotiated into existence; it’s either there, or it’s not.

    5. Learn from previous relationships.

    Previous relationships are some of your best teachers.

    They help you clarify what you do and don’t want in a long-term partner. They also give you practice relating to another human being. And it is often within the context of our relationships that we develop important aspects of our own character and grow as a person.

    In this sense, all relationships can be seen as beneficial.

    See past relationships, if nothing else, as part of your journey toward finding the fulfilling relationship you are now seeking.

    Keep in mind that we tend to have far greater appreciation for that which doesn’t come easily, so if you have struggled in this realm, the potential reward awaiting you may be that much greater.

    6. Take responsibility for your own happiness.

    Realize that you—and only you—are responsible for your own happiness.

    Do the things you love and that you find meaningful, partner or not. Yes, having a wonderful relationship can be one of life’s greatest joys and blessings. But no one else is capable of, nor should be responsible for, making you happy. That is your job.

    Cultivate great friendships, too. (And realize that with these a lot of the same things already mentioned apply.)

    To promote your own happiness, you must make self-care a priority, which includes setting healthy boundaries for yourself. Self-care goes hand in hand with self-respect and self-love and is much more likely to make you an attractive and appealing partner for someone else, as well as to yourself.

    7. Choose explorations over expectations.

    Put yourself out there. Meet people (this is required if you want to ultimately find a partner). Show up. Do your part. Put forth some effort. And, as much as possible, keep your expectations in check.

    Every connection you make is an opportunity to get to know someone, but you ultimately have no way of knowing where any such connection will lead.

    When things don’t work out with someone the way you had hoped, the healthiest thing to do is to presume that it is for the best. You have no idea what potential miseries you are being spared by not ending up in a long-term relationship with this person!

    In sum, the best attitude to have when searching for a partner is one of exploration over expectation.

    This can be a lot easier said than done –we are human, after all. But the more you can approach your interactions with others as explorations (this person seems interesting, I wonder if there is some possibility for connection?) and the more you can let go of expectations about what a given connection will amount to, the better off you will be.

    Be sure to attend to other aspects of your life, as well, including giving yourself other things to look forward to.

    —

    These seven lessons did not all come easily to me; some needed to be learned repeatedly, and some still present themselves as things for me to learn anew, or within some new context. But I find them essential to relating well to myself, my partner, and others in general.

    “Kate” was part of my journey toward eventually finding the lasting and loving long-term relationship I craved, a mutually nourishing and highly compatible one in which both of us could grow and thrive.

    You could say she helped me realize this by being one of the teachers on my path. I hope that I ultimately played the same “facilitator” role for her.

  • How I Stopped Making Men My Everything and Losing Myself in Love

    How I Stopped Making Men My Everything and Losing Myself in Love

    “Yes, love is all about sacrifice and compromise, but it’s important also to establish a limit. You shouldn’t have to throw your whole life away to make a relationship work. If you have to lose yourself to please your partner, you’re with the wrong person.” ~Beau Taplin

    When I was twenty, I fell in love with a man who became my everything. My close friends watched me becoming someone else because I found myself trying to ceaselessly knead myself into someone who would perfectly fit into this man’s world, even if it meant betraying myself in the process.

    I changed my worldviews to fit in with his. I changed my dreams and ambitions to better align with his. I gave up friendships I valued that he wasn’t comfortable with me having. There was nothing I wouldn’t have sacrificed for this relationship and its survival.

    The relationship was only ten months long, but in that very short space of time, it became the center of my universe. When the relationship ended, to me, it almost signaled the end of my life. I did not see any life beyond that man or the relationship I had with him.

    At the end of that relationship I was forced to go into the hard journey of self-discovery. By the time I turned twenty-two, I realized that I would be in grave danger if I continued defining myself and centering my life on men and romantic relationships.

    The end of that relationship and the devastation that came with it made me vividly aware of my tendency toward engulfment. I found myself being someone who allowed romantic relationships to over consume her and take up her whole life.

    And now, eight years later, my idea of what a loving partnership looks like is so different and much more freeing. These are the truths that I had to learn the hard way that have allowed me to love my partners without losing important parts of myself in them.

    1. A relationship or partner will never meet all your needs, so stop expecting them to.

    My relationship broke because I placed a heavy burden on it to be my everything.

    Many of us give our partners a god-like status and expect them to satisfy our every whim and need.

    I looked to my partner to be for me what I had never learned to be for myself, thus putting on to him a responsibility that was always mine to carry.

    I now firmly believe that whatever our partners give us should merely be a drop into what we are already overflowing with because we did the work of nourishing our lives first before looking to a partner to do that for us.

    One is bound to lose themselves in partners that give them things that they don’t know how to give to themselves—like love, validation, and confirmation of their worth.

    2. Controlling your partner is a sure-fire way to lose the love you fear losing.

    I feared abandonment so much that there’s nothing about my partner I didn’t try to control. I wanted his obsession with the relationship to match mine. That was my twisted way of trying to put on a leash his love and affection for me.

    The downside of losing ourselves in love is that when our partners don’t lose themselves in the relationship like we do, we quickly equate it to lack of love, rather than having healthy boundaries necessary for the thriving of any healthy relationship.

    In retrospect, I cannot imagine how suffocated my then-partner felt about my misplaced efforts. The thing I feared most ended up happening because he could no longer take the extreme lengths I would go to in order to have his love.

    3. A healthy relationship will not change you, but encourage you to be more of who you are.

    It’s hard to maintain a strong sense of self in relationships when you don’t know who that self is. If you don’t know who you are, people can easily scrunch you up into versions of who they desire you to be. It’s so much easier to resist a relationship changing you into someone you know you are not when you have a clear sense of yourself.

    I still believe that love should always be transformational. But if love changes us, it should always be for the benefit of ourselves and our life purpose, not to please our partners or to meet their idealistic fantasies of what a perfect partner looks like. Love can only do its work in us when we allow ourselves to be fully seen, loved, and accepted for who we are.

    4. You should never neglect other areas of your life because of a relationship.

    There is nothing as thrilling as meeting a possible soulmate. It’s tempting to lose yourself in the new relationship and change your regular routine so that you can focus on this exciting new part of your life. This never turned out well for me.

    By the end of my relationship, I had enmeshed myself so deeply in this man’s world that I did not have my own world to go back to. My relationship became the most important thing, and I lost sight of every other beautiful thing I had going for me before I had him.

    A healthy relationship should never alienate us from our own lives but should be able to peacefully co-exist with all other parts of our lives.

    5. Your individuality should never be a threat in a relationship.

    I know we romanticize the idea of becoming one with our partners. We know the poems about becoming so intertwined with our lovers that we don’t know where we end and they begin. But love should never mean losing sense of who you are as an individual.

    We don’t have to be spitting images of our partners for love to mean something. When your partner first met you, they fell in love with your individuality, and it would cease to be love if you had to change the very things that drew them to you.

    Sacrificing ourselves for relationships will always be an act of self-betrayal. Loss of self is a cost of love I have sworn to never again pay. A healthy relationship is one where we can find a balance between being independent and interdependent.

    6. Be okay with loving in small doses.

    Love does not have to be all-consuming to be real.

    I struggled a lot with loving at a slow pace; I wanted everything, and I wanted it right now. I gave too much too soon hoping to get my partner hooked on to me. But now I understand that love takes time and it matures with time. It’s okay to keep certain parts of your love to enjoy and share later with your partner once the relationship has solidified and become more grounded.

    We want to stuff ourselves with love and affection and get shocked when we lose our balance in relationships. Love is much more satisfying when we savor it bit by bit, a day at a time.

    For me, surviving a relationship that was my everything, first and foremost, meant learning to develop my sense of self-worth (outside of my romantic relationships).

    It’s easy to lose yourself in a relationship. When you feel unlovable, you subconsciously believe that you need to give yourself up to avoid rejection. You can also find yourself obsessing over this one connection because, “Wow, someone finally loves me,” and you will do anything and everything to try and keep that connection.

    Life had to take me on a journey of learning that happiness can be found anywhere and not only through romantic relationships. When I discovered the idea of “multiple streams of happiness” centering myself, my life, and my joy on a romantic partner became close to impossible. Because now, in my late twenties, I have many beautiful things about my life that bring me great happiness, and should I fall in love again, it would merely be one of the many different streams that fill my life with joy.

    Now, on the other side of engulfment…

    I want my future relationships to be filled with freedom.

    I want a love where we can be apart while being beautifully together.

    I want my partner to have many other beautiful things about their life outside of me without feeling like I am not enough for them.

    I no longer want a love that I drown in but a love that will always let me come up for air; a love that puts me on steady ground, and never a love that I feel lost in.

    I want a love that reminds me that before we belong to each other, we will always first belong to ourselves.

  • How I Stopped Feeling Unworthy of Love (And Finally Learned to Receive It)

    How I Stopped Feeling Unworthy of Love (And Finally Learned to Receive It)

    “I hope you find love, but more importantly, I hope you’re strong enough to walk away from what love isn’t.” ~Tiffany Tomiko

    When I was in my early thirties, I briefly dated someone right after my divorce.

    It was one of those fast and furious things that had no label and left me wondering if I made most of it up in my head.

    It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. How many times had I ended up feeling rejected and abandoned? I was trying so hard to impress a partner, but no matter what I did, I only seemed to push them away.

    Tearfully, I shared my pain with a spiritual advisor and psychic and asked for her guidance.

    She suggested I consider the joy that might come out of pleasurable and easeful partnerships. She asked me, “Briana, why don’t you shift your energy and focus to that aim?”

    But it wasn’t so easy. I was attached and hung up on this guy. Why didn’t he love me like I loved him?

    Another thought popped into my head, which I hadn’t realized was there before.

    Before I could voice it out loud, she said, “Oooohhhh, Briana. I can hear you already. You think if you’re not in pain, then your art and other creative works won’t be any good.”

    I burst out into another round of sobs.

    Because it was true. I did think that way.

    I thought I performed at my best when I was at my most miserable, and if you took away my misery, I would not only be common, but worse yet… mediocre. I would truly be the bad artist I always thought I was.

    Every aspect of creative expression would become cliched, trite, and uninteresting. There wouldn’t be anything special about me.

    And so I would become unlovable.

    The drama proved my worth, one way or the other; the drama of performing well enough to earn love. 

    It wasn’t until four years after that conversation that I finally stopped clinging to my pain.

    Because I realized that pain didn’t make something (love) more authentic—it just made it more difficult.

    Maybe you know where I’m coming from. Maybe you feel that you, too, need to “chase” a relationship and suffer for it to really matter. For you to really matter.

    That’s just not true. There is a far better way to build relationships, and that’s what I would previously have called “boring” and “too easy,” but actually is about respecting your own, authentic self and opening up to love.

    Here’s what I’ve learned about letting go of feeling unworthy of love and finally learning how to receive it.

    1. Take off your mask.

    Like me, you might believe that to attract a lover and be worthy of love, you have to pretend to be a perfect partner, through things like making them feel wanted and desired, looking beautiful, and being funny, witty, smart, and interesting all the time.

    All of these tactics might very well appeal to a potential partner. Certainly, it might make them interested enough to get to know you better, and maybe even date you for a while.

    But none of that means it will soften their heart and make them fall into a soul-shaking relationship with you.

    In fact, while I used to think that I needed to pretend that I was something I wasn’t so that I’d be worthy of love, I just kept deterring the other person.

    Why?

    Because while the glitz and glamour are appealing, it also, on a deeper level, left me completely unavailable.

    In the same way, you are pushing away a partner by performing all the time.

    You see, your partner is going to feel as if they have to perform just as well, and while that may be exciting in the beginning, unless the mask comes off, it also gets exhausting very quickly.

    A loving partner will be less concerned about how many degrees you hold or how much you make at your job and more concerned that you’re passionate about what you’re doing.

    A loving partner doesn’t care how many facts you can recite. They may enjoy your company if you’re a great conversationalist, but that won’t necessarily make them feel something for you.

    The way to a partner’s heart is to make them feel safe enough to explore and experience their own authentic self.

    You do that by feeling safe enough to express yourself—without someone else’s permission.

    Because if you don’t communicate that you’re comfortable in your own skin, this partner won’t feel comfortable or safe opening up to you, either.

    And if a person can’t open up to you, warts and all, they can’t fall in love with you. It’s as simple as that.

    When you put on a performance instead of taking off your mask, you unconsciously communicate a fantasy of reality, because that feels safer than vulnerability. And then you energetically and non-verbally tell your partner that you can’t handle their vulnerability, either.

    And isn’t it freeing? You, in all your vulnerability, are the person they want and need in order to be their own, true self.

    2. Get in touch with your own feelings.

    What many of us do when we feel unworthy of love is numb our emotions and pretend we feel something other than we actually do.

    But a loving partner wants to know you’re angry when you’re angry and why you’re angry.

    Guess what happens if you’re acting one way, while feeling something else? That’s right, drama.

    If they think you’re angry, but they are not sure, because you’re trying hard to plaster a smile on your face, say, “I’m fine,” and stuff it down, you’re not really fooling anyone, just confusing them.

    Your energy and your verbal expressions are going to contradict one another, and that is the seed of dramatic conflict.

    And this type of drama is so annoying because you are effectively keeping a partner at bay, and refusing to connect with them, for fear that they wouldn’t like the “real” you.

    But because they can’t access “the real” you, there’s no real glue holding them there, and they wind up leaving you anyway.

    So show them what you feel, while letting go of the fear that they will reject you for doing so. By reconnecting with your emotions, you show up as your authentic self and make it safe for them to love you.

    3. Be open to meeting someone with the same level of consciousness.

    Around the end of August last year, I started dating someone. He wasn’t originally what I would have imagined for myself, but he turned out to be exactly what I need.

    Right from the get-go, things went really well; we talked for hours on end, and I felt an instant connection.

    There were butterflies, yes, but not the kind of gut-twisting, obsessive sensations I have had in the past, which usually means I should run.

    This was more like, “Ah, you fit nicely… and kinda feel like home. What took you so long?”

    He shows up with fresh flowers, texts me “good morning,” and sees the humor in situations like that time my cat got jealous and bit him when he tried to kiss me.

    While before, I would have instantly dismissed this type of relationship as being too easy (and the lack of drama would have shown me that it wasn’t real love), I now see it for what it is:

    A relationship in which partners join together from a place of inspiration, as opposed to a fear-based need to be filled up with the other.

    This is a partner who already has a higher level of consciousness and is looking for purposeful building. There’s no drama, there’s no chasing, and there are no games or acts.

    This is the key to feeling worthy of and receiving love—finding a partner who is open to the same. The criterion for attracting such a partner, however, is that you are ready to meet them.

    I wasn’t ready four years ago. It took me that long to go from believing that relationships had to be a rollercoaster of emotions to opening up to a loving partnership.

    Ultimately, it’s about you finding your authentic self and realizing that this version of you (the real version) is so worthy of love and should be loved. That’s the premise for a relationship that, instead of being soul-sucking and anxiety-ridden, is the perfect space for self-growth and joy.

  • My Insatiable Quest for Love and How I Found It When I Stopped Looking

    My Insatiable Quest for Love and How I Found It When I Stopped Looking

    “I can’t say when you’ll get love or how you’ll find it or even promise that you will. I can only say you are worthy of it and that it’s never too much to ask for it and that it’s not crazy to fear you’ll never have it again, even though your fears are probably wrong. Love is our essential nutrient. Without it, life has little meaning. It’s the best thing we have to give and the most valuable thing we receive. It’s worthy of all the hullabaloo.” ~Cheryl Strayed

    Like many young girls, I spent my childhood daydreaming about love and finding that perfect person who would “complete me.” Through being exposed to media, it was even further indoctrinated into me at a young age that I needed to find this romantic love to be whole.

    This intense desire for a partnership was juxtaposed to me witnessing my parent’s toxic relationship.

    I watched my mother feel absolutely miserable with my father. And I watched my father manipulate her over and over again. Then, she would tell me all the horrid details that were not meant for young ears. This left me incredibly confused and honestly deeply afraid of love and intimacy, yet it created an insatiable need to somehow find it.

    I knew that I didn’t want anything close to my parents’ marriages; however, the love in movies and literature that was often portrayed as wildly romantic didn’t seem any healthier. It was dramatic. Co-dependent. Heartbreakingly painful—till someway at the end it all turned out okay and everyone magically lived happily ever and after.

    Even when I looked at other examples of romantic love within my family and friends’ parents, there always seemed to be something missing. From a young age, I wondered if healthy, romantic love was actually real or just something people daydreamed about.

    Fast forward a few years, I was in my first relationship. He was gorgeous, intelligent, and he spoiled me with gifts and compliments. However, I was unbelievably co-dependent and wanted someone to love me so desperately that the relationship was just as toxic as the ones I had seen in romantic films growing up.

    Sure, it was passionate, and the romance was intoxicating, but it was also deeply manipulative at times, because he knew I would never leave. He held all the power over me. I was so desperate to find someone to love me that I would put up with anything. He could treat me like a trash, and I would still stick around. We both knew it.

    After we broke up, I continued to have lackluster at best, but usually incredibly painful romantic relationships. By the time I entered my mid-twenties I was so jaded and romantically bruised that I fundamentally believed healthy love didn’t exist.

    Then COVID-19 happened, and my entire life changed. I ended up unexpectedly moving back to my hometown, my career totally shifted, and I was living a life I would have never imagined six months ago.

    The shutdown gave me a lot of time to reflect on what I believed and what I would put up with in a relationship. I came to the point through journaling, reflection, and lots of therapy where I realized that I was willing to be single for the rest of my life, if that is what needed to happen, instead of settling for love that didn’t add deep purpose and positivity to my life.

    I didn’t even know if this kind of purposeful and positive love existed, but I knew that I wasn’t going to put up with the alternative anymore.

    At some point during this time—as life would have it—I met someone. We chose to walk into love together. From the moment our relationship blossomed, it was different. It was steady. Unwaveringly stable. And the healthiest relationship in any capacity that I have ever had.

    I found that when I was treated with deep respect, consistent communication, and grace, my old tendencies to be co-dependent and distrustful started to fade away. The foundation of our relationship was built from so much honesty, kindness, and true desire for the other individual to be happy and healthy that I was able to relax and be myself.

    Looking back, I always thought that I was the sole problem in my past relationships. I was too emotional. I was too needy. My personality was too big. I was simply too much.

    In some ways, I did display unhealthy behaviors and actions in my past romantic relationships. I own that. And I have worked diligently with a therapist to learn how to develop new, healthy patterns and have grace when my old behaviors come back and learn how to let them go.

    What I realize now is while I did (and still do) have personal work to do to show up as an incredible partner, I am worthy of love.

    Not the love that I saw my parents share. Or the love the media portrays as romantic. I don’t want that kind of love. I want love that is full of support. Love that is healthy. Love that is steady. Love where we are allowed to have healthy conflict and come to a resolution together. Love where I am allowed to make mistakes. Love that allows me to be fiery and emotional and for that to be beautiful.

    What I have learned this past year from dating this human is that that kind of love does exist.

    I want to make clear that this kind of love doesn’t and shouldn’t only have to exist in a romantic way. Maybe you’ll find that kind of love from a friend, a mentor, a parent, or an animal, or hopefully all of the above. But regardless of the category of relationship, we, as humans, are all meant to be deeply loved regardless of how deeply flawed we may or appear to be.

    Our job is to not settle for love that is lackluster, or abusive, or emotionally damaging. Equally important, we cannot settle for that kind of love from ourselves.

    I was lucky enough to find this soul-warming love in a romantic partner; however, there is a part of me that believes if I hadn’t showered that kind of love to myself and the people around me first, I may have not stumbled across this person.

    Maybe they would have totally passed by my life without even me recognizing they are the love of my life. I believe it took me treating myself in the way I deserved to be loved to recognize it from someone else.

    I had to come to a place where I treated myself and the people around me with love and grace in order to recognize the healthy love I had been looking for my entire life, even if I couldn’t put into words when I was a child or a teenager.

    So, from a woman who didn’t believe healthy, fulfilling love existed, I am here to tell you that it truly does. Your job is to not settle for less. Cultivate the love for yourself that makes your heart feel warm, spread it among the people you love, and expect it in return. It is out there, my friends. Don’t give up.

  • My Attraction Experiment: Why I Created a Dating Profile with No Pics

    My Attraction Experiment: Why I Created a Dating Profile with No Pics

    “Being attracted to someone’s way of thinking is a whole different level of attraction.” ~Unknown

    I have been divorced for ten years now and thought it would be fairly easy to find “the one” once I was set free from the ties of the wrong one. To my surprise, it has been harder than I thought it would be. I have found many but not “the one.”

    I have been on Match, Bumble, Plenty of Fish, and blind dates, and even dated a longtime friend to only find myself single going into my fiftieth year on this planet. It has taken me a long time to figure out what I have been doing that has attracted what isn’t right for me.

    I have been in years of therapy, talking out my thoughts and recognizing patterns that don’t serve me. After my marriage, I was in a two-year relationship with a guy who cheated on me. I was in a four-year relationship with a guy who stole a quarter of a million dollars from me, and my fifteen-year marriage was not a friendship.

    With all three partners there was one common denominator: I put a lot of energy into my looks to connect with them. In other words, I wasn’t an innocent party in these crimes of the heart. I got charged when a man was really turned on by me. I was addicted to someone wanting me. I needed to be desired.

    These men were overly visually stimulated and easily physically distracted. They all fixated on my physical and tolerated my mental. I never had a friendship with any of these guys. I had lustship.

    They questioned my deep, soulful emotions. They turned a cheek to my equanimity mindset. They made a face to my immense empathy. They shrugged at my compassion toward others.

    After my last relationship ended, I made an oath to myself. I was going to be celibate and single until I turned fifty. I had been holding onto a really nice bottle of champagne, reserving it for a special occasion. I went to the fridge with a sharpie and wrote, “Drink October 2021.”

    One restless Monday night, I decided to write out who I was and what I was looking for. I started writing with the mindset, “If I were going to go on a dating site . . . this is what I would write” sort of thing.

    As I was writing and reading and editing, I started to really like what I was reading. I thought to myself, “Damn—I am a good writer!”

    I wrote about the good, the bad, and the ugly in a charming, humble way. I was honest to the core about my shortcomings and my endeavors. I left out nothing because I had nothing to lose.

    It became a cathartic experience for me. I rewrote it and reread it until I said to myself, “Damn—I am a really good person!” I got to a place where I wasn’t embarrassed to share the raw truth, yet wasn’t at the total other end thinking, “I don’t give a f*** what you think.” I was in a good place.

    I was proud of myself and wanted to share my story. I felt very accomplished for just being able to put into writing my love life and be able to read it like it was a heartfelt story. It made me smile.

    That Monday night I decided to do an experiment. I got a one-month membership to Match.com and paid extra to only allow people I “liked” to view my profile. I created my profile calling myself “AbbieNormal,” a reference to the hilarious Mel Brooks movie Young Frankenstein.

    I answered all the questions about myself even filled out the random topics Match prompts to help people to get to know you. I typed out the long summary I had created, and when it came time to upload a profile photo, I chose not to. This was the experiment.

    The experiment was to see if any man would be interested in my mind before seeing my body. I was a single woman looking for a single man with a profile that had a novel to read and no photos.

    What guy would read instead of view? What guy would trust without being shown? What guy would take the depth without superficial bait? Who was going to buy the cow without seeing it was a cow?

    There is no doubt that my last guys wouldn’t respond. My ex-husband would think I didn’t post a photo because I was fat. The boyfriend that took my money would think I was some woman trying to get away with cheating on her husband.

    I looked through profiles of over one hundred men and chose about twenty to view my profile, or as Match calls it, “liked” them. I had very little faith that any man would message me. It was an experiment for which I had already fabricated the conclusion.

    My write up started like this, “I have never been single longer than a blink, and I think it’s partially because men are visual creatures. I am taking a gamble with no photos. I would prefer you to read about me and decide if you want to continue than to see me and make my words fit into the pretty little package that I am, emphasis on pretty, not ego :)”

    I went to bed feeling at peace with myself for allowing people to read about the real me, and confident that this experiment would not disrupt my champagne oath. I woke up the next morning, Tuesday, to find three men had messaged me. I was shocked!

    Each one mentioned how refreshing it was to read such an authentic profile. One man did say that a photo would be nice, but no pressure, which I thought that was sweet. Another one mentioned that he too was a big Young Frankenstein fan. He got points for recognizing the reference.

    I wanted to write them back, but apparently on Match you cannot message people unless you put at least one photo up, which is silly because I already gave them money. The site must be owned by men. I was hesitant to post a photo, so I waited another day.

    Wednesday morning one of the three men messaged me again asking to connect. I felt the need to respond so that my intentions didn’t seem like a ruse. I posted a photo and responded to the three men saying the same thing to each one, “Thank you for taking the time to read my profile.”

    On the Wednesday after I posted my photo, I received messages from the rest of the twenty men that I had “liked.” Before keeping track of them became a full-time job, I gave the first three guys my attention. They were my priority.

    Guy 1 – fizzled out after a few texts  :/

    Guy 2 – asked for more photos  :[

    Guy 3 – we texted, talked, and met  🙂

    I did give some time to a handful of the second-round guys that messaged me after the photo went up. One guy didn’t understand how I wasn’t bitter about losing a quarter of a million dollars. Another made a comment that I should post more photos because I am so beautiful. And most of them wanted to meet right away.

    I also kept looking through all the profiles that Match sends daily as their algorithms do their matchmaking. Although I have to say, they always sent me my ex-husband’s profile as a “Super Match,” and he is by far not that.

    The experiment was pretty much over. I had a photo up, and now I was acting like I was dating or something. I needed to focus on my champagne oath and just stop.

    My experiment surprised me.

    I gained a new appreciation for the male species / human race. Who knows what intentions the three guys had when choosing to message me solely on the basis of my words and no photo? I would like to believe that they were genuinely interested in what they read and wanted to ride with faith that there would be a physical attraction. That is my final answer.

    The experiment taught me a lesson.

    I was being hypocritical as I looked at every man’s photos picking out who was going to have access to my profile. As painful as it is to say that I was looking at men’s physical attributes, my attraction always came from what they wrote. I do know without a doubt, if a man “liked” me with no photo and his words moved me, you better believe I would message him back.

    The experiment gave me a new perspective.

    Like I said, I was not innocent in how men viewed me or what type of man I ended up with. I wanted someone to see me for who I really was, but my shell was sparkly and shiny while my center was elaborate and profound.

    I realized I had longed for someone to want, desire, and be turned on by the elaborate and profound and then be happily pleased with the sparkly and shiny.

    For all of my dating life, men wanted me for the sparkly and shiny then tolerated, challenged, and ridiculed the elaborate and profound. The experiment allowed me to feel wanted for who I truly am for just a brief moment, and it was an incredible feeling.

    I will forever remember this experiment as the moment I learned who I really am in terms of a partner. I had been blaming the men or the quality of humans or my poor judge of character, and it wasn’t any of those things. I had to learn who I am to understand who I wanted.

    I bet you are wondering what happened to Guy 3, right? I am still dating him. As for the champagne oath—that I’d be celibate and single until I turned fifty—let’s just say when I told Guy 3 about my oath he said, “That’s not going to happen, you better just drink it.”

  • What to Do If You’re Single and Feel Like You’re Missing Out

    What to Do If You’re Single and Feel Like You’re Missing Out

    “Hope for love, pray for love, wish for love, dream for love…but don’t put your life on hold waiting for love.” ~Mandy Hale

    Going to weddings alone, with no plus-one to take along with you. Watching the couples dance, thinking, “Will there ever come a time when that is me on the dance floor?” Going on holidays alone, with no partner to share memories with. Listening to stories of friends’ weekends away, as a reminder of just how solitary your own weekends are. If you are anything like me, you might recognize these signs of single life.

    “Will my situation and circumstances ever change?” I’d think as I struggled to fall asleep at night. I’d hold a pillow as a source of comfort, yet this too disappeared in the morning, when I woke up alone to face the day.

    Many single people think like this, yet rarely voice these thoughts. But sometimes we hit a turning point when we start to see everything differently—and then start to act differently.

    The turning point for me came one Saturday morning. After I had gotten dressed and ready, I sat down on a chair next to my bed. A photo of a couple friends was in front of me. They were on holiday, with smiles on their faces, standing under a bright blue sky with a clear blue sea behind them.

    As I looked at this picture of serenity and happiness, I had a sinking, empty feeling in my stomach. I thought, “God, will that ever be me?” I looked down in front of me and felt a sense of despair, worried about what my future held but paralyzed as to what I could do about it.

    At that moment I thought, “Enough.” I walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I was tired of feeling sorry for myself. I was tired of watching the world go by. I was tired of the sad thoughts going around in my head like goldfish in a fishbowl.

    I asked myself then, “What do I have to be upset about?” I had a roof over my head, clothes on my body, and food in my mouth. That’s not to say it’s not normal to long for companionship when you’re single; it’s just that I had focused so much on what was wrong with my life that I hadn’t focused on what was right about my life. And I’d also focused on what was wrong with myself—as if there must have been something wrong for me to be single for so long.

    Until I became my own cheerleader, how could I expect others to start cheering for me? I decided then and there to take action. If I wasn’t happy with myself, I had to go out and change, and do things to change. Not just daydream and hope life would turn around by itself.

    So, what did I do?

    I’ve worked on enjoying my single life more and joined some dating apps to “get in the ring.” The results have proven mixed. Like with all things in life, there are good days and bad days. But on the whole, it’s been a positive experience because I’ve met some great people in my search for the person who ‘gets me.’

    I’ve realized we can only experience true happiness in life if we focus on ourselves instead of waiting for others to focus on us. People can join us for our stories, but we cannot expect them to complete our stories for us. We make our own paths in life. Walking on paths well-trodden will never be as satisfying as carving paths of our own, however rocky or imperfect they may be.

    So, what helped me move ahead? Here are four things that may help you:

    1. Work on loving yourself and your life.

    Work on yourself before trying to attract somebody else. As a natural result of working on yourself you will exude a glow of confidence. Your zest for life will radiate from your face, and you will naturally look and feel better to others.

    Work on developing positivity in your life. Embrace what you have, not what you wish you had or what your neighbor has. Read more, study more, travel more. Exercise for twenty minutes a day, try cooking one new dish a week, read or watch something every day that inspires you.

    Why should people get to know you? Evaluate the qualities you like about yourself and sing your own praises in your head each time you doubt how worthy you are.

    2. Be proactive.

    Join a few dating apps, take a few chances, take the time to connect with people. Bumble and Hinge are easy to use. You’ll meet new people and engage a new mindset.

    Get active and make the effort to swipe for a few minutes each day. What’s more, enjoy the process. Look beyond the photos. Recognize that there is a whole person behind the photo if you are willing to give that person a chance. Look for the gold in the profiles.

    3. Pay more compliments.

    If you see something you like on a profile, don’t be afraid to say it. You could make somebody’s day with your words. It costs nothing and it could provide just the lift they need. And the beauty of giving compliments is that you’ll likely get some in return—things people may have thought but otherwise not shared if you hadn’t gone first—which can help radically build your self-confidence.

    4. Focus on achieving one big goal a month.

    Write down twelve goals for each of the twelve months in the year. Buy a paper diary and write down how you are going to fill your time for the next week. Do something you wouldn’t ordinarily do. The person you seek should not compensate for all the things you are not; they should be an extension of all the things that you are. The more you live life, the more life you will have to share with a significant other.

    Review your progress once a week. Ask yourself, are you making too much time for people that do not have the time for you? Ruthlessly discard the things that don’t make you happy (people, pursuits, things) and selfishly embrace the things that do. Be generous with others and selfish with yourself.

    So, in summary, what can you do to improve your dating life?

    Treat yourself with the care you would treat a friend, broaden your mind and your approach when using dating apps, compliment freely, and give yourself one big thing to look forward to each month.

    True happiness in life can only be experienced when we focus on inside joy, not when we look for external fixes. Invite people into your life to join your life story, not to build your life story. Be your own cheerleader first to allow others to cheer for you.

  • Love Doesn’t Mean Being a Hero or Being Saved

    Love Doesn’t Mean Being a Hero or Being Saved

    Most of us grow up believing that one day a handsome prince or beautiful princess will come our way and lead us into a life of “happily ever after.” No one knows what’s going to happen, but we’re certain it will be magical. We spend our childhoods desperate to grow up so that our lives can finally start when we meet “the one.”

    The one who will make us happy. The one who will take all our cares away. The one who will love us, and only us, forever and ever.

    Finally, we will be wanted and desired. We will be happy and feel great. Now our lives truly begin.

    Only it doesn’t quite work out like that. I found out the hard way.

    The Reality of Relationships

    Relationships work well when two people take responsibility for taking care of themselves and their partner. Together they create a great life. They discuss what each of them wants to do and make plans on how they can make it happen. They support each other in achieving their couple goals as well as their individual goals.

    No one expects the other person to make anything happen for them while they do nothing.

    A healthy relationship requires two individuals who both give their best efforts to being the best and most loving version of themselves. This requires action with a sense of purpose and agency.

    The Notion of Romanticized Love

    The notion of love we grew up with is unhealthy. It portrays one partner—usually the female—as the victim that needs rescuing, while the other partner—usually the male—is the hero that saves the victim from tragedy or from herself.

    This model serves no one. It is an outdated fairy tale that instills unhealthy beliefs in us that don’t match the realities of human relationships.

    I grew up believing that I was lacking and had to wait for someone to give me worth and purpose. I believed that I had to earn someone’s love and that then, they would take care of me and provide me with a good life.

    At no point did I ask myself what kind of life I wanted. In my mind, this was up to whoever was going to choose me. I took a completely passive position in life. I didn’t need to have visions or make plans because why would I, if my life was going to be provided by someone else?

    Now, it might sound ridiculous to put it all like that, but it’s true, and not just for me. I see it over and over again in my private practice as a psychotherapist.

    We may say that we are fully functioning individuals who don’t want to be rescued, but this is not what is happening within the adult relationships we are actually experiencing.

    The Problem with Romanticized Love

    Countless men and women come to me feeling disappointed, sad, and angry. They played out the roles they were given perfectly, and it did not lead to “happily ever after.”

    Instead, there is relationship conflict, high drama, and painful disconnection. Eventually, there is nothing left but disappointment, bitterness, resentment, and hopelessness.

    “What is wrong with me?” or “What is wrong with my partner?” they ask, but I can’t answer those questions because it’s not the people that are at fault; it’s the roles they unconsciously play.

    Many of us do well when we’re single, but once we enter a relationship, we naturally drop into the roles of our unconscious relationship blueprint: the way we believe relationships work. And for most people this consists of either the role of the helpless victim or that of the enduring hero.

    Sadly, both roles are highly disempowering, disrespectful and, in essence, unloving. This means that a healthy relationship is impossible.

    The Unloving Roles of Romanticized Love

    When I saw myself as someone who had to wait for someone else to make my life worthwhile, I didn’t realize that I was disempowering myself. I didn’t realize that I believed something that was untrue. I never questioned it. I just acted it out, by waiting.

    I was miserable and far from able to create a happy and healthy life for myself. What can you learn from sitting around and waiting? I didn’t engage in life. I didn’t seek out opportunities and experiences that would have taught me new skills.

    I stopped myself from learning, developing, and growing by sitting around and waiting, because what if I was busy doing something else while “the one” came looking for me? Then I would have messed it all up! It just didn’t seem worth the risk.

    But also, I didn’t really have any ideas of my own. I followed my career plans, but apart from that there was not much going on in my life.

    Believing myself to be a person who would find her worth and happiness in someone else utterly disempowered me. I did not see it then, but I can see it now as clear as day.

    I also never realized just how much my expectations burdened my partners and how these expectations ultimately ended the relationships I had with them.

    The Fallen Hero

    I believe that my past partners wanted to be my hero. I believe they tried.

    I know I wanted to be good for them and earn their love. I know I tried.

    But life just doesn’t work that way. Relationships don’t. Love certainly doesn’t.

    But we don’t know what we don’t know. And I didn’t know that 1. I wasn’t incomplete or broken, and not in need of fixing and 2. no person can gain their worth or happiness by saving or fixing another person. I’m pretty sure you didn’t know it then either.

    We got the rules of love all wrong, and the roles we play made it impossible for us to connect and relate to our partners in healthy ways.

    You would not believe how many fallen heroes I see in my practice. The majority of them are men, but the victim and hero roles are not gender-specific. They depend on the dynamic each couple creates, and some couples take turns in being the victim and each other’s hero.

    When I sit with a fallen hero, I sense utter deflation. They have tried everything they can possibly think of. They have taken responsibility for things that weren’t their responsibility to start with. Very often, they neglected themselves in an attempt to make their partner happy, to stop them from complaining, to please them in whichever way they possibly could think of.

    They are exhausted. They feel utterly drained by all of their attempts to be the hero not only their partner wishes they were but also who they wish they were. They’re disappointed in themselves and they feel like a failure, while also secretly—and sometimes not so secretly—seething with resentment toward their “difficult-to-please” partner.

    I relate well to these clients because I have also taken on this role in some of my relationships. I have tried to be the best person I could possibly be for someone else.

    The person who tries to fix all of their problems. The person who will go above and beyond to help them get what they want. The person who won’t say no and who is friendly to everyone. The person who is available at any time and will do anything—whether they feel like it or not, whether it’s a reasonable request or not, whether it’s good for them or not.

    Because the thing with heroes is that their sense of worth comes from making others happy.

    And so often it actually seems to work, which is why we keep trying. But it’s a self-perpetuating problem that eventually eats you alive. It consumes you so much you completely neglect yourself. You become a slave to the hero conditioning. You become cocooned within your role while all your dreams and wishes and desires silently suffocate.

    And that is just sad and unloving.

    No man or woman should have that pressure put on them. No one should ever accept that burden. There is no room for these kinds of unrealistic expectations in healthy relationships.

    Our romantic partners are not our saviors.

    They are not meant to fix us.

    And after all, we don’t need fixing because we are not broken!

    But we will play these roles because that’s what we think love means. We play them until we know not to, until we understand that they can never work and that they will only ever lead to two things: losing ourselves and losing our relationships.

    Letting Go of Relationship-Hostile Beliefs

    It’s not our fault that we play these roles. These roles are incorporated in our relationship blueprint, which consists of mostly unconscious beliefs about relationship roles and rules. Roles and rules we observed as children. Roles and rules that have also been culturally reinforced for decades.

    But awareness and understanding spell an end to these unconscious beliefs and patterns. It doesn’t matter which roles we assumed or which dynamics we co-created. We do not victimize ourselves to anything anymore, not even our unconscious conditioning.

    Instead, we let go of what no longer serves us and learn new, healthy, and loving ways of connecting and relating to our partner.

    Change happens when we see how what we have been doing makes no sense.

    If I am not broken, then why would I want someone to fix me? How could they even do that?

    If I don’t need to earn my self-worth, then why I am people-pleasing? Why am I doing things for others they are perfectly capable of doing themselves?

    If I want a healthy relationship, then why am I doing things that are disempowering and disrespectful? How can I expect to create something healthy when the input is unhealthy?

    What we believe about love, relationships, and our roles in relationships is what makes us miserable and costs us our relationships.

    We need to find those beliefs within ourselves and realize that they are not and never have been true. At the very least, they are not helpful and keep us from getting the one thing we really want: a healthy and loving relationship.

    And so, if the problem lies within us, then so does the solution.

  • Why Playing Hard to Get Doesn’t Work (and What Does)

    Why Playing Hard to Get Doesn’t Work (and What Does)

    Happy Couple

    “Confidence isn’t ‘They will like me.” It’s ‘I’m perfectly fine if they don’t.’ ” ~Unknown

    After the death of my husband, I spent my thirties as a single mother of four children. It was a tough decade. I often felt lonely and frustrated, and dating was a nightmare.

    I constantly gorged on self-help books, hoping that they’d reveal whatever my “problem” was so that I could fix it and finally find the love I so desperately craved.

    Many of these well-intentioned books contained dating tips designed to make someone fall in love with me. They invited me to steal hearts, catch and keep partners, and otherwise engineer my romantic success by adopting certain behaviors considered to be desirable.

    Could it really be as simple as getting off the phone first, not returning a phone call, or saying that I was busy even though I was home folding laundry? Since I really wanted love and it was for the good of all, I thought, “Why not? All’s fair in love and war, right?” The thing is, these strategies never worked for me.

    Perhaps you can relate. You want to share your life with someone, and you’re more than willing to do what it takes to make that happen. Maybe you hope to learn a few easy hacks so that you can check finding love off your to-do list and get on with your life.

    We’d all like to find a fast and easy way to get the things we want, myself included. Unfortunately, looking for the easy way didn’t work for me, and it wasn’t until I accepted that and got down to business that I attained any results worth achieving.

    The problem with relying on dating strategies like these is that they only address behaviors, not beliefs. Your behaviors are important, but it’s your beliefs that drive them.

    If you don’t address the source of your behaviors, lasting change won’t be possible and your behaviors and beliefs won’t be consistent. This is why some people seem “fake” and other people who do the exact same things come off as genuine.

    Many relationship books encourage us to behave in ways that are consistent with having confidence and valuing ourselves highly. If you don’t truly value yourself, acting like you do might mask this fact, but eventually the truth will come out.

    No amount of game playing will turn you into a high-value person. Believing in your own value and acting accordingly will.

    Take an honest look at yourself with a true desire to discover, not criticize yourself. Be loving and gentle with yourself and be curious.

    Are you treating yourself well? Do you establish and keep good boundaries in your relationships and at work? Do you stand up for yourself when you need to? Are you taking good care of your body, finances, and home?

    Listen to the thoughts you have about yourself. Are you kind to yourself in your own mind? Do you beat yourself up constantly? What do you truly believe about your own worth? Whatever your beliefs are, your relationships will eventually reflect them, regardless of which dating strategies you try.

    If you know that you aren’t valuing yourself highly, address that instead of pretending in an attempt to convince someone else to value you. A person of high value will naturally command respect, without counting the minutes until it’s acceptable to return a text or agonizing about whether or not to give someone a call.

    How can you begin to value yourself and show up in the world as a confident person? Will you eat healthy foods? Get enough rest and exercise for your own well-being, not just so that you can look good on dates? How about saying no to working late for the fourth day in a row and cancelling plans with your friends (again)?

    Are you willing to set boundaries for how you will be treated in relationships? What do you do when your date is late, doesn’t call when he or she promised, or is inconsiderate? Do you ignore it and hope they will change or do you address the issue?

    Choosing to treat yourself well isn’t selfish; it’s necessary for a healthy self-esteem. We all value people who are confident and value themselves. People will treat us the way we teach them to. It’s never too late to make a new choice.

    Games like not calling or playing hard to get are intended to help us behave how a naturally confident person would behave. It’s always better to cultivate genuine confidence than it is to fake it. True confidence comes from valuing ourselves.

    Once we reach adulthood, it’s our responsibility to create the lives we wish to lead. Accepting this responsibility can be daunting at times, but it’s one of the most empowering things we can do for ourselves. No one else can do this for us, as much as we wish they could.

    When we step up and decide to lead the best lives possible, commit to being the people we want to become, and refuse to back down when it’s hard, we will value ourselves more highly and inspire others to do the same.

    Ultimately, this is much more rewarding than pretending to be busy on Saturday night and refusing to take phone calls at certain times.

    As for me, I finally learned how to make better choices and found real love instead of relying on tips and tricks. It has made all the difference.

  • How to Defeat Your Insecurities and Tell Someone You Love Them

    How to Defeat Your Insecurities and Tell Someone You Love Them

    Couple in love

    “Our own ego judges us, so we become afraid of self-awareness. If it’s not puffing us up to look better than others, it’s tearing us down—anything to block us from feeling at one with reality and who we are.” ~Beth Maynard Green

    Have you ever had insecurities stand in your way?

    Have you ever felt afraid to tell someone how you feel?

    Have you ever felt like someone could never love you the same way you love them?

    We all have insecurities that hold us back in our professional life, our social life, and most of all, our love life. This is something I’ve struggled with a lot.

    As someone with a serious physical disability who is basically a quadriplegic, I have often told myself I am not complete.

    I’ve told myself I’m not enough, that I’m not good enough or strong enough. I’ve told myself that other people are not interested in knowing me or that they have already made all sorts of judgments about me.

    Through my self-criticism, I’m actually imposing my self-image on other people, assuming they see me the same way I see myself. That way, I have an excuse to refrain from being vulnerable because I already made their minds up for them. I don’t have to open myself up and see what they actually think. I have an excuse not to take chances.

    So, in a twisted sort of way, I’m actually feeding my ego while also “protecting” it from any actual feedback that I could learn from. Also, I’m missing out on the possibility that I could reach out and make a meaningful connection because maybe my self-criticism is off base.

    How Insecurities Blocked Me From Telling Someone How I Truly Felt

    I remember struggling with insecurity when I met a girl in college. She was beautiful and talkative, and I was an attentive listener. She liked to tell stories, and I loved to listen to her slightly British-sounding Caribbean accent.

    She was energetic and outgoing while I was more laid back and introverted. Our temperaments complemented one another. We hit it off right away.

    I really liked her, and I felt like she might like me too, but my insecurities kept getting in the way. In my mind, she could never like me the way I liked her.

    We spoke on the phone late into the night and spent every moment we could together. But we were just friends.

    So I talked around the issue. I poked at it from one direction and prodded at it from the other. I did everything I could to avoid being the first to say something really dangerous, to avoid showing my true feelings.

    My subtlety was without compare; my hints were so obscure that even I wasn’t sure what I was talking about. She never suspected a thing.

    Eventually, my ego got tired of protecting me from the terrible fate it knew would result. I decided to try something different.

    I got up the courage to let her know how I felt about her, and she reciprocated. The feeling was unbelievable. She was my first and only real girlfriend.

    From then on, the world would feel like a profoundly altered place. For the last twenty years, she’s been a constant reminder that my ego has no idea what it’s talking about!

    How to Find the Courage to Tell Someone You Love Them

    As someone with a physical disability that leaves me dependent on others, I’m no stranger to insecurity. I’ve told myself all sorts of stories about how unworthy I am.

    If I can find my way past negative self-talk, anyone can. Allow me to share some ideas that helped me along the way.

    1. Break up with your ego.

    Often, when we accuse someone of having a big ego, we mean that they are overly confident. But sometimes we can be overly confident about what we think reality actually is.

    I took a while to learn this, and I’m still learning this every day, but the ego is a double-edged sword. It can make you feel great about yourself, and also terrible.

    What the ego loves to do is tell stories about reality; it likes to believe that it has everything figured out.

    We think we know exactly where we stand, exactly the way it is that people perceive us. Sometimes it’s easier to “know” we will fail than it is to actually try and risk embarrassment.

    It’s time to challenge our assumptions and burst the ego’s bubble.

    2. Stop playing telepath.

    When we attribute thoughts or motives to others, this is often just based on our own insecurities. This mental chatter can even be randomness. Thousands of thoughts go through our heads throughout the day, many of which we ignore as inconsequential or even nonsensical.

    You’re doing yourself and the other person a disservice by trying to read their thoughts through a cloud of your own insecurity.

    I did this a lot with her facial expressions and intonation. I was reading her all over the board, convincing myself that she was everything from madly in love with me to pitying me and using me as a charity case.

    This sort of thing can drive you crazy, and at some point, I knew I had to stop because it was destroying my ability to be genuine. If I’m not being myself, pursuing a real relationship with anyone, let alone someone I have real feelings for, is pointless.

    3. Leave your mind; enter the moment.

    When you want to tell someone you love them, you want to feel fully in tune with them. If for some reason you decide that the other person doesn’t feel the same way, you want that decision to be based on that person’s actual behavior, not some random doubt on your behalf.

    As an introverted person, my ability to project my own insecurities on the world is strong. I have to make a conscious effort to focus on what is actually happening in the interaction. 

    This can sometimes be done with a mini mindfulness exercise. Just focus on the sights, smells, and sounds in your immediate vicinity. Most importantly, focus on the other person and what they’re saying, not what you’re saying to yourself in your head.

    4. Let your heart speak; let your ego be vulnerable.

    Keep it real, but accept there are no guarantees. If you’re nervous, show it, or even say it. If you’re not sure how to say how you feel, it’s okay to say so and take a moment to figure it out.

    If you’ve known this person long enough to feel like you’re ready to share intimate feelings, they probably like you enough to allow you the time to gather your thoughts. If not, this probably isn’t the time to broach the subject.

    In my case, I can remember stumbling over several different versions of what I wanted to say before settling on one that seemed appropriate. It’s been a long time, so I don’t remember exactly what I said, but the words will be different for everyone, and, honestly, they don’t matter so much as the authenticity of the feelings behind them.

    5. Remember, no matter what, you will be okay.

    When it comes to love, we often stop ourselves because we fear the consequences we’ve dreamed up. “What if I ask someone on a date and they say no?” But the truth is that, whatever the consequences, we have the capacity to move on.

    Living your life in fear is far worse, never knowing how it feels to take a risk on love.

    When you accept the idea that you will be okay despite any social consequences, you will act with far more freedom — which is invaluable in areas even beyond romance. Because fear of social consequences can cripple us in so many different ways, from making friends to career advancement.

    If I Can Do It, I Know You Can

    I know you’re thinking that you don’t have the courage to tell that special person what you’re truly feeling, but I believe in you. If I can do it, I know anyone can.

    See yourself taking that first step and feeling the relief of being open and honest for the first time. Envision the smiling face of that other person in response to the heartfelt words you’ve shared.

    Picture the newfound confidence you’ll feel because you were rewarded for your bravery and authenticity. Imagine the new life that is ahead of you, a life shared with someone you care about.

    This reality could await you if you would just abandon your self-criticism and the insecurity, and open yourself up to true possibility.

    You’re probably telling yourself that this sounds unlikely. I know this because I’ve told myself the same thing, but I know from experience that the negative self-talk is a lie more often than not.

    Take the first step, and follow the principles I outlined above.

    A beautiful new romance is waiting for you.

  • When We Hold onto Relationships That Hurt Us

    When We Hold onto Relationships That Hurt Us

    “Relationships are like glass. Sometimes it’s better to leave them broken than hurt yourself trying to put it back together.” ~Unknown

    Human beings are genetically programmed to desire love. Embraces are as important to us as food and water.

    Perhaps that’s why when we find someone—the wrong someone—we’re often too blind to see it.

    We feel it and yet we hide it away, write it off as an odd case of commitment phobia or just a hiccup in our new relationship, oblivious to the fact that were heading into a future of sleepless nights, constant worrying, and consistent phone checking.

    Even when every hidden fiber within us tells us to walk away, we stay.

    I recently experienced something similar. We first met back in high school, different people from completely different worlds. He was the guy that had all the friends; I was shy and quiet.

    Fast forward five years and we meet again. This time he’s in pre-law and I’m a writer trying to figure out her calling.

    We meet for drinks, coffee, a movie here and there, and before you know it we’re walking hand in hand. I’ve met his friends, his parents, even his grandparents. To someone on the outside, this looks like something every healthy couple would do, except we weren’t healthy—far from it.

    He always had his phone, and yet my texts remained unanswered. He only wanted to hang out on occasional evenings, routinely made plans without following through on them, was never where he said he was, yet still referred to me as his girlfriend when we met someone he knew.

    He was a guy that sucked at communicating, and I was the girl that needed it.

    He was physical, I emotional. He wanted convenience; I wanted something that swept me off my feet.

    It was a relationship doomed from the start; I was just too stubborn to see it.

    I would find myself constantly asking for advice, yet always heard the same thing over and over. Get out of there. Leave. My excuses remained the same. He works all day. He’s busy. I just wasn’t ready to admit the truth to myself. Ignorance at its finest.

    Even when I had the courage to bring up the things that bothered me, somehow he’d challenge all my worries. “I’m just not a texter,” he’d say. “I prefer conversations face to face.” Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that response. It was the dishonesty I felt behind it.

    I didn’t feel like I was in a relationship, yet he’d confirm that we were. He seemed to know exactly what to say to get me to stay.

    I couldn’t see that I was the only one putting in the effort. I made sure I was always there for him when he needed me, listened to him, even surprised him at work with coffee, putting myself out there, hoping that he would one day reciprocate.

    He only talked about himself during our conversations, and when it came time for me to share, he seemed distant and uninterested in what came out of my mouth.

    He was bound to a different city in the fall, and with his lack of communicating there was a deep nagging feeling that it was only a short time before I had my heart broken again.

    I had wanted a relationship to work out so bad that I had chosen to ignore all the warning signs that this one wasn’t right.

    Even when he left for a month and I suspected he’d cheat on me, I still stayed. Why? I could only draw one conclusion: I had been treated like that so many times before, I expected it. And I believed it was all I had to look forward to.

    Though I tried to explain to myself that I deserved so much better, I wasn’t willing to hear it.

    But one day I surprised myself. I became more independent. I began to pull away from him. His texts would go unanswered for hours; my obedience to go to him whenever he called began to wane.

    I stopped initiating conversations and instead sat back and began to enjoy all the things I had ignored. I made a list of things I had always wanted to do and did them. It kept my mind off things and opened my eyes to the truth.

    As the time passed, I would like to think, he became the one that needed me; he had just realized it too late.

    I questioned whether or not he had treated me that way because he knew I would always be there for him; then, when I no longer was, he wanted that same caring person back. Had I been nothing but a convenience for him the entire time? I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

    When it came time for me to explain, my answer was simple: My gut knew it wasn’t going to work from day one, but falling head over heels for him at first, I chose to ignore it.

    I guess I just wanted so badly for things to work out I didn’t bother to think about how unhappy I was; I chose to mask all hurt with a small smile and laughter.

    Life can be confusing and cruel sometimes, but a fantasy can’t hide the truth, no matter how badly you want it to.

    No one deserves to be pushed to sidelines, to feel like second best. If there’s something telling you to stay away, if even the smallest of your radars begin to go off, walk away.

    Leave knowing that you dodged a barrage of emotional bullets instead of realizing you had to fight to keep your head afloat to keep from drowning.

    If someone wants to be in your life, you shouldn’t have to change anything about yourself to keep them.

    If they are willing to get to know you, they will. Period. All the wrong people may step into your life, and each one will no doubt leave their own emotional scars, but when the right one comes? You’ll know. You’ll feel it.

    I was lucky enough to have a best friend who stuck by me even when I chose to ignore all her warnings. When I finally realized my mistake, she simply smiled and asked if I wanted to watch the newest horror movie.

    Friends like that are so important to have in your life. Coming from a hopeless romantic who prefers books and writing to real people, this was hard to admit.

    I can only say that when another man comes around I’ll be taking it slow.

    For all the friends out there, even if you don’t agree, just be with them for every upsetting phone call and annoyed text. Your non-judgmental support might just be the reason they realize they could have something better.

    We all need to learn for ourselves in order to truly grow. Even as much as we would like to save someone from the heartache they will no doubt experience, we need to take a step back, wait, and console them when they need it.

    To the boys and or girls reading, realize what you have while you have it, because there’s nothing worse than finding out when it’s too late.

  • 5 Ways to Experience the Kind of Love You See in the Movies

    5 Ways to Experience the Kind of Love You See in the Movies

    Love Is in the Air

    “Maybe it’s not about the happy ending. Maybe it’s about the story.” ~Unknown

    Growing up, I often pretended my life was a movie, and created quite a few awkward situations by trying to force real life to look like a romantic comedy.

    In the movies, everything was so electric.

    People didn’t just care about each other; they adored each other. They didn’t just date; they had a montage of amazing memories, complete with tandem biking, skipping, hand-in-hand, in a field of flowers, and dancing in the rain.

    That’s the kind of love I wanted—the intense, always exciting, never disappointing, made-for-the-big-screen kind.

    And I was willing to fake it ‘til I made it.

    I remember this one time when I was dating someone who quite obviously didn’t care for me. (I gravitated toward a lot of men like that back then. My Pavlovian response to disinterest? Obsession, every time.)

    I told him I didn’t think we should see each other anymore, hoping he’d put his finger on my lips to silence me, then kiss me after realizing what a huge mistake it would be to let me go.

    That didn’t happen, but I still held out hope for a cinematic realization that we were meant to be.

    I left his family-owned restaurant, got ten feet down the street, then turned around, ran back in, leapt into his arms, and said something horrifyingly cheesy, like, “You complete me! I’ll never let go!”

    I didn’t have to. He let go. And then pushed me away. And probably filed me under “crazy stalker” in a mental folder for girls he’d never call again.

    (Somehow those lines sound a lot less worthy of a restraining order when said by Renee and Kate.)

    I’ve since realized that I fixated on romantic love because I was trying to fill a massive void that stemmed from low self-esteem. And I inadvertently repelled men with my neediness, obsessive behaviors, and lack of self-awareness.

    I’ve also come to learn that the type of romance depicted in these comedies differs from real love—and that we need to complete ourselves first if we ever hope to experience it.

    Real love isn’t about finding your one and only soul mate, sweeping them off their feet, and maintaining a fantasy worthy of popcorn, soda, and waterproof mascara.

    Real love is messy. It takes effort, sacrifice, and compromise. It entails both highs and lows—moments both extraordinary and ordinary.

    And it’s not reserved from romantic relationships. It’s what inspires us to hold a door for an injured stranger, hold a friend’s hair when she’s battling cancer, and hold a parent’s hand when he’s taking his last breaths.

    It all comes from love. Different flavors, of course, but love nonetheless.

    All this being said, I still want to experience the kind of love you see in the movies. Not the romantic kind (though I’ve always wanted to dance in the rain).

    I’m talking about something altogether different, but equally magical and transformative.

    It’s the kind of love that creates a world so beautiful, we don’t need escapist fantasies.

    The kind of love that fills us with something far greater than lust and euphoria.

    It’s something we can all experience by doing these five things, and in doing so, create a better, kinder, more loving world.

    How to Experience the Kind of Love You See in the Movies

    1. Save the cat.

    In his definitive guide to screenwriting, the late Blake Snyder instructs writers to introduce their movie hero with a “save the cat” moment—meaning the hero does something kind, which makes the audience like and sympathize with him or her.

    While there’s no one whose sympathies we need to earn, because we’re (hopefully) not being watched, we can all create a better, more loving world by looking for these “save the cat” moments.

    It’s when you step in to defend someone who’s being bullied, or grab an extra sandwich for the homeless person sitting outside, or take a little time out of your busy day to help someone who’s struggling—with anything; homework, a heavy bag, or a heavy heart.

    The best way to experience love is to be willing to give it. We can do this every day—no field of flowers required.

    2. See the good in people.

    In a world where we’re constantly bombarded with bad news, it’s easy to become jaded. It’s tempting to assume the worst in people and live behind a metaphorical suit of armor, ever ready for someone to do something that justifies our cynicism.

    But when we constantly look for the worst in others, we miss out on the best.

    You can certainly find your fair share of cynics in the movies, but for most Scrooges, there’s a transformation—a shift in their fundamental beliefs that changes how they engage with the world, thereby changing the world they experience.

    If we want to see a world of beauty, hope, and kindness, we need to be willing to look for these things.

    This doesn’t mean we should ignore the harsh realities of life; to create positive change, we need to first acknowledge what needs changing.

    It just means we open our eyes to see those “save the cat” moments when they happen. People do good things every day. If we want to nurture a loving heart, we have to recognize and appreciate them.

    3. Inspire the best in others.

    We’re more likely to see the best in others if we proactively aim to inspire it. It’s not always easy to do this; unlike in the movies, the Jerry Maguires of the world don’t always get the business and the girl in the end.

    But we’re all drawn to people with visions—people who put other people before profits, people for whom integrity is more important than notoriety.

    When someone stands for something good—something that benefits not just that person individually, but the world at large—it touches something inside us, and motivates us to devote ourselves to a purpose that can help create a better world.

    Choose a purpose—maybe not for your lifetime, but for this time in your life. Write your “mission statement.” Wrap your love around a cause. Aspire to make a difference, no matter how big or small, and you will.

    4. Check your ego.

    As story consultant Jen Grisanti wrote in her Tiny Buddha post, in the best movies, the protagonist starts with an ego-based desire—to get the job, or revenge, or adoration and admiration—and ultimately reevaluates their goal to better serve and connect with others.

    It’s when Bruce Almighty stops obsessing on being a successful news anchor and instead, becomes a loving, attentive partner to his fiancé, and someone who actually appreciates reporting on good people doing good things.

    We all have goals and ambitions, even those of us who consider ourselves spiritual. For some of us, those ambitions might be more about making a living or making ends meet than making a name for ourselves.

    But many of us are chasing a feeling, whether we hope to feel worthy, valued, or important. Ironically, the things we chase, when caught, often leave us feeling emptier than when we started.

    To truly feel fulfilled, we need to set goals that reflect not only what we want to gain, but what we want to give.

    I used to think “you get what you give” referred to reciprocity, but I now know this means that the giving itself is the getting. If you’ve ever experienced profound joy after helping someone else, you know this too.

    5. Believe in love (and love yourself).

    In the movies, a protagonist might not believe in love from the get-go, but if not, that’s his or her journey—to open to the possibility of love again, despite having been hurt or betrayed.

    Then there are those heroes who start their journey obsessed with finding love, much like my former self, only to realize they first need to heal and learn to love themselves.

    We’ve all been wounded in some way, and most of us have learned to either push people away or cling to them in attempt to lessen our pain.

    Real love is neither fearful nor needy. It’s not about broken people completing each other. It’s about coming to each other healed and whole, ready to complement each other.

    To experience this kind of love, we need to let go of how we’ve been hurt in the past, and believe that there are people out there who will treat us with care, kindness, and respect, if only we give them the chance.

    And we need to show ourselves we’re worthy of this kind of love by treating ourselves the same way, and letting go of people who don’t.

    Real love isn’t a fairy tale, but it’s so worth it, and possible if we work for it.

    —

    I still like to think of my life like a movie, but not because I’m waiting for someone to ride off into the sunset with me.

    I think of my life like a movie because I want to be inspired. I want to be kind, I want to see the best in people, and I want to do my part to create the kind a world where we all inspire the best in each other.

    The goal isn’t a happy ending. It’s to live a happier story. And that starts with how well we give and receive love.

    **If you enjoyed this post, you may also enjoy the upcoming book Tiny Buddha’s 365 Tiny Love Challenges, launching October 6th. Pre-order now and you’ll instantly receive $300+ in free bonus gifts, including several eBooks, eCourses, and meditations on love and relationships.**

    Love is in the air image via Shutterstock

  • The Key to Finding Your Ideal Partner in Life

    The Key to Finding Your Ideal Partner in Life

    Silhouette of a Couple

    “The most perfect relationship is the one that supports you in fulfilling your destiny—the one that empowers you to be everything you are meant to be in this world and beyond.” ~Jan H. Stringer

    As I was sitting up in my bed, reviewing my “Ideal partner wish list” from six years ago, I was a little appalled. I had no idea how much I had been influenced by Hollywood when it came to identifying what I wanted in an ideal partner. It was watermarked all over my wish list. It was hard to ignore.

    There was an undertone of entitlement in my wishes. They sounded more like demands than requests or desires.

    My list looked like I was ordering a custom healing balm to soothe my loneliness and lack of self-worth. It didn’t look like I wanted a partner to enhance my experience of life and reach deeper levels of intimacy with.

    I used to believe that if two people loved each other, things would work out. As I got older and wiser, I understood that the “love” they referred to was not the kind I had known: demanding, repressing, and controlling.

    It was the kind that encompasses self-love and respects each person’s desire to be themselves. I didn’t even know what that kind of real, mature love looked like.

    I grew up on romantic movies with happy endings and romance novels where unbridled passion takes over logic. In those movies, no matter how difficult the circumstances around the couple were, they would somehow resolve those issues and walk off into the sunset to live happily ever after.

    The books I was reading followed the same scripts. I allowed these stories to settle in my mind and heart as truth, as something I should expect—every time.

    After seeing my belief system, expectations, and how I approached relationships, the reality of it all sat in my stomach for a couple of days. It was no surprise that I had pretty tumultuous relationships since writing that list.

    Naturally, I decided to write a new list. I wanted to see how far I had come, if at all. At the last minute, I heard the voice in my head saying, “Write it in a way that reflects self-love.” So I complied.

    This time, the items on my list seemed far from the requests of an unripe princess who is throwing a temper tantrum. They came from a place of knowing myself deeply and wanting to give myself nothing less than the best.

    I knew my unhealed places and my must-haves based on my core values. By now, I had had enough experiences and relationships to know which qualities I need my partner to have for the relationship to not take away from my existing happiness, and contribute to my growth as a human being.

    It took me a long time but I get it now: A partner is not a cure for all my problems, or for how good I feel about myself. He is only responsible for his half: his happiness and his choices. He is off the hook from the responsibility of making me happy.

    Yet, I let myself desire what I desire. For instance, historically, I am attracted to men who can fix anything around the house and find ingenious ways to overcome a problem they encounter while doing that. It’s sexy. I desire that. I enjoy that. But my happiness does not depend on it.

    There is even a bigger, unexpected benefit to the new version filtered through self-love: this new list feels real, achievable, and believable to me. Because it is based on truth I have gathered about myself. This, of course, increases its power and my faith in it even more.

    Since I wrote my new list almost three months ago, I feel relaxed in the knowledge that the right partner will show up when he is due. Not a minute sooner or later. And I have no control over that.

    I kick back and live my life, enjoy relationships, grow through them, and do not make the guys I date the potential father of my children right away. I let them reveal who they are and I reveal who I am in time, and see if there is enough overlap for us to continue.

    If you had told me two years ago that I could relax into the arms of the Universe to lead me to my ideal partner, I would not have believed you.

    I no longer play games or shape-shift to gain and sustain someone’s interest and love. Even though the price of this wisdom was high, I still feel grateful for all my heartaches and disappointments. Through my experiences, I found invaluable pieces of me that I will never give away.

    If I am here today, enjoying the peace of this knowing, anyone can get here. Here are a few steps to get you going in that direction.

    1. Instead of worrying about how you’re pleasing your partner, your boss, or your friends, start paying attention to your own emotional responses to life.

    See what excites you. What kind of a life do you imagine having if all your wishes came true? Get a little notebook to carry with you at all times and write down everything about you.

    “I find crop circles fascinating,” “I don’t enjoy cooking except for when I invite company over for dinner,” “My dad calls my mom at work every day. I like that. And so does she.” Get to know you. That is the gateway to knowing what to look for in a partner who is ideal for you.

    2. Pay attention to how you meet your own emotional needs.

    What makes you feel cared about? What pisses you off to no end? What do you do when you feel sad, lonely, or desperate? Who do you share your joys with? What kind of a response do you like to get for them? How do you find inspiration in life? What takes away your trust and what keeps it strong?

    Knowing the answers to these questions will help you know what would keep you happy or what would not take away from the happiness that you create for yourself.

    3. Imagine that you are a non-judgmental secret self-love agent and your job is to provide a report of your findings of this inner research.

    Write this report on yourself from a place of getting to know the person who has lived on this planet, in this body all these years. It is meant to be a loving mirror of who you are, what tickles you, and what takes away your joy.

    4. Write your new “ideal partner” wish list based on the person you know yourself to be.

    Create an avatar for the partner who would complement you and who can support you in becoming the man/woman you are here to be.

    Change and embellish this process as you like and don’t pressure yourself. It could take days or weeks to complete. Allow yourself to enjoy the process of getting to know yourself. Write this new list as a celebration of who you are based on what you find out, accept, and love about yourself. That combination is irresistible!

    Couple silhouette via Shutterstock

  • Are You Frustrated in Your Search for True, Unconditional Love?

    Are You Frustrated in Your Search for True, Unconditional Love?

    Love

    “Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” ~Rumi

    Have you ever wondered if there is such a thing as true love, like in the good old movies of Casablanca or The Notebook? Maybe you’ve found your true love. Or perhaps you’re still searching.

    When I was a teenager, I was mesmerized by this dream that someday there would be someone who would love me so unconditionally that he would literally die for me. After all, you see that all the time in the movies.

    After the tangible basics of food and water, love is our most essential need for surviving and thriving as living beings. We first experience love through our parents when we’re young. This lays the basic foundation for our growth and journey in life.

    Since I was unable to recall being loved or shown any affection as a child, I held onto this dream that someday, somewhere, someone would truly love me. Subconsciously, this underlying desperate craving and desire for love drove all my relationships.

    I expected romantic relationships to fill a spot deep inside me where there was a colossal empty hole. Whenever I fell in love, my heart would open up totally and engulf the other with an ocean of love. But my love came with a condition, that they should and would love me back unconditionally.

    I’d asked my first true love once, “Why do you love me?”

    He replied,“Because you love me so unbelievably much, I can’t not love you.”

    That was my dream come true, or so I thought. I ended up marrying my true love, had three beautiful children, and committed diligently to a roller coaster ride of a nineteen-year marriage.

    My marriage of true love had intense polarities similar to my emotions and mental states. I would swing from divine happiness when he met my expectations to the crushing and wrenching of my heart when my needs remained unfulfilled.

    To avoid painful conflicts, I trended toward being accommodating and then slowly progressed into being passive and abject—just to make sure I would always have his love.

    We shouldn’t let another person or event define our sense of self and worth, for this places us into the role of the lesser or the victim. When we play that role, then obviously we will attract or sustain relationships that will mutually fulfill that role.

    This passive submission became quite natural for me, as my sense of worth was totally defined by my husband. I thought I knew he loved me, so I would do anything to maintain his approval and love.

    The dynamics of our relationship remained such over the course of our marriage until I started to heal from my childhood past and my true self started to emerge.

    Gradually as my true self of worth, esteem, and courage started to take shape, I started to look for respect and mutual understanding. This challenged my husband’s passive controlling role, and  we started to drift apart.

    Divergence toward opposite poles led to differences in values, interests, and wavelengths until our soul connection died a slow death and we eventually parted ways. I used to cry myself to sleep, alone, on most nights. My true love was not as real or lasting as I thought.

    Later, I met a beautiful African drummer who freed my spirit, as his music would touch and fill that colossal hole that was still there. His exotic, handsome looks and charming manners made me feel like I was the most important and beautiful woman in the world. Again, I poured my heart open and gave all my conditional love.

    In the early part of any relationship, we can be blinded to the true nature of the person if our internal lack and need form our filters of perception. We will only see what we seek to find, and the other will consciously or unconsciously reflect what we crave and need.

    As our relationship progressed, I started to see his true colors.

    My African god wanted me to marry him as a free ticket into my country as much as I wanted unconditional love in return. He played on my neediness for love by using demanding and chauvinistic behaviors to control me.

    I ended that relationship promptly and spent weeks nursing the pain and tears of a broken heart. Why was I not able to find someone to love me as much as I loved them? That was all I wanted in life, to be loved unconditionally.

    If we love from the place of lack, no person or event can ever fill that hole. Moving from one person to another might change the scene and scenario, but eventually the same conflict, issues, and imperfections will surface again.

    A few years later I went on a trekking trip to the Nepal Himalayas and fell in love with a mountaineer and his quiet strength.

    In him, I sensed the spirit of the mountains and the freedom of his soul. He carried within him the peace and calm that filled my colossal hole again. In him, I experienced tenderness and wholeness.

    He carried my photo with him to the summit of highest mountain in the world. No man had ever declared such extent of love for me. I was certain this was true love. But alas, he was a married man. So the only love that I thought was true love was not to be had.

    This was the most devastating pain since my marriage ended. I knew that true love simply did not exist, or if it did, I didn’t deserve it.

    In deep grieving I wept, curled up for days in bed, and slinked back into the hole of despair. Without love, this life was void. It was like breathing without air and living without a heartbeat.

    In the depth of that suffocating pain, my soul was stripped bare, and in that totally exposed and vulnerable state, I surrendered to life. In the total surrender, acceptance held me within the pain and hopelessness. And I slept.

    Over the days that followed, a peace emerged, and then as spontaneous as the sun can shine again after the clouds have moved, something shifted within me.

    I was already present there as unconditional love itself. Unconditional love for the imperfect me, the hurting, lost, unloved child; the desperate woman I had grown to be, who sought for the definition of my worth through everyone else but myself.

    I thought I would find it in another human being who would be the love of my life because I never had it from my parents. I craved unconditional love but I never loved unconditionally because I never knew it in myself.

    When I dropped the search and surrendered, it simply unfolded. I realized my true love had been right here all along, within me. It was me, in my purest form, when all my layers of pain and perceptions had dropped. There was no more hole, for I had found my true and divine love, and this love now overflows not from lack but from abundance.

    So if you’re still searching or wondering what true love is, know that it’s right here within you. It’s your purest essence—unconditional love for yourself and for others.

    Heart in clouds image via Shutterstock

  • What We Need to Do Before We Can Have Happy, Loving Relationships

    What We Need to Do Before We Can Have Happy, Loving Relationships

    “Once you have learned to love, you will have learned to live.” ~Unknown

    Ever since I was a young girl, relationships have fascinated me, particularly romantic ones. I had beautiful fantasies of my perfect partner appearing and completing me. We would fall in love and live happily ever after.

    As a child, I believed that being in a romantic relationship, and especially being married, meant lasting happiness. All the love and joy I would ever want or need would be mine when “the one” arrived. Daydreams of my soul mate filled my tween brain.

    This fairy tale view of relationships didn’t disappear when I came of age, but followed me into adulthood when I married a man that I knew in my gut simply wasn’t right for me.

    At first, it was exciting to be someone’s wife and to have a husband, but my high expectations quickly created tremendous disappointment for me. We both demanded that the other change, and the relationship quickly became one filled with resentment and contempt.

    After struggling to “work on” our relationship and seeing no improvement, we separated and eventually divorced. I was devastated and bitterly blamed him.

    He was the “bad guy” and I was the innocent victim. I lacked the awareness necessary to examine my own actions and learned nothing, except to fear entering into another relationship.

    The only thing that I knew for sure was that I never wanted to go through such a painful experience again.

    I had no idea that I had any power at all. I felt like I was at the effect of what others said and did, and I was so easily wounded. The world of men and relationships felt very scary and I was apprehensive when I re-entered the dating world.

    In what I now understand was an attempt to protect myself, I made terrible judgments and generalizations about relationships and men.

    My reality reflected these fearful thoughts, and in the year following my divorce I dated men who were perfect examples of the stereotypes I adopted. Even though I had left my marriage, nothing had truly changed and, in fact, through my own fear had grown worse.

    In spite of this, having a relationship with a man still remained a strong desire. I certainly didn’t want to repeat the past and I refused to settle for just any romantic relationship. With absolute resolve, I vowed that I would have a healthy, happy, close, and loving relationship.

    This became my intention, and I became passionately committed to learning and doing whatever I could to get me there.

    For over a year I studied the ways in which romantic relationships worked and how they could be close and loving, but was discouraged and frustrated by most of what I read. It seemed that most of what I learned required the effort of both partners.

    While I understood that a happy, healthy relationship takes two people, I knew I had to first work on myself.

    My question became: “What can I, and I alone, do to create a close, happy, and loving relationship?”

    As I studied over the next few months with this new distinction, I noticed something unexpected and wonderful unfolding.

    I had shifted from how to find the right man and get him to give me love and make me happy, to learning who I had to become in order to create and maintain a close, loving relationship.

    This was a brand new way of looking at things and a brand new way of being that was incredibly exciting for me.

    For the next two years, I learned as much as I could and put into practice everything I was learning. It yielded radically different results than I had ever gotten before. All of my relationships greatly improved, including, and especially, my relationship with myself.

    My relationship with myself had always been love/hate. Now, as I became more and more aware that I truly am empowered to create loving relationships as well as a wonderful life, I began to see myself and others in a new light.

    My new understanding of myself and others became: We are all infinitely and eternally beautiful souls, intrinsically worthy of love.

    Each one of us are intrinsically worthy of love, not because we are entitled to other people giving it to us, but because we are love. We are all whole and need nothing outside of ourselves to complete us. These words weren’t new to me, but for the first time I understood and felt the truth of them.

    For so long I had been trying to force others to give me love, manipulating them, making demands, giving with an expectation of receiving in return (also known as barter), and it only led to frustration and resentment.

    It struck me all at once that everything I had learned over the course of three years was truly about giving love joyfully from a place of being love. Wholeness was the name of that game.

    I was no longer concerned with trying to find the perfect man, fix relationship problems, or change anyone else.

    Although I’m not perfect and never will be, I’ve had increasing moments of awareness and clarity when I was able to keep the focus completely on my self. Not focused on my “needs” and how I can get those met by others, but what I could do to become more whole and full of love so that I’m more focused on giving than taking.

    Interestingly, my original intention in studying relationships was only to improve my own chances of having a good, lasting relationship with a man. It was my hope that I would learn some tricks to get a good man interested and then to get him remain attracted enough to me to shower me with gifts, affection, attention, and praise.

    What I have learned and continue to learn is infinitely better.

    What I’ve learned is how to use the resources that lie within me, that lie within each of us, to be the kind of partner that naturally has a close, loving, happy, healthy relationship with her mate without always “working on it.”

    As most of us can attest, this kind of struggle never works long term. I learned to grow through my experiences in my relationships, become more loving and more whole, and give from a place of joy, which effortlessly creates a close, loving, happy, healthy relationship.

    This journey to “love enlightenment” has been amazing so far, with many ups and downs, as I’m sure it will continue to be.

    The wisdom I have gained has been invaluable for creating positive change not only within myself and in my relationships, but in my entire life. I have learned to be a better partner for my partner, for myself, for everyone I know and meet, and for the world at large.

    The goal is not to reach some destination, but to understand more about what it means to be whole. Perfection isn’t possible, but perhaps your intention could be to become more aware of what you are giving and being, and let it be love more and more of the time.

    In short, through your relationships with others grow more into the truth of who you are at the core of your being: you are love.