Last October

I have a hippie friend.

I love my hippie friend. She is strong, brave, wise and generally sorts things out for me that confuse the eff out of me.

Well, lately I’ve been trying to sort through some stuff & I didn’t know how to understand it, so I went to the hippie and the unlikeliest of sources.

I’ve had a bit of a falling out with some close friends over the last year, three to be exact. While one of them & I are reconnecting a bit on social media, her & I not being as close as we were has been kind of a sore spot with me, because I missed her. While outwardly, I acted like it didn’t bother me, my counselling sessions and chats with the hippie often mentioned my longing for my friendship with her, the support, the brutal honesty, the mutual love of cats and her adorable son. I wanted to apologize for sort of passing the buck about a few things, not adequately explaining what was bothering me, etc. but didn’t know how. The absence of regular conversations with this friend affected me. I was in a funk, my grades slipped, my heart was heavy. Combined with the end of a relationship with a person that meant so much to me, it was hard to pull myself out of the doldrums and I became Debbie Downer, which for anyone who knows me knows that is not me.

However, I later learned two of my best friends had lied to me about a lot of things because hurting me was mean or some such garbage and we’ve kind of distanced ourselves, to the point where the friendship seems to have ended. However, there was no despondency. There was a lot of focus on self-improvement, a lot of realization that I spent a lot of time saying “Well, they think…” and I realized how few major life decisions I have made on my own since the divorce. However, I didn’t feel that gutting agony of them not being there. I just kept on working. I got a job…and another one. My grades went up. I focused on losing weight. I felt more confident in my choices. I’m not saying that they are bad people, in fact, they’re amazing people! But right now it seems that they don’t fit in my current life plan and strangely enough, I’m okay with that. There is no tears or begging or that feeling of desolation and hurt. It’s just “Oh, well that’s cool. Hope they’re doing well.”

I asked the Hippie why and she said “some friends do not impact your person they are more peripheral? You enjoy them but they do not enrich your world and your life. Some people make a contribution to your world and they may not even be friends, but you are profoundly hurt by the loss of them in your life.”

While the friends made a positive impact in my life, things slowly changed and now the trust just isn’t there anymore. Meanwhile, the friend who I got annoyed with for being well meaning and even brutally honest & the man were the ones who enriched my life in deeper ways. It was the friend that I missed more than anything, even when I was annoyed. It was her birthday message that made me smile on the worst day ever. It was her random comments here and there that I would reply to. My children still long for that long lost person, that person whose departure from my life broke my heart in ways that I didn’t know could be done. The one I waited for months for, because I didn’t want a future without him, his child & his goodness. Because these people are a “person of value,” not just a friend.

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I asked my ex-husband (because after all, the person who’s known me for almost half of my life should know something about me and despite the acrimonious split, for some reason, I still ask him stuff and vice versa. I guess it’s because deep down we know we still know the other one well) why the loss of some people just doesn’t seem to bother me and throughout my life, there have only been three people whose departures have affected me long term and he suggested that maybe they belonged in my life. I missed my friend, that’s why her picture is still on my wall. I didn’t bat an eyelash walking out on a long term union, but “nothing broke you like the loss of that man. I wish I could do something to help, especially for the girls’ sake, because you were all happy then.” “Person of Value” was actually a term that he used to use. While yes, we had friends in Windsor, none were valuable, I wasn’t valuable. His family was valuable, the people he’s met online are valuable because they enrich him in some way. I’m glad he’s found “Persons of value.”

I don't love easily, or very well. But when I do, it's a choice that I make, knowing that it's irreversable, unchanging and there is a good chance that I will become roadkill and end up without them. But I do it, and continue to do it because it is a choice, a choice to love when you are unloved, a choice to give when there is nothing left to give, to love them when they're long gone & to always love them, because that is the nature of what love truly is. Wanting more for the other person than yourself.
I don’t love easily, or very well. But when I do, it’s a choice that I make, knowing that it’s irreversable, unchanging and there is a good chance that I will become roadkill and end up alone. But I do it, and continue to do it because it is a choice, a choice to love when you are unloved, a choice to give when there is nothing left to give, to love when you get nothing back, to love when they are long gone & to always love them, because that is the nature of what love truly is. Wanting more for the other person than yourself. I love only a handful of people like this, & I know I couldn’t stop if I wanted to, because when I made the choice, I knew I couldn’t reverse it. It was agape, always love.

I have a long time best friend who was a “Person of Value” to me. We had a falling out over a misunderstanding and we would only sporadically talk for 10 years. Finally, she messaged me on Facebook and we are talking again and it’s great. I feel so much happier with her presence in my life again. The years she wasn’t around, I missed her friendship, her bluntness and her constant “What do YOU think? You have to live with the choice,” which challenged me. My other high school best friend is another “Person of Value.” We’ve always kept in touch, but she is definitely one of my closest friends and role models and I love her for being in my life.

So, while I may not have all of the “Persons of Value” in my life again, it’s nice to know that I’m not weird for only truly wanting certain people in my life and not really mourning the rest. Maybe someday, the other friends will be a part of my life again, when fate dictates that we need each other. Until then, I wish them nothing but happiness and good health, because that’s what they deserve.

Incomplete

I discovered this amazeballs quote thanks to WWE Divas Champion (& loveable lunatic) AJ Lee & it just resonated with me. I hope it resonates with you too. It kind of reminds me why I’m always trying to work things out with people, even if I’m not particularly happy with them or whatever. Because this is true.

“There is no such thing as a “broken family.” Family is family, and is not determined by marriage certificates, divorce papers, and adoption documents. Families are made in the heart. The only time family becomes null is when those ties in the heart are cut. If you cut those ties, those people are not your family. If you make those ties, those people are your family. And if you hate those ties, those people will still be your family because whatever you hate will always be with you.”

I also ganked this from Facebook & felt the messages work hand & hand…or I’m also a loveable lunatic. Whatever. Either way, they’re both cool thoughts & I wanted to share them. Enjoy!

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Butterfly Kisses

In honour of Father’s Day, I’ve decided to write about my relationship with my own father figures.

My father passed away when I was five years old, so I was that kid who sat out of craft time while the other kids got to make their paper neckties. It was pretty demoralizing and likely didn’t help with that fear of isolation, but I’m not here to psychoanalyze myself.

I’ve often wondered if my dad would be proud of the person I’ve become, or if he would think I was some kind of raging screw-up. I haven’t really been the best kid all of the time. I’ve lipped off to my mom, I’ve been a pain in the ass and I’ll likely never have a husband, namely because I don’t particularly see it as important and I don’t know if I want to date anyone ever again (my track record of cancelling the last 15 dates in a row is pretty telling), nor would my children accept anyone else besides the mate they want for me. My first marriage was a comedy of errors and my academic performance in any class that wasn’t english, the arts, sociology or media was pretty piss poor. I mean, yeah, I got the diplomas, but could I have been better? Am I the person that my father would be proud of? It’s something that weighs on me every single Father’s day.

Then there is my foster father, whom I call my dad. He is a great man, who encouraged me to be myself. He told me that I was a charismatic, dynamic young lady and people would be jealous of the person that I was, because all eyes go on me when I enter a room because I’m bright, witty, and charming. He taught me to be myself, trust my own instincts and believe that I was capable of anything. Somewhere I lost those lessons along the way and I guess I need to reclaim those lessons, because my dad is a smart man and he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t believe it. He’s the most important male influence I’ve ever had and I hope he’s proud of me too. Sometimes I wonder, for all of the reasons listed above. Maybe I don’t live up to my full potential. Maybe I don’t surround myself with the right people. Maybe I screw up the positive relationships in my life to spend time with people who hold me back from being my best self. I don’t know, but I know that I hope he’s proud of me.

So, these are the things I think about every single father’s day. I hope all of the dads out there are having a great day. To the stepdads who pick up the slack for the deadbeats and the dads that take their job seriously, I commend you. To the single moms going it alone, be proud of yourselves. To the grandpas and uncles and male role models who step up when no one else is there and come out to family outings, etc. I hope you know how important you are.

Before Tomorrow Comes

As Hannibal from the A-Team said, “I love it when a plan comes together.”

I love when I take a look at my life and things are going almost EXACTLY the way I want them to. I’ve been out of school for a little over a month and I’m already starting a job next week. It’s not in either field, but it’ll pay bills, which is great. However, tomorrow I have interviews for two more positions, both more financially lucrative. Again, not in my fields of study, but still rewarding. I also have a meeting to close up another chapter in my life that has been plaguing me for some time. That’s behind me too. My weight loss and fitness goals are being met, and I’m healthier. All of these things are good things and remind me of how easily I can make things happen when I put my mind to them.

I’ve even had a couple of really positive chats with “the dad.” While we’ll never be friends, we understand each other a bit better now. He’s on medication and I’ve long accepted that my inability to provide genuine romantic love for him contributed to the end of the union. It doesn’t excuse his actions, but I don’t think I helped boost his self esteem either. However, he did remind me to make sure that I make my own choices, because “Your friends; they control you. Don’t let them do it anymore.” (I’m not sure if I 100% believe that, but I have had a few people tell me this lately) He also gave some advice about love, believe it or not, because when I was happy, he wasn’t terribly thrilled, but now he realizes things are better if I’m happy & wishes that the kids could get their way because they were happier then too (which is weird, when your ex-husband says you were better off with someone else. He’s not wrong, but it’s huge growth for a guy who once told me his only joy would be when I was miserable). Will we ever have our pre-marriage friendship back? Unlikely. But we can co-parent without killing each other…right now. We’ll see how long this truce lasts, because we’ve both wrecked those truces before. I have to give him a lot of credit for this current truce, he’s been doing more for the kids and trying to get along with me, which has been good for the girls.

My hippie friend and my amazeballs Texan tell me that I need to recapture my “MH-ness” which is that I take no crap from anyone. I’m dominant and life is my bitch. So, that’s how I will carry myself, because that’s who I am and I’m proud of who I am. So, much like Hannibal, I love when a plan comes together. Things are all working in a direction so that my life will be almost exactly the way I want it. It will never be 100% the way I want it, but almost is better than not @ all, and I’ll take almost right now.

My friend the Texan told me that the hair Gods are in my favour, so that is coming together too. My friend the Texan told me that the hair Gods are in my favour, so that is coming together too.

Can’t Be Tamed

I was backing up my external hard drive last night and I got looking at a great many things, including old letters that I wrote last January and various old photos.

I was showing them to my mom who said “You look more like you did in your early 20’s than you did in your early 20’s.” I had never noticed, but I guess that’s true. Between the weight loss and the fact that I am no longer under constant stress from late night arguments, money woes, etc. that maybe I do look younger.

Here is a photo essay of the style evolution of MHC!

18 year old me. Wasn't I cute?
18 year old me. Wasn’t I cute?
MH with pink hair and piercings...and fat. I'm 70lbs lighter now.
MH with pink hair and piercings…and fat. I’m 70lbs lighter now.
Taken a couple of days ago. I normally wear my glassed, but since I'm not in the other photos, I'll use this.
Taken a couple of days ago. I normally wear my glasses, but since I’m not in the other photos, I’ll use this.

I’ve focused more on my physical appearance again, focusing on eating the right foods, drinking more water, taking care of my skin and yes, I do look better. Younger? I don’t know, but if so, maybe I’m Benjamin Button (I have had younger friends be mistaken for my mother…more than once). However, I’ve always taken pride in my appearance, even though it sometimes seems like some kind of sin to do so. Women who wear makeup are vain and vapid and incapable of being bright and witty. However, I think liking how you look on the outside will help you like yourself on the inside. You need to like your reflection and during the second picture, I didn’t, even with the pink hair and piercings (which I look back on as some sort of weird phase, trying to make up for how much I didn’t like myself by trying to make myself look better by being edgy and such). So, the better I felt about myself, the more pride I took in my appearance. Last year, I looked put together all of the time. My friends knew I wasn’t myself in the fall and winter because I wasn’t wearing makeup to classes and I just tossed my hair in a ponytail. I wasn’t taking pride in my appearance, which meant I likely didn’t like who I was inside. Now that I’ve taken control of my life, stopped letting my friends dictate how I handle situations (which caused a lot of crap in the fall and I made a mess of a lot of things, but I wanted to fix some situations and I didn’t trust my own judgment. But I learned a lesson in trusting my gut and not letting people convince me to do things their way) and stand firm in my own choices and truly feel independent, you can see the results. I look better. I’ve lost weight. I like who I see in the mirror, which transcends into me returning to my super dominant self.

There’s no shame in wanting to look good, because looking good helps you feel good. It might be that pick me up that you need to help motivate you to reach the next goal. It’s not just vanity; it’s taking pride in who you are and presenting your best self.

I Need Your Love

Giuliana Rancic outraged mothers this week when she made the controversial statement that she puts her marriage ahead of her nine month old son Duke.

She stated that she feels her husband Bill may be a better father than her and that kids do better in homes with happy parents, so she makes her marriage her first priority.

Photo Courtesy of: celebritypregnancy.sheknows.com
Photo Courtesy of: celebritypregnancy.sheknows.com

A lot of women stated that Rancic, who was famously open about her struggles to conceive (Duke was delivered by gestational surrogate), should be more grateful for her son, and that she should be the world’s most doting mom and shouldn’t have any struggles to bond, etc. This reminded me of when my best friend got pregnant with her son after years of struggles to conceive. While sitting with me and another friend, she said she couldn’t wait for her son to be born because she hated being pregnant. Once she left, the other friend said how my best friend was “sick” for not revelling in the pregnancy that she had longed for and if it were HER having the baby, she would relish every second that she was carrying her little one.

This begs the question; are parenting struggles reserved for women who can conceive easily? I can freely admit that I hated every single second that I was pregnant. From the moment I peed on that stick from the moment that each of my daughters were born, I loathed being pregnant. I was tired, sore, I barfed a lot and often ended up on bedrest. It wasn’t fun. My best friend struggled to gain weight, had horrible morning sickness and food aversions. She was pregnant throughout a hot summer in a house with no air conditioning. It wasn’t terribly fun.

Rancic’s admission that she currently feels that her husband has bonded to their son more is honest. She mentioned that as Duke grows, it may be different. However, we need to stop putting pressure on women who struggle to become mothers and try to make them perfect mothers. We’re all human. Moms who have a child via IVF are just as prone to PPD. Moms who have a child via surrogate may suffer from the same anxiety that people who adopt have; the idea that it’s harder to bond because they didn’t have the “joy” of carrying him or her. Rancic’s point that children fare better in homes where parents have a happy marriage is true. Could she have worded it better? Absolutely. But, the Rancics are committed to keeping their relationship together for each other and for Duke and that should be commended.

However a child comes into the world, parenting a child full time is still a hard job. It’s not always easy and it’s not always exactly as you imagined and sometimes your co-parent might handle a certain age or stage better than you. There’s no shame in being honest about these things. Just because it was harder to create the child, doesn’t mean you are obligated to somehow parent flawlessly, with no qualms, concerns, or anxiety. That’s just silly.

Where We Land

Let me tell you about my friend the Texan.

I met her online on a Mommy message board and from the moment we started talking, I knew she was one of the most amazing people in the world. When I mentioned that my middle child was colicky and didn’t want to be put down, I was surprised with a Peanut Shell sling in the mail, for no other reason than I had a need and she wanted to fill it. I was blown away by her generosity. She showed me through this and our many conversations that she was the living embodiment of the true Christian; someone who loved her neighbour as herself and wanted to be a shining example of God’s love.

When my eldest daughter began her struggles, the Texan was the only person I spoke to. It was nothing against my other friends, but it’s hard to explain these issues when you’ve never lived through them. I’ve been a mom for almost 12 years and I still would never have been able to relate to a parent in this situation until I’ve been here myself. However, the Texan offered me constructive advice and is quick to check in with me on counselling days, which are particularly draining for my child and I. While I enjoy these days, as it helps me come up with an action plan to better meet my children’s needs, it’s still difficult to hear her sob for someone and something that she sees as so easy and she doesn’t understand why I won’t just reach out and make it happen. She likens what she wants to her favourite book romance (Stefan and Elena from the Vampire Diaries; I won’t let her watch the show. Too many hearts being ripped out), and that no matter how long the separations, the love doesn’t die and if I would just make a phone call, that person will show up @ the door & it can be worked out and she’ll get her real family. Of course, real life doesn’t work that way & her dream scenario of him coming back to be with us out of the blue is more of a fairy tale. Of course, that doesn’t stop her from believing every knock @ the door, every time the phone rings, this time it’s him. This time, he’ll be standing there saying he’ll be with us. But the Texan is the one who helps me understand that the guilt I feel is normal, that it’ll be okay and that my efforts to make things better (the counselling, the yoga, the journalling, extracurricular activities, etc.) are all effective strategies to improve things, help with the resentment she feels that I won’t make that phone call that she’s begged me to make for months, because I’m afraid & why don’t grown ups act brave for once, admit they’re wrong, that they love each other & be a family. That way she and her sisters don’t need to be sad anymore. The Texan doesn’t question my choice to fall on my sword as it were, letting her think it’s my refusal to reach out that keeps her from having the person she feels is the best person ever so she won’t feel rejected, because he promised her when he brought her a birthday gift that he’d never leave her ever again. The Texan understands it’s to protect my child…& preserve the memory of the person who was once the most important adult in the world to me (& my natural instinct to shoulder the blame for everything & believing that the people I care about are good. Protect and defend the ones I love, even @ the expense of myself. That’s the MH way). The Texan often mentions continued prayer to help me get through the rough parts by reminding me that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle, and I’m so grateful for her guidance. She’s like the coolest older sister figure ever. She’s the one who suggested I blog about these struggles, so I wouldn’t feel so alone; that other parents feel this way sometimes too.

While sitting in church on Sunday, the Reverend mentioned a verse that hit home for me and really helped me gain perspective on a lot of things.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

Whether you believe in a higher power or you don’t, one must remember that the world will not give us more than we can handle. While this may not always have been true, one thing I’ve tried to remind myself is that clearly God has a lot of faith in me as a person. After all, if God won’t give us more than we can handle, then clearly he trusts me to thrive in situations that most people would look at and want no part of. This is the lesson that my amazing friend reminds me of when I lose my way. So, I look at some of the things that I struggle with, from parenting to employment to friendships and some days, even my own sanity as opportunities to grow, to be challenged. Instead of begging God for help, I’m going to thank him for trusting me to tackle these things and rise to the occasion. So, thank you my friend, for being a wise older sister, fortune teller and all around amazing person during times of triumph and tribulations. Thanks for reminding me to welcome these things and be thankful for struggles, for they shape us and make us strong, make us hopeful. We should welcome the darkness because when it’s over, we’ll be more grateful for the gifts we are given. After all, darkness helps us build character. These trying times have helped me discover who I am standing on my own feet, not with anyone to “protect” me and I’m holding up okay. These times have helped shape my parenting style, helping me learn to keep a cool head, which has helped me during challenging times such as exams. There was no panic, simply rising to the occasion and my grades reflected my efforts. Darkness will help me appreciate things as they come, and I will see them as gifts and cherish them, and not wait for the shoe to drop. So, I’m thankful and grateful that the universe trusts me to hold up the world like Atlas, for it will make me a better person in the end.

I may not be the perfect mother or the perfect friend. I may not be a superhuman machine. But I am a mom, a friend, a journalist and a law clerk and a good person and that’s all I need to be, and I have an amazing role model to show me how to embrace those things.

You’re amazing Texan, and I love you.

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Underdog

All mornings start out awesome with early morning phone calls from the Gleason Table.

My longtime friend and fellow blogger (it’s fantastic, check it out here) always have the best conversations about a wide variety of topics. They’re pretty much the most hilarious part of my day. Today’s topic of conversation: Facebook.

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I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. I waste a lot of time on Facebook. I post a zillion photos of my daughters, etc. on Facebook. But I’ve noticed that we place too much emphasis on Facebook in our day to day lives. We use Facebook to send out feelers of former friendships as opposed to calling, we use Facebook to creep our exes because we can’t admit we still have romantic feelings for them, which holds back the healing process. We block people so that they feel rejected and, as Gleason said this morning, the more miserable you are about your life, the happier you will appear on Facebook. I know I’ve done it, during my darkest times emotionally, I’ll be as happy as a clam on Facebook. After all, if we appear happy happy on Facebook, we think we’re fooling people…and I guess to an extent, we are.

facebook

There are more than a few articles that claim that people see other people’s picture perfect Facebook lives and will feel depressed. Apparently, we start comparing our lives to the people on Facebook and feel inadequate. Knowing that we all embellish our lives on Facebook, why wouldn’t we assume that someone else is doing the same? Why do we put so much stock in Facebook? Why do we assume that everything on Facebook means something?

It's going great Facebook, thanks for asking.
It’s going great Facebook, thanks for asking.

Facebook was designed to keep us in touch with each other, but we use it as a legal form of stalking and an essential pissing contest to see who can pretend to have the best life while keeping tabs on people we claim we don’t care about and trying to pretend to all of our coworkers, etc. that our lives are super awesome when in reality, they are average, just like yours and mine. So, let’s stop comparing our lives to each other on Facebook and using it to act like we’re soooooo happy. Let’s stop creeping the people we left behind, whether it’s a friend we comment on every few months or that ex we can’t get out of our head and actually call or text them and begin working on those relationships.

Oh…and stop sharing memes that say if you share it, the dying kid will get a $1 for hospital bills. That’s just stupid too.

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PS Because I’m a dork…follow us on Facebook!

Your Heart is a Muscle

So…apparently I was the only person who watched that train wreck “Ready for Love” as it’s already been cancelled.

Naturally, my mind went to “Oh. Em. Gee. Now how will I know if the annoying matchmakers help the meterosexual douchebags find the person they love for 20 minutes soulmate?!”

Okay, it was more like “If all it took for dating show to be cancelled was for me to watch it, then I’m coming for the Bachelor!”

I have a point, I promise.

I guess people are sick of the phoniness that these shows exhibit. There’s nothing authentic about them, except for maybe the two girls who flew across country to win back the loves of their lives, which was pretty ballsy. Those interactions were genuine, with real conflict and real emotions and the question of whether the decision to leave was the right or wrong thing, and it would have been interesting to see how the one panned out.

It reminded me of something my dad said to me about how people sometimes prefer to be right over being happy. We would rather live in a mess we created than ever admit that it wasn’t the right thing. Sometimes, there is no “right” but more a gray area and wrong. Maybe you’re not sure what the right thing is, but you know your actions are “wrong.” It doesn’t feel right and you’ve messed up but you also can’t swallow that pride or leverage that you have to just admit it to anyone, let alone yourself. Sometimes people say that if it didn’t work the first time, or the second, then why will it work the third? Sometimes people don’t try; they merely escape. Maybe you saw a long term future and it scared you because your last attempt at one of those failed. Maybe you weren’t ready for something, but now that you are, you realize you effed up and you apply to appear on a trainwreck with a bunch of crazy blonde chicks. That’s when you see the failed relationships, the ex creeping (which I’ve already mentioned being creepy HERE) and the general dissatisfaction with your life. But the desire to be “right” and not risk giving your love the power of holding your actions over you outweighs it all and you end up going round in circles…or on a reality show with Bill and Giuliana Rancic.

My foster father always reminded me that being right will never make you happy; being happy does. So, I’m the first one to back down (unless of course I am absolutely certain that I am right, or it is the right thing, or the only solution. Then I’m a freaking pitbull and won’t back down and won’t give up and will endure ridiculous amounts of hurt because I think it’s worth it) because truthfully, the relationship with the friend, partner, etc. brings happiness, which means more than being right. Sometimes, you need to admit you’re dumb, immature, you screwed up, eat that crow because it’s not about being “right” because it’s what’s deterring you from being truly happy. My foster dad always told me that sometimes in life it’s not about winning a battle, it’s about knowing when you need to surrender, something that I remind myself when I pick my battles with my daughters (there isa reason that my 6yo doesn’t own a matching pair of socks), admitting I was wrong in a friendship, or taking a zero on an assignment because I didn’t get it finished. Sometimes, it’s not about who was right, it’s about how everyone was wrong and how to make it right.

So, I guess the burning question now is what I’ll watch after I watch my pretend husband Adam Levine on the Voice. Perhaps there is some kind of Adam Levine network? I should call my provider and find out.

You Know Where I’m At

Last night, I couldn’t find my remote, so I couldn’t change the channel after watching my pretend husband Adam Levine on The Voice.

Yes, this shirtless photo of Adam Levine is essential to this blog post...you're welcome
Yes, this shirtless photo of Adam Levine is essential to this blog post…you’re welcome

I was studying for a final so I figured I’d leave whatever the eff was on as background noise. It turned out that it was this dating show called Ready For Love. We all know my feelings on dating shows (if not, click HERE & HERE), yet this was like some kind of weird train wreck. I wanted to get up & change the channel, but I didn’t want to look for my remote because I was morbidly fascinated by this bizarre…thing.

Anywho, the plot is these three guys let matchmakers pick out a bunch of chicks for them & the matchmakers sort of guide dude to find the one…or something (I did learn that the Plain White T’s are still a thing, so there’s that). But one of the girls who was sent packing said that “nice girls finish last.”

Do they?

I’m a nice girl. Sickeningly so. I’m all kinds of Jesus loving, gift buying, naive as all get out, good girl. I give to people until there is nothing left & when I love someone, I’m stupidly devoted to them. I don’t do casual sex. I need to know you love me before you get that (I broke that rule one time, for someone I loved beyond reason) & if you’re in my bed, it means I truly believe you are my match. In fact, I struggle to date again if I’ve given you that, because I feel like I gave you the best I had in me to give & it wasn’t good enough. I would rather waste my life waiting for a person I feel is worth waiting for than date a million people (my online dating profile exists, but it serves for me to reject many boys & only to shut the psych major up hahaha) But do I finish last? I don’t think so. I have a pretty fulfilled life; awesome kids, good friends, an outlet for my talent. Not too shabby. I don’t need a relationship to complete me. I don’t get lonely for a partner. If I do, it’s for a specific person, not just a faceless partner, someone who has qualities I admire, who I feel can be a role model for my daughters, someone I care about.

I think people sort of use that as a crutch to explain why guys are douchebags. Some are, but other men & women just cannot handle having what they’ve wanted; someone who loves them completely. You build the image up in your mind of your ideal mate & most of the time, the image doesn’t fit reality. 90% of the time, the person who is right for us isn’t the person we expected. Some people can roll with that, others can’t. They begin to let doubts creep in because they’re not used to someone essentially looking at them like they’re amazing & they worry about things like “what if I’m not so God-like (chances are, they know)” or “why don’t I see him/her like that? (Chances are you give love differently, it doesn’t mean you love them less, you just love them in your own way)” Soon enough, you feel smothered and guilty because you simply can’t understand that level of acceptance, because you’ve never had it yourself (something I struggle with). Maybe the two of you aren’t on the same page (one is further ahead and you need to slow down) and you don’t know how to say you’re not ready to jump in yet, or vice versa. Maybe they aren’t the mate you envisioned on paper; they’re flighty, or even a little nuts & you question your choice (or you worry about others questioning it). The idea of love is wonderful, the act of maintaining love is terrifying. That’s why so many of us rush into one relationship after another; we’ve been trained to believe that the other person just sucked & it’s because we’re nice & we finish last.

The truth is, that we love the idea of love, not being in love, which is why we always muck up the best relationships & then rush into the next one instead of evaluating what we really want. Perhaps we should have worked harder, or talked to our partner as things happened, so we can apply that to our next relationship. Perhaps we still miss the one we let get away so we try to replace them & end up with a string of failed relationships trying to fill the hole (which my own therapist claims those who feel a hole either a) have terribly low self esteem and need to be in a relationship to feel validated or b) are missing the presence of a former lover that they feel “got away”), while still creeping their online profile because deep down, that’s what we want but we’re too damn stubborn to admit it (something one of the girls did on the train wreck last night. She realized she let someone great go & went to fight for him. The other train wreck chicks were pissed, but I thought it was pretty ballsy to admit you weren’t ready @ the time, but you’re sorry & you are now & you want to try again. He kept her, so maybe he is big into giving someone a million chances).

They say if you care enough to wonder what they're thinking, then maybe you should care enough to be with them. Of course, most proverbs were written by monks soooo...
They say if you care enough to wonder what they’re thinking, then maybe you should care enough to be with them. Of course, most proverbs were written by monks soooo…

It’s not because nice people finish last. It’s because we’ve been taught that people are replaceable & that makes us want everything & nothing; we want someone to complete us, but not get too close, someone to want to be our mate, but not overwhelm us, someone to understand us, even if we don’t tell them what’s wrong. It has to be our time, our way & we are the star of the relationship & it’s not about being a team. It’s not a matter of nice or douchey, because these are things that plague all of us. We need to start working together to meet in the middle. Sometimes we need to start over, sometimes we need to understand that the thing that seemed wrong on paper is the right thing for us, or that not everyone loves the same way & that’s okay, sometimes we need to go backwards before we go forward & sometimes we need to open up before we close the door.

So, nice people don’t finish last. They just struggle to navigate like the rest of the world. We’ll all figure it out…but most likely NOT on a dating show.