He's seen all of me

I had quite a significant weekend with Jay.

On Friday, he arrived in the late afternoon to join me for a bowling event, where he met my colleagues and trainees. It's the first time my romantic life has ever intersected with work.  Afterwards, students came up to me and expressed their surprise at my personal life, because they didn't know I had a partner! Later, we went to a buffet with my friend Gina and stuffed ourselves until we could eat no more! We rounded out the night with some grocery shopping in preparation for Saturday's party, and then headed home to go to bed!  We were pooped!

On Saturday morning-- I snuck out of bed early and began making peanut butter doggy cookies for Mr. Z. Today was the big day! Mr. Z. was having his 5-year-birthday-party and I had invited 10 of my friends along with 5 of their dogs!  When Jay stumbled into the kitchen sleepily, I roped him into helping me! For the next 4 hours, we rolled out homemade dough int 120+ cookies shaped like gingerbread dolls, stars, clovers, and hearts. Afterwards, I got started on making Mr. Z.'s cake while Jay channel surfed until he found a twilight marathon. Yes, that was exactly how we spent the rest of the weekend-- we watched the twilight marathon session!

At some point, I made us leave the house in a hurry to pick up last-minute groceries before the party. I asked Jay if he wanted to join me in the shower but was rejected. Why? I don't know! It wasn't meant to be a sexual request. I just thought it'd be fun, intimate, and cozy. But he rejected me in the nicest way possible, saying it would mean we would never leave the house, which simply was untrue. I was super disappointed but tried to recover my pride and ego in the shower -- alone. Then we went shopping, buying last-minute but crucial things, like a BBQ grill (haha)! We returned home in time for Jay to piece it all together while I put the finishing touches on the cake. Then he seasoned the meat while I wrapped up goody bags for all the human and doggy guests.

As guests arrived, I got to say hi and entertain while Jay ran in and out of the house, grilling, cutting, making pico de gallo, and basically making all of the food. He was an amazing host who maintained his role behind the scenes even though he basically did it all. I mean, what's my measly hummus compared to his fajitas, hot dogs, and pico de gallo? As he worked hard, I played with babies, greeted my friends and their pets, and did whatever Jay needed when he asked for my assistance.

At one point, 2 of my girlfriends asked me how serious I considered our relationship to be. On a scale of 1-10, what would I rate our relationship?  With some probing, I concluded it was an 8.  Not a 9 because that would seem too serious for a less-than-6-month-relationship; and definitely not a 7 because we've already met each others' parents, for goodness sake! Melanie asked if I think he's THE ONE because she was able to tell in month 3 of dating, that her husband was meant to be. She just knew. "It felt different than the rest" she said. "It just fit" was how she summed it up.

I'd say all of her comments are true in my case.  Jay is special, he feels different from the rest, and we fit just right as well.  

In fact, while we were making cookies that morning, he mentioned something about Cinco de Mayo. I asked him what was happening that day, and he said that a good friend of his generally throws an awesome party each year to celebrate the holiday. Without waiting for him to ask me, I took a risk and disclosed that this day has made me nauseous for the last 4 years because that is the anniversary date of when I caught B. cheating on me.  In response, Jay goes: "Well, I guess this means I have to make this year's cinco de mayo extra special for you, right? If that's the message I'm getting, then guess what? Challenge accepted! I will make this day so awesome that you never have to feel nauseous about it again." I had to hold my breath because I was so moved by what he said. He literally took my breath away.

On Sunday, Jay and I slept almost until noon and then he cooked us brunch using the leftovers from the BBQ the night before. We finished watching the rest of the twilight marathon and laid on the couch the entire day. At some point, we talked about martial arts and I made him teach me how to throw people down! We wrestled for a good while and I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt. When he finally had to go, I felt this giant hole fill my heart. The void remained all night and the morning after until I finally left home to immerse myself into my work life 16 hours later.

Yes, that was the only was I was able to cope.

Is this normal? Do others have difficulty letting go of their partners when the weekend ends? As Jay was packing up last night, I told him that every time we say goodbye to each other, it feels like reality slapping me in the face because it's the end of vacation time. He agreed but said he had tons of work to do, which I completely understand. In fact, I offered to also drive down to visit him next weekend. I had a moment of panic, actually-- panic that he would say: "I'm too busy next weekend, so I won't be seeing you anymore."  Instead, he said he'll likely come for 2 days instead of 3-- and for some reason that still made me feel nervous, so I rambled on a bit about driving down to him and doing work together.

Sigh. Insecurity, I hate you, please leave me alone.

As Jay grabbed the last of his things and headed out the door, we kissed and I told him to let me know when he gets home. He promised he wouldn't forget and then got in his car and drove off. All my lightheartedness, excitement, fun-ness, and good mood also drove off with him, and I've been missing him ever since.


This weekend was pretty monumental for me. He has now seen every single aspect of me that there is to see: my friends, my work life, my style when it comes to throwing a party, my love for Mr. Z... and he's met my parents. What else is there? He's seen it all and I've got nothing left to hide. I'm officially at my most vulnerable now because he has the upper hand to decide if he wants out of this relationship.

He can now make an informed decision to leave me.

Meeting his parents

I had the best experience meeting Jay's parents.

I arrived late Friday night with the intention of leaving Saturday night so that his parents could stay with him. But after dinner together on Saturday night, they insisted that I stay overnight with Jay while they get a hotel room. They thought it was too late to drive the 2.5 hour trip and did not want to disrupt our weekend together. They called me "family" while we were together and emphasized safety.

Jay's parents also treated me like family throughout. Momma Jay offered me a small bottle of face cream that she has used her entire life. She also offered me an orange from their ranch, peanut cakes, and the most delicious chorizo from their hometown. Papa Jay paid for all of our meals together, and throughout the weekend, they loved Mr. Z., and we had the best conversations about pets, cooking, recipes, family experiences. We laughed a lot. They later told Jay to bring me home so that I could experience their hometown. I had been feeling homesick throughout this week and being with Jay's family was perfect! I adore being with both parents and also his his younger brother. It felt so... harmonious. Yes, that's the word.

We spent the better half of Sunday lounging. We parked ourselves in front of Jay's brother's TV, watching movies, eating ice cream, and chatting in-between. Every now and then his mom would disappear into his bedroom to take a nap. Meanwhile, Jay and I dozed on-and-off, waking up intermittently to eat snacks and play with the dog. The entire weekend was unexpectedly comfortable and so much fun. I couldn't have wished for a better experience! I even told Jay on Sunday night that I might adore his parents more than him.

P.S. In addition to all that family time together, Jay and I had a lot of sex this weekend. Morning, night, in bed, on the sofa, on the exercise ball...  it seriously doesn't get better than this and I am now going to have a difficult time returning back to reality.

Having shared values

I'm heading over to Jay's tonight and in the morning, his parents will be driving into-town. What will this weekend be like? I've been stressing out about the living arrangement ever since last week!

With his parents in-town:

• Should I still sleep over? 
• If so, how would we (all 4 of us) sleep in a 1-bedroom apartment?
• Can I bring Mr. Z again?

Jay had replied yes to my 1st question last weekend, but I've still been confused. Fortunately, I checked-in with him last night to ask about Mr. Z and to ask if I should sleep over on Saturday. His response:

"I think it might be best if we just did Friday night. At least for the first time you meet my parents. Is that OK?"

Um, yes. Absolutely, yes. I'd prefer it that way, actually. The last thing I want is to have his parents think of me as some loose girl who sleeps over easily with boys. How mortifying. Especially in my culture, their perception of me would also reflect on my family as well. That is simply unacceptable if they judge my family by association. Also, I can't imagine all 4 of us (plus Mr. Z) in a small apartment staring at each other throughout the weekend.

Still, I am a teeny disappointed that he doesn't want me to stay the entire weekend. I have mixed feelings of course, but I'm mostly relieved. Without being consumed by anxiety, I also have feelings of gratitude! It's so nice to have shared values with the person you're dating-- especially because this is a fundamental value, right? How to introduce your parents to your boyfriend/girlfriend?

A great day today

I have so many great news to share that I don't know where to begin.

For starters, I submitted my 241 whopping whale of a dissertation this week.  It is officially out-of-my-hands. Whoopee!!

I also had lunch with my adviser today and we talked about anything and everything.  Although I don't see him much, we occasionally have these meetings that just make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside.  I suppose that in the 6 years that I've been here, he should know me.  Nevertheless, I'm always surprised when he says things to me that capture exactly how I feel, or exactly what's happening in my life.

Over lunch at this gorgeous Thai restaurant in town-- our annual Spring lunches, mind you, we talked about my dissertation, my plans this summer for internship, my attempts to be physically active and healthy, and we also talked about what's happening on the relationship front.  My adviser actually met B. that day when he randomly showed up in front of my office.  Before that, I had told him a bit about our relationship, so he knew the backdrop.  As we ate, he asked what happened after running into him, and if I'm officially done with that relationship these days.  As we talked, he shared that prior to meeting his wife, he has also had similar experiences like me, and he has known others who "take care of others before taking care of yourself."

I was so surprised that he hit the nail on the head.  How does he know me so well?

He knew exactly what my problem was/is, and not only did he understand it, but he was not judgmental whatsoever.  He was validating and he normalized my experience by sharing his own very personal experiences in relationships.  He said that many of us in the helping professionals struggle with finding reciprocal relationships because we simply have so much love to give (and we can sometimes give it to the wrong people in our personal lives). He told me stories about his own love life, and he talked about the challenges that he has struggled with as well. I have never felt as close to him as I did today.  And I felt so honored that he was willing to share it with me.

You now what else? I also grew from this experience just seeing him talk. When he spoke and shared his experiences, he did not talk with shame. He talked about experiences similar to mine, when an ex-partner under-appreciates you and treats you like shit, but you still want them at the expense of your own well-being.  What was also strange was that when I heard him talk, I didn't judge him either.  I didn't judge him in the way I would judge myself if it were my story.  Instead, when I listened to him, I saw only his strengths. I felt empathy but it wasn't pity or shame.  It was a kind of respect, validation, and understanding. Knowing his struggles made him even more human to me.

So since then, I've been wondering... why can't I see myself in that way as well? Why can't I view me as being "more human" than I thought? Why do I judge myself so harshly?

Tonight, I baked homemade organic cookies for Mr. Z with a recipe that I adapted from here.

I didn't follow the exact ratios, but I did come up with some awesome cookies in all sorts of shapes: xmas trees, gingerbread men, stars, hearts, a weird cross, a flowery circle... and Mr. Z devoured those cookies too, which has made me even happier because I was worried he wouldn't like them.

I'm actually flying on cloud 9 because of my conversation with my adviser today, my successful attempt at making homemade treats for Mr. Z tonight, and because my entire apartment currently smells like peanut butter and honey right now... which is absolutely wonderful.

Running away

Hi, I'm back.

I know, bad blogger, bad blogger.

Last week, with all that happened, I ran away from journaling, writing, reflecting, or even being mindful.  I couldn't stand to have a pity-party. And I really did not want to feel angry, either. So I decided to stop thinking altogether.

Instead, I threw myself into surviving the week and pretending B. never re-appeared back into my life.  I busied myself with planning Mr. Z's birthday party (yes, I did throw him a bday party), which required cleaning my house, baking a doggy-cake from scratch, buying actual cakes for the humans who are coming, and getting all sorts of party supplies for the big day.

Celebrating Mr. Z's bday got me through the week.  As Penny would day, "Look, he's saving you from B. again."

As absurd as it sounds to throw a birthday party for your dog, I did it!  I judged myself quite harshly throughout the process, and also ridiculed myself in the privacy of my own thoughts.  Here I am, someone who used to fear dogs and to mock those who carted their puppies everywhere.  And now, I am on the other side of the fence, doing exactly what I would have laughed at, merely a year ago.

Wait, who am I again?

But then I remind myself that this is how I love.  Throwing a party for Mr. Z. is not that different from when I threw B. a surprise birthday party 2 years ago.  Being in the foul mood that he was in, and considering he has 0 friends, I invited a group of my pals over for dinner.  He wanted to cook, so I assisted while he showed-off his skills.  I asked Penny to bring over an expensive ice cream cake and I prepared candles so we can surprise him after dinner.  The entire event went off without a hitch, and he was so pleasantly surprised.  It was quite wonderful to make someone happy and it made me feel like I was soaring on cloud now!  Until.... everyone left.  When the party ended, he wanted to alcohol, stat.  That's what happens when he got happy.  ALCOHOL! And when he got sad? ALCOHOL!  And of course, without a car, he wanted me to drive him to pick up liquor. 

Now, for me, there are few things I hate doing.  But liquor runs?

I DETEST liquor runs. 

I feel cheap going on liquor runs and I personally don't like the effect of excessive alcohol in people.  The entire night went from wonderful to bitter.  I ended up driving him to pick up alcohol and dropping him off at home.  I came back alone to my apartment and did all the cleaning up that you do after a party.  We had already yelled and screamed and there was just exhaustion and more exhaustion.  Ah, memories of that party.  How bitter that was, and not at all sweet.

This year, I was so happy to throw a party for Mr. Z. and to clean up for him afterwards.  We sang a birthday song (at my request), we ate cake, we cut his cake, we opened presents, and we laughed at me and this event that I made everyone come for. 

It was absolutely strange and fun!  And when it ended, it was still wonderful and that was a healing experience for me.  It was so reparative to know that I can love and give again, and not be damaged in return.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Mr. Z!

Thank you for coming into my life!

This is just the 1st of many more celebrations to come! :)

An ode to Mr. Z

I am grateful to Mr. Z for so many reasons. A few months ago, my friend Penny remarked that Mr. Z was the only one that actually saved me from my relationship with B.  No amount of help/advice from friends was enough to give me the final push to end it all.  Ultimately, it was Mr. Z that helped me get out of what was killing my soul, and making me feel like I had no will to move forward.  Mr. Z was the final reason that helped me to have the courage to finally break up.

What Penny may not know, however, is that ever since the breakup, Mr. Z continues to do so much for me. To begin, I've realized that I'm healthier because of him.  Emotionally, spiritually, physically... I'm healthier thanks to Mr. Z.

At the emotional level, I feel such unconditional love, loyalty, and support from him. He is so excited to see me all the time, and his kisses are so true, so authentic, and so in-the-moment. Mr. Z wants nothing more from me than just me.  He has no expectations for me, no judgment toward me, and no conditions linked to my self-worth.  He likes me for me.  More importantly, it's my energy he wants, and my smell that he wants, and all the things that I can't change and adapt. Mr. Z doesn't care if I gain weight, if I'm dressed like a bum, or if I'm in a foul mood. He likes me for who I am: just my being.

At the spiritual level, I find myself living life in a more grounded and present way. When we take walks, I am seriously detached from work and stress and focused on our walk. I actually breathe in the fresh air and smell the roses. I slow down immensely to enjoy what is happening all around me.  I hear the wind blowing, I feel the movement of the grass, I hear the birds chirping, and I revel in being part of nature. More than anything, I enjoy watching him zig zag around smelling all the things that our human noses can't detect. I wonder what he smells and what he's dragging me towards. I love imagining what he's thinking, what he's dreaming, and what he loves, and what motivates him. When I am spending quality time with him, I'm completely removed from technology. I don't walk with my cell phone, I don't watch TV when playing with him, I don't work on the computer when brushing his hair.  It's just us and our energies together!

Last but not least, is the physical health that he brings me. The most tangible evidence is that I walk 100X more than I did before.  Each day, we take walks outside: in the morning, in the afternoon, and before bedtime.  No matter how cold or hot it is, we walk, whether it is for 15 minutes or sometimes up to 2 hours! The point is, Mr. Z makes me move my body in ways other than being hunched over my computer!  Diet-wise, I've also changed significantly because of Mr. Z.  My journey to Paleo is partly inspired by Mr. Z.  Even before adopting him, I did a lot of research on dog foods and what's best for him. I learned that the fewer the by-products, the better the quality.  I learned that processed foods is also bad for dogs, and that products like soy and corn are terrible for their health. On a weekly basis, I spend a lot of money on Mr. Z's foods.  I choose the best because I select items with the least amount of ingredients.  One of my favorite snacks for him is a duck and sweet potato cookie.  It is part of the "Limited ingredient" items and contains exactly what it should: duck and sweet potato!  When I began to re-evaluate my food options while working out, I've also realized that I should be a little more picky with my diet, like eliminate soy and corn!  And funnily enough, that's exactly what Paleo emphasizes!  Eat whole, unprocessed foods!  Eat organic foods! Eat simple foods! Eat like how I feed my dog?

Now why didn't I think to treat myself in the same way that I treat Mr. Z?

Hence... my quick switch to Paleo these days, and my motivation to eat simple, unprocessed, and organic.  I treat my dog so well and want him to be so healthy!  Why don't I do the same for me?  Also, when the weather gets really bad here, I also put him on the treadmill for 15 minutes a day.  Seeing how I value his daily exercise, I've also wondered why I don't prioritize my health and fitness!  Hence, the extra motivation these days for me to sign up for fitness classes and to schedule routine work-outs at the gym.

If I compared my lifestyle now to my lifestyle last year (pre, during, and after my breakup with B), the change would be substantial. Dramatic. Life-changing.  Last year this time, I was more lonely than I had ever been in my life.  I was heartbroken, anxious, scared, and completely and utterly alone in my shame and my unhealthy relationship.  I couldn't let go, I didn't know how to let go, and he wouldn't let me go. I detached myself from friends, I did no exercise whatsoever, and I ate very poorly.  My diet was so sad, pathetic, and painful for me.  I didn't eat what I want.  I didn't cook what I wanted. I had to cook for him, for us, and I had to make all these decisions based on what he preferred. I couldn't even have my own personal space to sit, reflect, or think-- because he would never leave me alone. His fears of being alone suffocated me emotionally, spiritually, and physically.  Yes, suffocating is the best word to describe the feelings he gave me.  In contrast to where I am today, where I am growing, thriving, and feeling myself recovering, I was in the complete opposite place just months ago: drowning, suffocating, and losing the will to even flail as I disappeared into the quicksand.

Thinking about all this brings back some pain, some heartache, and a lot of sadness.  I'm sorry I went through that. And I'm sorry I couldn't be where I am now.  But I'm also uber grateful for now, and uber grateful for the changes I've since made in my life. These days, my day-to-day life consists of joy, liberation, inspiration, and healthiness that Mr. Z gives to me. 

Thanks, Mr. Z.  This is my ode to you!

So, this is how I love.

Mr. Z's birthday is coming up!
I knew this was the case, but I didn't know the exact date until I looked at his adoption papers this week.
March 16, 2009-- my little boy is going to turn 3!

I can't begin to tell you the excitement that I had this week. I went into full-on party-planning mode and looked up birthday cakes and dog cake recipes for him. I felt an out-of-control excitement about making his FIRST birthday with me very special and very meaningful.  For him and for me! With a history of abuse and such serious separation anxiety, I want to celebrate Mr. Z. and let him know he is SO loved and adored.

In the midst of scouring the internet, I had an out-of-body experience watching myself get so excited.  I wondered, "who am I?"  "Who is this woman who is so excited celebrating a dog's birthday, and even planning to have a party and party invitations to friends with and without dogs?"  "Who is she and what did she do to the person that was there before?"

The me before = dog-hater.  Yes, I hated dogs starting at the age of 8 when my brother (age 6 at the time) was attacked by an Akita and almost had his entire right ear bitten off. I was next to my brother when it happened and we were at my dad's friend's house having a BBQ celebration on a warm summer day.  It should have been a perfect night, and I remember even thinking that when it happened.  One minute, I was feeling present and grateful for such an amazing summer night.  The next minute, I heard a sound and turned to see the gigantic Akita on top of my brother.  The night quickly turned from heaven to hell.  Absolute hell. We rushed to the ER, the doctor was an asshole who took his time coming (he had the audacity to ask if we would pay cash because then he'd come faster), and then afterwards, I had to go home with only my dad and worry about my brother.  I thought about giving up my ear for my brother. And it really was such a painful and terrifying process for him. After that incident, my entire family hated and feared dogs. Even teenie tiny ones like Yorkies and Chihuahas.  In college, when walking from one place to another, I would change paths if I saw someone heading toward me walking a dog.

Yup. That's the backstory. That's why I'm sometimes still surprised that I a) adopted a dog this year, and b) love my dog as much as I do.  It's even more of a surprise that I'm soooooooooooo into celebrating him and being the animal lover that I never thought I could be (and would actually roll my eyes at)!

So, now you can see why I'm in disbelief about my own behavior.  I realized I needed a reality check and quickly messaged one of my oldest childhood friends to ask her what was happening to me.  I asked her the same questions I asked myself!  "Who am I?" Am I acting out-of-character?" "Why am I acting so out-of-character?" "What is happening to me?"

When she responded, her answer was better than anything I could have ever come up with.  Yay! Thank goodness for friends who really really know me-- even better than myself sometimes!  She said to me that she did NOT think I was acting out-of-character and that I'm quite consistent with myself.  She remarked that THIS IS HOW I LOVE and THIS IS HOW I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED-- whether it is for a family member, for a partner, etc. etc.  She said that for me, it's clear that I love Mr. Z. and want to make him happy.  So, taking all this into consideration, she did NOT think I was behaving strangely, and in fact, she thought I was being VERY VERY ME.

Her response set be back.

Wow.

That was such an eye-opening response and a very compassionate way to see myself.  Since getting her perspective , I've begun to reflect on why I'm so judgmental towards myself, and why I'm not able to be more strength-oriented when it comes to viewing myself.  I also learned through my friend's modeling of how to treat myself. Rather than frame my excitement into something negative, my friend reminded me to see myself in a positive light, in a realistic but encouraging light, and to offer myself more kindness, non-judgmentalness, and of course, compassion to myself.

Noting my good morning

A quick update on my morning so far!

I got up quite early to make it to my 7:15am training session with my crossfit instructor. I grabbed a couple bites of almonds and apple on the way out and the spent the hour huffing and puffing, trying to do presses and squats and abmats—trust me, these terminologies feel unfamiliar and intimidating for me. 

When I got home around 9am, I took Mr. Z. for a walk and then grilled up a porkchop for myself on a bed of red cabbage and tomatoes. I should have taken a picture because my breakfast was delicious and colorful! Having made my very own homemade mayonnaise the other day – also known as “paleo mayo”—I felt incredibly productive and creative in my meal of art!  I video-chatted with my mom while preparing my breakfast and she just about drooled before climbing into bed (she’s on the opposite side of the world right now)!

I’m celebrating this little success today because I feel good, albeit tired.  I feel productive, energized, inspired, and hopeful.  In contrast, when I went to bed last night, I felt anxious, alert, nauseous, and hyperactive. Not a good combination for bedtime.

My stress (and anxiety) is at an all-time high as I think about the news coming on Friday morning.  At approximately 8am this Friday, I’ll hear back about my internship to know where I have “matched”.  I’ll know if/where I’m going for the next year. The upcoming future will no longer be an ambiguous cloud of “I could be anywhere”. As I’ve been waiting, I can only sit on my hands and feel like I’m walking on pins and needles, simultaneously.  The wait game makes me uncomfortable.  And my alternative/coping is to work on something else, like… dissertation-- which is even more uncomfortable because I’d rather avoid that altogether.

Hence, the working out, the eating healthy, the sleeping early lifestyle.  This is my best coping mechanism so far! 

Contentment

Throughout my process of navigating grief, loss, and past loves, I have neglected to write a little bit about the current love of my life: Mr. Z.  He may be a dog, alright, but he certainly shows me love everyday and makes me feel like I am special, important, and a very necessary part of his life.

When I was home over the last week and a half, my family fell head-over-heels-in-love with Mr. Z.  They adored him, and in turn, he loved them all: each and every one of them.  Funnily enough, this scenario is always what I wished for.  I always hoped I could one day be with someone (ahem, a mature man) who could blend into my family and win all of their loves.  I wished that he would embrace my family with the same love I have for them, and that they would reciprocate a similar level of respect and liking towards him.  Thus far, I have not met a boy like that.  And I have not ever brought a boy home who was like that.

Mr. Z., however, did all of that and more. And to this day, he continues to surprise me because of the joy that fills my heart when I see him.  Perhaps me doesn't surprise me; I surprise me!  My feelings for him surprise me! While I was at home, my brother commented on how much I loved Mr. Z. and asked if I had ever felt that way for anyone before.  My answer?  No.  Absolutely and positively no.  The feelings that I have for Mr. Z., I would have never labeled it as "love".  It's not on-par with the feelings I have had for ex-boyfriends.  It is totally different.

The way I feel for Mr. Z. is so natural, so easy going, and so secure.  Perhaps that is why it is unlike any other romantic relationship I have ever had.  I don't try to change him.  I don't have any expectations of him.  And I don't fear that one day he will leave me or that he will love me less than before.  I simply think about him when I can, wonder what's best for him, and try to give him as much as I can to maximize his health and well-being.  That's it.  That is all I do.  Is that love?  If so, then I'm finally understanding what pure, raw, unconditional love is.  And I have never felt that for anyone before.  Ever.

Very serious

I am very serious... at what I do.
When I am committed to something, I am very focused, I work very hard, and I am very determined to complete the task well.

My mom has said that to me several times in the past few years.  I am serious about my schoolwork, my career, my promises to others, and most recently, my responsibility as a mom to Mr. Z.  Just taking him on a 2-minute walk is not good enough for me.  I walk him 3 times a day if I can, and we take long walks until  he seems to have gotten all the excitement out of his system.  We are taking weekly obedience classes so he can socialize, make friends, and also learn how to be a good dog.  The courses also help him to be less anxiety-prone and to challenge his mental functioning.  My hope is to complete all of the courses so that he can be certified as a therapy dog.  That way, he can go to all of the health institutions with me when I do my work, and we can visiting nursing homes and hospitals so he can bring joy and happiness to others around him.

Even with Mr. Z. I am so serious and so committed to short- and long-term goals.  Over the past few days, I've looked through a ton of websites and visited several stores looking for a pet carrier that could fit him so that he can travel with me to visit family.  I also did some research on rain jackets so he won't get too cold during the winter.  When it rained a few days ago, he refused to do his business outside, and I ended up having to bundle up, hold an umbrella, and walk in the rain for a good 20 minutes with him to convince him to "go."  Afterwards, we spent another 20 minutes toweling him off and blowdrying his super wet hair.  So yes, a rain jacket for him is a necessity.

I take all things seriously, so how is it possible not to take relationships seriously?  I've never been the casual dating kind of girl and I hereby accept that I never will.  At some point in my relationship with B., I told myself to simply live-in-the-moment and not think about the future.  I denied my personality and the work ethic within me, and along with those core values, I also lost my sense of self-concept.

So, never again, never again.  I have to accept myself for who I am: a long-term planner and someone who, once committed, is devoted, dedicated and focused entirely on the task without wanting to look up or look around for other options.

Self-doubt

The same insecurities I have in relationships are just-as-present in my relationship with Mr. Z., my dog.
For the past few weeks, I’d forgotten about this initial self-doubt I had when I adopted him from the shelter. But in the past few days, my insecurity is returning.

In the same way that I wonder if I’m “good enough” in a relationship, I wonder if I’m “good enough” as my doggy’s parent. “Look, Mr. Z just sighed. Is he bored? Exasperated? Disappointed? If he were living with another family, would he be happier? More content? More fulfilled? Less lonely?”

Yes, I often wonder if Mr. Z. is lonely because he lives with me and me alone. Unlike “traditional” households, I do not have a partner and I do not have any children. Also, I don’t have any other pets other than him. And no, I don’t have a yard. I live in an apartment complex that is quite spacious for me, but still… what does that mean in the dog world? I can’t help but compare myself to families bustling with people and wonder if he would be happier elsewhere. In a family with 2 adults, 2.5 kids, another pet, and a fenced yard – (ah, the quintessential American dream), would Mr. Z. be happier?

And yes, Mr. Z deserve to be happy. So then, does Mr. Z. even know that these large(r) families exist but that he's not with them but with me, instead? When I adopted Mr. Z., he was living in a foster home with 2 adults (a married couple) and 4 other dogs. 4!! Imagine all the furry friends he had to play with all day everyday. And the couple also had a fenced backyard for them to run around and do their business!

Naturally, then, when I adopted Mr. Z., I couldn’t help but feel inadequate to begin with. In my “family”, there is only me, so I worry if he knows that and therefore judges me to be… insufficient. Sometimes, when I observe him lying on the carpet, eyes open and looking around, I wonder if he’s actually comparing me to the other families he has been with. Certainly his original owners sucked because they abandoned him and seems to have abused him for potty-training issues, but what about the good stuff they gave him? What about the good stuff they gave him that I can’t give? And what about the foster family that clearly was so good to him?

Ah, how familiar this insecurity is.

In my relationship with B., and probably with other ex-boyfriends too, I have often wondered how I compare to their ex-girlfriends. I wonder if I’m deficient in comparison, and I “observe” their responses to gauge whether they are happy with me. And in the same way that I watch Ziggy now, I have used so much more energy wondering if they are mentally checked-out and wanting to be elsewhere.

Hmm... “mentally checked-out”. That’s a good way to describe it. To physically be with someone but know that they are mentally elsewhere. Or that they wish they were elsewhere (instead of with you). That is the dagger in my heart that I wonder about. I frequently wonder if those around me (especially when they are sitting right next to me) wish to be somewhere else instead because I am _____ (fill-in-the-blank any word that is deficient; ex: boring, stupid, ugly, etc. etc.)

So, Mr. Z., do you mentally check-out on me? Are you wishing to be somewhere else? With another family? Well, at the very least, I know Mr. Z cannot physically “cheat on me” simply because it is not a romantic relationship and well, that’s just weird to think about. He can’t hurt me in the ways that men have, and he certainly can’t rip my heart out in all the ways that B. did. That at least, feels safe to me. If I really think about it, Mr. Ziggy is a dog and he can’t do those things. Also, I do think that Mr. Z. won’t hurt me in all those ways because already, he is 100% more loyal and loving to me than any boyfriend has ever been to me.