Taking risks

Remember when I tried to start the "I am love-able challenge" but failed? I made a grand total of 2 entries and then stopped.  All my posts thereafter were insecurity- and anxiety- filled. BUT instead of seeing that as a failure, I hereby revise the challenge! Who said my challenge had to be daily? I will simply celebrate spontaneously and as good things emerge!

Take for instance, last night.

After so many days and nights of insecurities, I decided to take initiative and be proactive. 

I reached out to Jay and asked how he was doing. I asked if he wanted to skype. Later that night, I double-checked again to see if he was still up for our videochat.

What was especially unique about yesterday was learning that Jay threw his back out when working with animals in the morning. My immediate reaction was to step-back and sacrifice my needs. In the past, I would have thought "oh, forget it. I won't ask if he still wants to talk. He probably needs rest and recuperation. I don't want to get in the way."  Meanwhile, as the day would progress, I would feel sadder and sadder, having given up my needs and wishing he would reach out to me. I'd feel sad that he isn't saying, "let's still talk! I miss you!" I'd definitely interpret that as some sort of "he doesn't like me as much as I like him."

My pattern, I think is this: I'd offer him space, and when he takes it, I'll see it as rejecting me. I'll feel unwanted and my needs (i.e., missing him, wanting to see him or at least talk to him) will be suppressed. I'll feel like I'm sacrificing myself and over time, I'd be feel anxiety-ridden and resentful.

As I've come to be more aware of my own interpersonal style, I decided to break the pattern! So yesterday, I took the risk of putting-out my needs and asking if they can be met. He said "of course!" and we had a great skype-chat where much of my insecurity was abated. How did my anxiety decrease?

• His face makes me happy
• He made references to this weekend and spending time together
• He expressed interest in joining my friends and I later this week for a celebration
• He asked me how I was doing
• He made the appropriate disappointing sounds when I told him crummy things about my day
• He joked about my body and his appreciation for "feeling it" because I've been "feeling" sore from working out lately.
• At the end of our chat, he ended it with: I'll talk to you tomorrow?

It's pretty lame that each of these bullet-points are pieces of evidence for me, so I can be sure that he continues to like me and not want to leave me. It's pathetic, I know. But that's where I am, now, and I can tolerate that.  I certainly don't love this part of me, but I'll accept it for now. 

Ah, self-compassion. Another positive!

Having needs vs. being needy

Jeremy Grey: I got to get outta here, pronto. I got a stage five clinger. Stage five, virgin, clinger.

(Quote from one of my favorite movies: Wedding Crashers) 

I called my therapist this week and cried. We haven't spoken in 6 months, and without taking time to catch-up, I told her about Jay and the anxiety that is eating me alive. She reminded me to think about asking questions as addressing my needs versus being clingy or needy.  Last year around this time, she had caught me using those words to describe myself-- and we talked about my fear of appearing clingy or needy in a relationship. She said that in a span of 5 minutes, she counted me saying those words 4 times to describe myself!

I am fearful of having conversations with Jay about what I want need.  Asking for something from him feels needy.  I imagine that other people don't need or want as much as I do.  I envision seeing myself from a third-party perspective and I feel embarrassed of what I see. I am demanding, overwhelming, and asking for so much. Probably too much. I fear that he will think that I am too much and then he will leave. So I shut my mouth and stuff my questions inside, saved for when I am alone.

My wonderful therapist reminded me that I have always been curious and needed answers-- not only in romantic relationships-- but throughout my life.  In childhood, when I wondered about my parents' marriage under the threat of divorce, I had a million questions then:

• Who will I live with if you separate? 
• Will I ever see mom again? 
• Will I ever see my brother again?
• Am I going to survive living with dad?
• Can I survive with you?
• What am I supposed to do?
• How am I supposed to make the situation better?
• Should I act tough even though I'm terrified?
• I am so scared, can someone please explain what is happening to me.

Decades later, I still have these questions, although they are now in adult relationships and the anxiety is even more intense.

Outside of relationships, I also have a similar pattern when it comes to learning. I have curiosity and questions that need to be answered before I can move forward in work, school, etc. Back in 3rd grade, I had to complete an entire page of fractions during one class session. At the time, I was still confused about fractions and wanted to solve 1-2 problems to ensure their accuracy before moving forward with the rest of the worksheet. However, my teacher forbade us from making any noise or disturbance. We had to sit silently and fill-out all those questions at once. I could not do it.  I could not finish that worksheet because of my insecurity that I didn't know how to solve fractions. I feared everything would be incorrect if I just did them my way without checking the answer first. So, I ended up pretending to need kleenex and walking around the classroom to see how my friends were responding.  My teacher "caught" me walking and I got in major trouble. And yes, she was shitty teacher.

Today, this pattern remains and is how I operate. I need to see how something is done before I do it. I need to hear it, then observe it, and finally, I can do it myself. I need all my questions answered. After which, I flourish via scaffolding, assurance, building-up small dosages of confidence and self-efficacy. Once I have that system in place, I can hit the ground running and do 10X more than other people. My productivity is unbeatable once I'm assured of what I'm doing. Without that initial foundation, however, I am insecure, confused. I am a... child. Wow, I hadn't realized that until I wrote it out.  I feel lost, unsure, dubious of myself and what I should be doing. Much like how I feel now, which I suppose makes me regress to being... a child.

So,  I guess those same questions I asked when I was a kid? Those are the exact same fears in my adult romantic relationships now.


(photo courtesy: ever upward)

Self-love

My recent posts are a good reminder of why I started this blog. Without any love for myself, I am merely a hollow shell waiting to be filled.

My identity, my confidence, my sense-concept is entirely defined by the other person. Whoever that paramour is, his perception of me is what shapes who I am.

My mind operates like this:
When I don't hear from him, I feel like I have no value.
When I think he likes something about me, I amplify that part of me ten-fold because it's what he wants.
In-between those times, when there is self-doubt, I critique all aspects of me and wonder which part is unlovable and deserving of being abandoned.

If I were a jar, I would be just sitting there. Passively waiting to be filled, hopeful for fleeting feelings of "bliss" and "in love" and "happy."  Once I reach cloud 9, however, downhill spiral begins. I am mired in anxiety, anticipating emptiness.


I live in a constant state of fear and anxiety because I don't exist until someone comes along to validate parts of me. Only then, can I birth my existence. There is no self-love here. There is not even a sense of "self" in the picture.

Well, I can't live like that anymore. I can't be in relationships like that anymore. This time, it's not the other person that is unhealthy, it's me. I can't be in such an unhealthy relationship with myself anymore.

Much of the time I wrote in this blog, I've been single and actively self-reflecting. Throughout the course of maintaining these journal entries, I grew to be at my healthiest: physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc. But I was single and that was a large part of my success. Being single means I was 100% committed to having a healthy relationship with me.

In a relationship with someone else? That changes my entire relationship with myself, so this is my new journey for the year.

As a belated new year's resolution, I challenge myself to have simultaneously healthy relationships with my beau and with me. I will strive to not lose parts of myself along the way. I will aspire not to give-up on myself at the outset.

I created this blog for the simple reason of having a better relationship with myself. This is what I have been working toward all these years and it all has to do with cultivating love for me.

Self-love: I'm coming for ya.

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.

Compassion

If I've gained anything from my relationship with B., it would be compassion.  Compassion toward others who are in unhealthy relationships, compassion for those who isolate, hide, and have shame in themselves, and in general, compassion for people who make decisions that aren't good for them.

I didn't have that compassion before.

I didn't have it for others because I could not understand the feelings they were experiencing, the internal conflict they were facing, and the indecisiveness.

I have memories of clients talking about infidelities and vowing to leave their abusive partners time and time again.  I remember feeling frustrated when they would return each week, disclosing how horrific their partners were and then doing nothing about it.  For me, it was frustrating and incomprehensible.  I used to think to myself:

  "We just spent 50 minutes talking about the awful things he has done to you.  Why isn't that enough motivation for you to leave?"

I felt sorry for my clients, sure.
I felt allied with my clients.
I felt frustrated for my clients and sometimes I felt like I knew exactly how they were feeling.

Unfortunately, I could not sustain that feeling for long because at some point, I would feel frustrated toward them. I'd feel annoyed that they weren't leaving. I mean, after so many sessions, they are still doing the same thing in their lives and not making any changes in their relationships. Looking back, no matter how much I wanted to help them, I think I lacked an understanding of what it is truly like to be in their shoes.

Today, I have newfound compassion; and it is still a process for me.  This compassion is not so much about other people, but more towards me, and then in turn, for others. Especially towards others, I find myself being less judgmental, less surprised about the choices they make, and more able to put myself in their shoes without thinking:

 "If it were me, I would probably do ____ (instead)." 

Instead, I am more able to accept people as they are without immediately thinking about how they can be better. I am more compassionate with others because I am (and still striving) to be more compassionate with myself. I am trying to be more understanding of why I dated B. to begin with, how I stayed for so long with him, and how I was able to give up everything I loved and believed in (e.g., friends, foods, my own values!) to be with him. I am trying to accept myself for all that I am: I am someone who is more ashamed than I would to be.  I am more judgmental than I'd like to be.  I am less accepting of myself than I thought I would be.  I'm trying and sometimes it's hard.  It's hard not to criticize myself endlessly for the bad decisions I have made.  It's hard to accept that when facing struggles, I can successfully deny reality and avoid problems until they are so big they swallow me whole.  It's hard to realize that my coping mechanisms aren't working and that I tend to emotionally eat.  It's hard to admit that I am sometimes lonely and feel incompetent and unworthy.

With all that said, realizing these parts of me-- even though they are parts I hate -- have helped me become more accepting of me.  At least I will admit these are problems that I have.  At least, I am open to accepting flaws in me rather than denying them altogether.  And by recognizing my flaws, I am also more able to accept others without judgment, and without wanting to "fix" them.  This compassion for others reminds me to be able to do the same for myself: Sit with myself, learn about myself, accept myself, and not necessarily do anything in the moment.  Just be.  Don't fix, just be.  At least for now.