Silence = rejection?

Whenever I don't hear from someone, I envision they are actively trying to cut me out of their lives.
OR
That might seem too narcissistic, so sometimes I imagine that they don't think of me at all. You know the saying: "out of sight, out of mind."

Both scenarios SUCK because I am either a nuisance or too marginal to be considered. In short, silence frightens me because the list of options are exactly that:

1. You are actively and purposefully ignoring of me.
2. You easily forgot about me and can't be bothered to remember that I exist.

Both scenarios have happened with the same person: my first love! So, it's really not an unrealistic fear because they've both been my reality.

Today, I didn't hear much from Jay and I assumed the same. I thought to myself, "OK. He's seen you in every possible setting and is officially sick of you."

I envisioned him picking up his phone, looking at a text I sent, and then choosing to ignore it and do something else instead. That is scenario 1.

Scenario 2 is him being busy-- so busy that he hasn't looked at his phone all day and doesn't even think to do it because in his mind, it doesn't matter if I'm trying to contact him. He hasn't thought of me, so he's not  concerned about being in touch at all.

I was sad thinking about both scenarios but I plowed forward to do my work, cook dinner, and hang out with Mr. Z.

Around midnight, Jay texted to say he's been working all night. He then called to ask how my day's been, and then told me all about his busy busy day. He told me what he's planning for the rest of the week, he told me little details of today, like what he's eaten and what he fantasizes eating. He also told me he broke a spoke on his bicycle wheel (What's a spoke?) and then shared a funny story about a party that happened a few years ago with his professors and one of his colleagues.

As he shared these random tidbits, my heart calmed. My spirit slowly landed back on the ground. My sadness and anxiety slowly dissipated, and instead, laughter and warmth filled my soul. I thought to myself, "oh, I'm not invisible and I do matter to him."

Little by little, Jay has been fixing my dysfunctional, unhealthy, anxiety-ridden heart and giving me corrective experiences so that I am a little less broken than before.

With his phone call tonight, he showed me that he can be busy and still want me. There can be silence but it doesn't necessarily mean he is ignoring me or forgetting me. Apparently, silence isn't always a sign of rejection or abandonment. It doesn't always foreshadow impending loss and pain. Silence isn't always permanent.

Planning for 2

It's still hard to believe I have a boyfriend/partner.
That is because for me, having a boyfriend means being able to plan for 2.
That's my dictionary definition! Having a boyfriend/partner = being a "we."
Up until now, I have not thought of us as a "we"-- as one entity.

I have made plans solo; and then afterwards, asked if he wanted to join.
I have not assumed his plans include me.
I have worked hard to distinguish him from me; and his from mine.

I've been hurt too many times in the past when I too quickly assumed that there was a "we."
I entered a relationship too excited, overly vulnerable, and then inevitably heartbroken.
I'd want to expose them to everything in my world and to want to know about theirs. Meet my friends, meet my family, get to know me.  Introduce me to your friends, your family, let me get to know you!

I've been emotionally slapped in the face one too many times so that now I take 3 steps, just in case.

Today, I took a risk.
Jay's spring break is coming up and I'm unsure if his plans include me.
I am currently making some plans for during that time and feeling unsure if he or "we" will be doing anything.
I texted him 10 minute ago and have not heard back.
My heart is pounding.
I just jeopardized all that I've done to protect myself and my vulnerability. Ugh.

Loneliness in a relationship

One of the worst feelings to have while in a relationship, is loneliness.

I remember that feeling as having my soul sucked out of me: feeling like I am worlds apart from the person I loved even though I am sitting directly next to him or even laying in bed with him beside me. It's the worst kind of alone-ness one can feel.

Let me clarify that being alone is NOT the same as being lonely.  There are plenty of times when I am alone and perfectly content. Being alone can be empowering and joyful.

But being lonely? That can never be empowering or joyful.

One of the perks to being single is never having to feel lonely when with somebody. If you feel unheard, uncared for, or underappreciated, then you can move forward and hang out with someone else. No harm, no foul. There's plenty of friends out there that you can make.

But when you're lonely in a relationship with a partner? It's like being in a black hole. There's no one else you can go to and share those feelings. If you did, then you'd be engaging in some sort of emotional cheating or infidelity. So, it's completely yours to bear, all that loneliness, sadness, isolation, and feeling like he is un-reachable to you. And you are also un-reachable to him.

What will happen to us?

I've been preoccupied all week, wondering when Jay is graduating and what will happen afterwards. When I think about it, 2 feelings rise from within me:

1. Sadness
2. Anger

Why sadness? Because I feel certain about us breaking up. He will either leave me or we will be in a long-distance relationship.  He may be in a different country, a different state, a different city for sure. I'd have to re-experience long-distance again, similar to my first-ever relationship.

Feelings of anger also come up because I feel angry we haven't talked about what happens to us when he graduates. I spent so much time and energy cultivating the language to talk to the men I was dating last year. I would tell them on date 2, in month 2 at the very least, that I was leaving and to check-in on how they felt that would impact our relationship.  Jay has not done that. He has not asked for any of my input about my future. Leaving me to wonder if he even cares about our future. Am I in his?

Anger and sadness fuse together into one blazing ball of... pain. Hot tears burst out of me and I find myself unable to stop sobbing.

Why am I always the one initiating the conversation on "What happens next for us?"
Why hasn't anyone else ever cared, much less cared enough to ask me?

When B. was about to graduate and was planning his future a few months beforehand, I had asked him what will happen to us. He told me he could not guarantee the future nor give me a final answer about us. He "hate[s] long-distance." That's what he said, and we had already been in a 2-year relationship.  It was too painful accept then, but he was telling me:

"Goodbye dumb girl! I've been using you for the last 2 years while I'm here, and once I get to leave here, then it's good riddance to you too!"

If someone I was with for 2 years could leave me like that, then why wouldn't Jay (who I've only dated for 4 months) also say sayonara, baby! What else am I supposed to expect?
And if he anticipates long-distance dating, then why hasn't be bothered to have a conversation with me about it?
Am I supposed to just agree to it?  Because that's not how it's worked out for me when I've been the one to leave.

In my scenarios, all of the guys have gotten up and said "thanks, but not thanks" and then walked out of my life. How can he expect, without even talking to me, that I'll just say, "OK" and not even care about me or how I feel?

(photo courtesy from Tips to consider before entering a long-distance relationship)

Tests of trust

Sometimes, I test Jay.

I have tested every romantic partner I've ever had. And I'm pretty sure others do it, too.

What do these tests look like?

For me, they're mostly little self-disclosures rooted in vulnerability.
I say things to see if they'll warrant a reaction out of him.

The first time I cursed, I watched him to see how he would react.
Did his mouth twitch? 
Did his forehead wrinkle?
Did his lips part a little in shock?

Even if those reactions only happen within split-seconds, I can always catch them-- because I am waiting and watching for them.

Last night, I confessed to Jay how much I hate working-out. He is a work-out king and leads people twice-a-day to the gym. I couldn't see his expression over the phone, but I waited for his responses and my heart hung in the air.
Is he going to judge me? 
Is he already judging me? 
Will he still like me after this?


That's the main test, I suppose. With every disclosure I share, I'm implicitly asking him:
Now do you still want me? How about now? And even after this?

Wow. I hadn't even known that my intention until I wrote this out. When I've reflected on it, I've always assumed I was testing him rebelliously so that I can convey to him: I can't be tamed!

How untrue that is.  What I'm really asking for is: will you still stick around, knowing that I have all of these flaws, fears, weaknesses?

Punishing him, punishing myself

I had a great 12-hour date with Jay when he drove up 2.5 hours on Friday night. I had a work event that night and he sat-in and watched. It was quite nerve-wracking since it is the first time he's ever seen me in my professional element. It was vulnerable and I felt that much closer to him.

We woke up at 5am the next morning so he can hit the road to make it to his professional event. "I'll text you when I get there," he said, as he opened his car door and gave me a knowing smile. He knew I would worry about his long drive, and it was comforting to know he understood that it mattered to me. "OK," I said casually as I thought about how lucky I was to have such an understanding boyfriend who care about me and my feelings.

Except, that he didn't.

And this was the 2nd time that he didn't follow-through with his words. So, a couple of hours later, I wrote a text that simply stated, "I'm going to assume you got there safely..." and I waited for his reply.

I waited and waited and waited.

Exactly one hour later, he wrote back an apology and told me how busy it was when he arrived! He also showed me a picture of the throngs of people he had to cater to.

After reading his response, an unexpected, guttural, and animalistic sound escaped me. It came from deep within my stomach and the anxiety coursed out of me.  It was a sob and I cried intensely for less than a minute and shed only a few tears. I hadn't even known I was carrying that much anxiety.

I did not reply to Jay after that. For the rest of that day, I made a conscious effort to be unresponsive. I was too hurt and I was reliving the past.

Similar feelings of being tricked, betrayed, and beguiled came over me. When I was with B., I often felt like he had eyes only for me. It was later in my relationship that I learned the truth. That, the second I turned my back, I was out-of-sight and out-of-mind for him. Whatever promises, commitment, or loyalty he had toward me were now given to whoever woman he was setting his eyes on. I wondered; is this process identical for Jay? He had said to me: "I'll text you when I get there" and then forgot about me as soon as he left. When we're together, he treats me like he only has eyes for me! But when he's gone, obviously, I'm also out of the picture.

My mind reeled. My heart reeled. I felt sick to my stomach.

Late in the afternoon, Jay called to see how my day was. We generally don't call each other until nighttime, so I imagine it's because he thought my silence was unusual.

He was right, actually. I was in pain. But I wonder if I was also wanting to push him away with the pain. My silence was as much as my retreat as it was a punishment for him. Intentional or not, my action was my subtle way of saying: this hurts so much again and perhaps a bit of a fuck you.

The cost of my experiences

When I say those 2 words: boyfriend, relationship, I feel dazed at first. Like I'm dreaming or talking about someone else. But within a millisecond, I feel jolted awake, as though someone slapped me to remind me of what's to come.

The term "relationship" and "boyfriend" conjures feelings of devastation. Like, I'm spiraling down soon and awaits me is imminent devastation and inevitable pain.

Yes, I am in a relationship. 
Yes, I have a boyfriend.

In my head, an evil part of me laughs and tells myself that I am re-signing my contract with the devil again. I am inviting myself to be broken by someone again.

Fuck.

It has been years since my last relationship but the damage to my livelihood, my happiness, my ability to love-- remains. I have not recovered or forgotten. My scars seem faded because I stopped focusing on them. But upon touching those areas, you will see that my wounds are still open, the pain still raw.

Why can't I be normal and happy?
Why can't I simply bask in the joy of being with someone?

Plus: What does it mean to have such strong reactions? Are my feelings simply a reminder of my past? Or do they also serve as as omens for my future?

Music heals the soul

Last night, I attended that concert solo and had a great time. Unexpectedly. Haha.

I did not think I'd have such a good time by myself.  I thought I would be self-conscious the whole time. I anticipated feeling awkward, uncomfortable, and embarrassed to be alone.  But I actually didn't feel any of those things. On a few occasions, when friends texted to ask where I was and who I was hanging out with, I felt a twinge of embarrassment to say: "concert! i'm going solo."Did people need to know that this is my favorite R&B group EVER and that I would go with or without a bunch of people? Did I need to explain that I kinda chose to go alone, and that it's not a reflection of me being loser-y?

I thought about these questions before answering, and each time, I felt stronger and stronger when I decided not to explain myself to anybody.  I'm going to a concert, solo, people. It's not that big of a deal. I'm not going to blow it out of proportion to make it representative of anything else other than me going out for a good time with or without others.

In the end, I had an amazing time.  I had a really great seat, I felt very comfortable singing, watching, crying (to the songs), and dancing to the music. I felt very connected to the power of the music. I knew  all of the lyrics, and as I sang along, I re-played in my head, lots of dreams, hopes, and disappointments about my love life.

Ironically, this band is the one that I have listened to throughout my life. Their music set-the-stage for my expectations about love. Their music validated my pain when people fell out of love with me. Their music captures so much of my childhood, adolescent years, and even now, in my adulthood.

In the midst of the concert, I realized that for my birthday one year, perhaps when I turned, I had asked Robert for one of their CDs. He had haphazardly tossed that CD to me on the night of my birthday, outside of my house, unwrapped and with the "Best Buy" price tag still on it. He refused to come in for birthday cake that night, saying that he had too much homework to do and needed to get home.  It was humiliating, and insulting, and I was so disappointed. My family was waiting for him inside so we could all cut the cake together. He didn't care. He left.

Another time, about 3 years ago, I dated an asshole guy, Frank, who was not only emotionally unstable, but also verbally abusive. It was a terrible relationship, and I always had to drive one hour out of my way to see him. In the end, I broke up with him because I simply could not tolerate him anymore. That didn't make the break up easier, though.  What helped was listening to the music of this boy band and crying-- very hard-- in those 60 minute drives until all the pain, heartache, and anger flowed out of my system.

Music has healed my soul for so long, and I feel that much more empowered from the concert last night. I re-lived memories of previous relationships. I realized how much my expectations have been shaped by musical lyrics, which sometimes can be unrealistic. And I also became aware of how content I am these days, without a romantic partner to rely on, depend on, or impose those lyrics. Being alone in that huuuge auditorium with hundreds of people, made me realize that I am not alone, and that I am more connected to every thing and everyone when I am not in a relationship.  At least for now, this is the best thing I can do for myself, and I want to continue to empower myself, learn more about myself, and get healthier before I jump into anything remotely romantic ever again.

I walked out of the auditorium last night, feeling so proud of myself.  So proud of me.  I did it. I attended a concert alone and I felt great. My friends, who happened to be downtown texted to ask if I wanted to stop by and get a drink with them. That made my night even better, knowing that I can do things alone by myself, and also have great friends who I can hang out with just a few blocks away whenever I want to (literally and figuratively).

These days, I have no regrets, whatsoever.

Being alone.

Can't sleep on a Saturday morning at 6am.  Monday thru Friday, I am dying to sleep just a few more minutes after my alarm goes. But now look! On this bright and early Saturday morning, I find myself unable to sleep past 530am. UGH.

As I sit alone in my living room, I reflect again on my alone-ness and how spiritual this experience is for me.  When driving home last night, I found myself reflecting about my current lifestyle and how it's been healing me because I don't have to constantly keep taking care of others.

In the past few months, being alone has felt incredibly empowering. In almost all relationships, I feel the responsibility to take care of the other person.  Whether it is a romantic relationship, a friendship, or even an acquaintance, I think about their needs/wants/desires/preferences. Especially in a romantic relationship, their stuff always trumps my own.  This is why I feel so empowered these days to eat what I want, do what I want, and stick to a schedule that fits me without having to consider another person.

I've also realized that my responsibility toward others is not just toward human life.  When I'm working at home, I think about Mr. Z and what he wants.  I'm distracted by his needs and so I struggle with getting my work done.  In the past week, I've spent entire mornings at the coffee shop so I can do my work without having him there.  Leaving him has felt pretty selfish, but I've also been working my way up to leaving and not feeling guilty about having activities outside-of-the-house.  Before having a dog, I used to be home very very rarely.  Other than cook, eat, sleep, and watch some TV, I was never really here.  But now that I have a dog, I spend as much time here as possible, even moving my social activities into my home so that I stay with Mr. Z.  In many ways, I am happier (see earlier post on my emotional, physical, and spiritual growth because of Mr. Z).  At the same time, however, I feel a decrease in productivity because I do feel anchored to my home.

Why is it that I can only focus on myself when I am completely and utterly alone?  Why can't I do it with someone else in the room or in my space? Why do I always prioritize others before myself?

The 2 places that allow me to focus on me is: 1) airplane/airport and 2) coffee shop.  Let me elaborate: when travelling, I have long enjoyed the fact that I can stick on my earphones and tune out the world altogether.  I can choose to make zero eye contact and I can focus completely and utterly on my thoughts, my getaway, my destination, and my plans. It's completely socially appropriate and acceptable.  In fact, it's the norm that most people don't talk to each other during those journeys.  Because I tend to fly at least once a month, I also look forward to it as an empowering experience between high up in the air, removed from everything and everyone.  You are simply alone and you cannot take care of others even if you wanted to.  I am alone from people, from things, from connections, from all sorts of responsibilities.  I would prefer not having the option of wi-fi in the sky simply because that's the one and only place that allows me to get away from it all.

As for the coffee shop, I also feel it is an "alone" experience because I sit alone in my own table.  My space is that table, and with the table being open, I am (happily) alone.  Having studied before with other people, I enjoy the social aspect but am also distracted by their needs as well.  Are they tired of studying? Am I talking too much/little? Do they seem like they are antsy to get out of there? etc. etc.  Yesterday, while sitting at a local coffee shop, I saw a couple study together at the table next to me.  I felt a stab in my heart and was reminded of my studying days with B.  That was probably what our life most resembled: study dates together because we commiserated over our doctoral work and enjoyed/needed to do work all the time.  And yes, on the one hand, it was great because it was both productive and semi-romantic at the same time.  On the other hand, I hated studying with him because he would stay for hours and hours while I got colder and hungrier at the coffee shops.  I also hated going with him because he would often make me leave early to drive him around to other places.  But the chauffeuring part is another story altogether.  That's just one sad story of being taken advantaged of and letting myself be constantly taken advantaged of.  My point about the coffee shop is that I love going alone! And the more I think about it, I am so glad that I will never have to go to a coffee shop with B. again. Seeing that couple yesterday made my heart ache but it also made me feel nauseous.  I hate B. right now and want nothing closely related to him or what we did together.  Romance is out of the question, and so is studying with a romantic partner.  Seeing all these couples make me want to gag.

Excitement!

Confession: I have a mini-crush on my gym trainer. He is a good source of motivation to wake up early and go to the gym. He is a good example of fitness and Paleo eating. He is nice enough to let me text him to ask all sorts of questions at all times.

Is that bad? Is that embarassing to admit? Am I being so healthy these days because of a cute guy?
I've had to re-assess whether my commitment to eating Paleo and working out regularly is because of him. Is it?

Am I invested in eating Paleo and going to the gym because I'm attracted to someone who is practicing this kind of lifestyle?

In order to get this answer, I've been doing 2 weeks of self-monitoring and assessing myself.  After much self-reflection and self-assessment, my answer was no.  Then yes. Then maybe. And now, no.  Although maybe could still be an option later.

The reasons I say yes is because I am exposed three times a week to someone who is Paleo and super duper committed to working out and looking goooood while helping me do it.  The other reason is that when he seemed disinterested in me, I jumped off the Paleo bandwagon and cheated immensely: eating ice cream cake and spinach artichoke dip.  After that meal, I was so mad at myself and wondered if I changed my eating habits for him . Crazy question, right? But it wasn't.  It was a very honest question that I had to answer.

As I've continued to work out with him, I've come to the conclusion that he doesn't like me (romantically), and yet, I'm still determined to work out regularly and to eat as healthily as I can. After realizing that this was the answer, I changed my answer to no, because I am committed to healthiness because I CHOOSE TO BE. I'm not following this healthy lifestyle because of someone else. I'm doing it for me. Besides, I started working out even before hiring him to give me my 10 workout sessions.

Meanwhile, I've also realized the perks of liking someone, even if it is just a one-way street. It's nice to have a crush, to flirt, and to look at a guy who has a fit bod and who is so-patient with telling me how to improve my body/health.  Maybe that's why I've found him so attractive.  For the first time in my life EVER, I feel attracted to someone for who he is rather than what I imagine him to be.

I have NEVER liked anyone for the simplicity of who they are.  It's always been who I project them to be.  I imagine and wonder what kind of boyfriend they would be. I fantasize the possibilities of them being a good husband, a good father, a good son-in-law, etc. etc. I create endless scenarios about having a future together, when in truth, I don't even know them that well at the beginning.  This time around, however, I imagine nothing about my trainer and want nothing more. I'm simply look forward to meeting with him to , learning from him, watching him, and also checking him out while watching his moves. Haha! Talk about living in the present!  That's exactly what I'm doing. Enjoying the present and not flying off into possible dreams of the future.

My tendencies to skyrocket into la-la land make this crush all the more meaningful.  It's sooo nice to like someone just for who they are, and to want nothing more. I like my trainer because he's a) nice, b) patient, c) hot, d) physically healthy and seemingly emotionally healthy, e) knowledgable, f) passionate about nutrition and health sciences, and e) has a gorgeous body.

That's it! Those are the facts! And those are based on my real experiences rather than my imaginations. It's great to just like someone and leave it at that. At this point in time, I want nothing from him other than the enjoying of being able to feel attraction toward someone. It's unfamiliar for me to just like someone and not want more. However, I am also in-touch with myself enough to know that I do not want to be in a relationship right now. I cannot offer myself to anyone right now. I refuse to make compromises or sacrifices right now.  And I simply don't know enough about myself to even date to be in a relationship right now.

These realizations bring me back to my initial statement about being honest. Am I doing Paleo and working out routinely for someone else? Is this another example of adapting to someone else (because I like them or were in relationships with them)?  I can firmly say that the answer is no.  No, because I'm aware now that I adapt too easily to others' hobbies and interests.  It's true that I pride myself on being open-minded and able to like many many things.  But to actually call it my "hobby" is different. In the past, if the person I was dating had hobby ____, then I would also be open to having hobby ___, or interest ____.  I didn't even know I was doing it, but I did!

I do not want to do that again.

Instead, I want to learn more about myself these days and to nurture myself into being physically and emotionally healthy. I am still in recovery! I am still healing from the last relationship! And I need to learn more about me. Which is why (for now) I am just so happy to be able to feel attraction for someone.  Being able to just like someone makes me happy. But it's also just a perk, and not the reason I'm striving for holistic healthiness. I mean, come on! I started this blog months ago!

Grief grief grief

My grief is out of control.

It is spilling out of me like lava erupting from a volcano, and last night, it was unstoppable.  I cried for a long time after my entry and realized that my heartache dates way back to my first relationship and continues to haunt me as I try to rectify it in subsequent relationships.

Initially, I started this blog to talk about my unhealthy relationship with B., and to offer myself and others a community to talk about unhealthy relationships and the shame, heartache, angst, and suffering that we go through in isolation. I thought that I would write primarily about B. and about the contents of that relationship.  I also expected to write about some attachment issues I have so that I can explore my role in being in such a dysfunctional relationship for so long. Reviewing previous relationships also seem like a must-do for a blog that is focused on figuring myself out in relationships.  But to date all the way back to the first one, and to realize how intense my feelings still are.... that surprised me.  My emotions yesterday caught me completely off-guard and left me feeling so vulnerable and unfamiliar with myself and where I'm at.

Today, I am feeling a little better. I suppose you have to feel better after drowning in your bed of tears for half the night.  No, not really.  I didn't cry half the night, but I did cry without really understanding why or what I wanted.  I just cried.  That is grief, I suppose.  This is me finally dealing with my first loss and all that it meant to me.

My plan today is to continue to sit with myself and let these feelings emerge.  I will try not to judge myself.  I will strive to be compassionate and welcoming to the vulnerable me that is hiding deep within.   I'm working on removing my own self-contempt and choosing instead to accept that emotional mess (bad word choice) that I am.  Instead, I am going to positively re-frame how I see myself using some of my favorite things and images.  I will see myself as a multi-layered cake (better word choice?) full of raw feelings.  Each layer is a separate emotion and the grief and heartache can be the jam that oozes out. Especially because I just watched season 2 of Just Desserts, I have some images floating in my head to convey my self-representation.  Yummy!

Links to these two pictures can be found if you google: "Devil's food cake with chocolate buttercream, salted caramel and raspberries".  Again, Yum!

First love

I woke up today remembering that today is the birthday of my first boyfriend. He was my first love, my high school sweetheart, my initial foray into the world of heartstopping excitement and also subsequent heartache.

To commemorate this day, I'll write a little bit about us.
We met in high school during our junior year when both of our good friends started dating.  Soon after, our two groups of friends started going out together, to the beach, shopping, eating, playing pool, etc.  I'm pretty sure he liked me first because he started to tag along everything I did/wanted to do.  He offered to drive, to pick me up and drop me off, and he also went along with me to meet a celebrity when we were at a restaurant one time.  Slowly, our group outings decreased to just four people: our two friends who were already dating, and us.  The more time we spent together, the more I realized how much I liked him: how easygoing he was, how quiet he was (and yet talkative when something really struck a chord with him), and also how funny he was.  At around the same time, we also started taking a class together-- an unlikely possibility because we were on such different academic tracks at the time.  We were both enrolled in art history (at 6:50am) every morning, and I have to confess that I looked forward to running into him in the parking lot each day so we can walk to class together.

Our story felt like a fairly tale when he asked me to the senior prom and when he admitted to me during the first slow-dance at prom that he liked me.  He said that even though he knew I was going to the other side of the country to attend college, he still liked me and just wanted me to know.  His self-disclosure was so simple, yet so romantic and utterly dramatic in my heart.  Eventually we started dating and that was it.  We were together throughout my first 2 years of college and we took every opportunity to fly back and forth to visit each other.  He was my Romeo and I thought I was his Juliet. It wasn't until the summer of my sophomore year when we started fighting constantly about who-knows-what.  We were both so busy with school that we had barely any time to really talk or focus on one another. He was emotionally distant on the phone and he accused me of being the same. Our fights felt the same. They were difficult to resolve because it felt unnatural to break up via phone and it also felt artificial to make up over the phone.

When I got home that summer, I felt like he was emotionally distance even sitting in front of me.  We continued to fight, he continued to feel far away from me, and then after one dramatic fight one night, he just completely stopped calling me.  And I didn't call him either out of my own sense of pride.  Well, wait. I did.  I called him because we had plans to go to the beach and I hoped that the long drive would give us some quality time together. Boy was that a bad idea. During that whole car ride, he nitpicked at my driving (yes, the plan was that I would drive us) until I eventually got so frustrated that I stopped at a grocery store and said forget it.  We switched places and turned the car around and sat in silence for the next hour in the car. Back in our city, he dropped me off at my house and we said nothing to each other.  For the next few days following, we also gave each other the silent treatment until he sent a text one day asking if he should still take my mom and I to the airport for our international trip.  At the time, texting was so new, so unfamiliar, and felt so distant from a phone call that I simply exploded.  I said no and I expressed my disbelief at his insincerity. I tried to call him but since he didn't pick up, I gave up and a few days later, we left the country and that was that.  We were done.

Despite being broken up, I spent the next 4 years of my life replaying the breakdown of our relationship not knowing why it ended the way it did.  I spent 4 years blaming myself, wondering how I could have been better, more mature, and if I could have done anything/everything different to make it work.  I did not understand our break-up but I felt that it was impossible to get the answers from him as well.  In many ways, he simply disappeared and I did not feel like it was OK to find him, search him, ask him.  So I didn't.  The times when I would come home to see family, I would run into his friends (our mutual friends I suppose) but they never shared even a drop of information about him.

A few years ago, out of my own impulsiveness, I was at home visiting and I decided to give him a call.  I surprisingly knew his house number and he was shocked to hear my voice and even more shocked when I said we need to talk.  We went to a coffee shop where, as awkward as it could be, I asked why. I asked why did we break up? What happened? And his answers were, well.... I don't even know if you would consider them to be answers to my questions.  He told me a bunch of things having to do with family drama, like his mom being diagnosed with cancer, his dad's apartment being caught on fire, and his academic crisis and job crisis that had happened simultaneously.  I didn't know how to respond to what he said.  First of all, I couldn't understand why these things were relevant to our breakup.  Secondly, if these things were happening during our relationship, why hadn't he told me? Why hadn't I known so that I could at least help in some ways?  Aren't relationships about helping each other in times of need? Supporting one another? At least informing one another?  I automatically shifted into comfort mode to see how he was doing and to see how he was feeling. We made plans to take a walk next week but of course, he never called, and when I emailed, his response was that he forgot.

Could it have been any more blatant that I was simply a burden to him?

A few years ago, his close friends (a buncha girls) came out to visit me because they wanted to leave home and explore this new city and state that I live in.  They told me that my ex had told them he fell out of love with me and that our breakup was mutual and amicable.  Following our break-up, he also told them to give me no information whatsoever about him.  He made them promise not to mention him at all when they were with me.  I didn't ask about his family issues at all because his friends seemed not to know about his family troubles.  They just said that he became very introverted afterward and that he rarely goes out anymore to hang out.

So, that's it.  That's all I know about the first love of my life.  He is the person that made me question every aspect about myself and to wonder if they were THE deficiencies and flaw that made me unlovable and deserving of abandonment (with no reason).  He continues to be a mystery and a puzzle to me, and if I were to see him after all these years, I no longer know what I would do. In the past, I fantasized nine million times how I would respond, how I would look under the circumstances, and how I would want to portray myself.  By now, when I think about him, all I feel is tired.  I feel exhausted from the years of wondering and all the years of not getting any responses from him.  I may have saw him and heard him speak a few years after our break-up, but I still don't understand what happened, especially in light of his friends' testimonies.

So, at least for old times' sake, I think of November 16 every year and know that it's his birthday and a day that I used to celebrate and be more excited for than anything else.  Happy Birthday.

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.

Am I worthy of celebrating?

My friends are planning a birthday dinner for me tonight. We decided on this event late Thursday night and in less than 48 hours, they got a celebration planned.  I don't really know who will show up considering a) the late notice, and b) it's not even my birthday today.  My actual birthday is next week, but since I'll be out of town visiting family, I'm doing it now because of how crunched my schedule looks later this month.

This birthday party is pretty meaningful for me.  Born into a birthday-loving family, I am a birthday lover myself. In my family, when we celebrate someone's birthday, we give them the entire month rather than just the day. Which means that October has always been MY month.  November is my dad's month. February is my brother's month. And my mom has complete and total ownership of May because it's her birthday month AND mother's day.

With this background of having month-long laughter, fun, celebrating, and hugging to celebrate birthdays, I always dreamed of sharing such joyous occasions with my partner one day. But throughout my dating history, all of my ex-boyfriends have epically failed on my birthday. (Meanwhile, I plan huge shindigs for them-- which I would do no matter what! because that's what birthdays are! They are a celebration of love, recognition, and appreciation that THIS person exists in this world)

An example? My first boyfriend sucked at birthdays.  He didn't even come to the front door when he came to my house. My family and I had just gotten home from dinner and were about to cut the cake. He called from his car and told me to come outside. There in the backyard, standing next to two jumbo trash cans, he tossed me a Motown CD that still had a price tag on it. He said a quick happy birthday and left. He said he was so busy that he couldn't even come into the house to have a slice of cake.  He refused to stop in to even say hi to my family.

Still, B. tops the chart for being worst boyfriend on birthday.  He used "culture" as an excuse, and says that in Eastern Europe, people don't celebrate birthdays.  In fact, sons and daughters used to hammer their parents on the head (yes! with an actual hammer!) because that's what old age brings. Parents don't want to burden their children in their senior state, so that's what birthdays are really about.  Hammers and murder, apparently.

So, throughout our dating history, B. never really acknowledged birthdays or celebrated them (other than his own!).  He never took me out to dinner, never got me a cake, never got me a present (not even a sentimental one), and never even wished me a real happy birthday-- other than to mock me and to label it an "American concept."  For my last 2 birthdays, he succeeded in raining on my parade with his INaction.  When I had a small birthday gathering the first time, he went out of town. When he came back, he gave me a small box of mints and didn't even mention that I was one year older! The second year, he was even more explicit, declaring he didn't want to have dinner with my friends and I, and choosing to stay home instead.

It's quite ironic. In my head, I always thought a wonderful birthday celebration meant being with the ones you loved.  That's all I want, really.  To be surrounded by friends, family, and my partner, and to eat together, laugh together, and to share time together.  No presents necessary.  Just come together, all of you, so I can see you all at the same time, and spend some precious time with you.

So I feel different now.  I don't really know what to think about celebrating MY birthdays anymore because its just depressing these days.  My nature is to have it big, loud, fun, and over-the-top.  But I date jerks who treat it like any other day and who can't be bothered to spend time with me or those I love.  It was difficult for me to decide on having this dinner tonight, because part of me has been contaminated by their apathy.  Part of me wants to close my eyes and let the day pass by.  Let this month pass my.  Let me existence pass by, and let this life pass by.  I no longer feel like it's anything to celebrate because because as history can prove: I am not worthy of being celebrated.

Which is why this birthday dinner tonight is pretty meaningful.  It means I'll work hard NOT to be influenced by the apathetic, the hurtful, and unapologetic. I will maintain my enthusiasm for life and for celebrating with those I love. Even though I feel like I am sucked dry of positive energy, I will try to have some degree of self-worth for myself. I will believe I'm worthy of being celebrated. I want to focus my energy and appreciation to those who want to celebrate with me.  I will strive to be grateful, happy, and inspired to have so many loved ones around me who care enough to want to be with me tonight.  Because I haven't felt that in quite a long time.