Courtship Intervention

There's a frightening number of guns that show up in a
Google image search for "intervention."

There comes a time in every young woman’s romantic journey when someone in her life thinks they know better than she does. He’s too this and not enough that for you. Your backgrounds are just too different. He seems like someone who may have a midlife crisis and leave you for his secretary 15 years from now so you should probably just call it now.

In some cases there may be truth to the concern. I’m the first person to admit I don’t always make the best decisions when it comes to romantic partners, but I have managed to hold down a healthy relationship or two. And even in the midst of my worst decisions, the last thing I need is to give someone power of attorney over my paramours.

This may not be the ideal topic to tackle so soon after this post, but the fact of the matter is no one could have told me a single thing I didn’t already know about that relationship. If someone had given their opinion on the matter (they did) it wouldn’t have changed the course of its demise.

One of my closest friends spoke up in the best way possible, “I’m concerned this isn’t healthy for you, but I will let you make your own way in this and be here for you when you come to the appropriate conclusion.” I respected this approach and knew she was right. Others who presumed to know me more than they do, employed a vastly different tactic. I resented them for it.

But for now let’s put aside the most recent, extreme personal example and address this in general terms. There has never in the history of love and courtship been a happy ending to a romantic intervention. Each relationship is as unique as the combination of personalities within it. Just because you think a sizable collection of porcelain dolls is a deal breaker, doesn’t mean the psychopath isn’t a perfect suitor for your best friend (he isn’t, that girl better run).

It doesn’t matter if you phrase your concerns in the most Mary Poppins way possible, there’s no amount of sugar that’s going to ease that pill. Best-case scenario your friend politely says, “thank you for your concerns” and continues on her current trajectory. Worst-case scenario she marries the guy and you don’t get invited to the wedding.

You may be right, but in reality, unless you are inside the relationship, there are bound to be pieces left out of the larger picture. I’ve had people point out perceived “flaws” in truly amazing men before they even met the individual. I’ve also had people be perfectly supportive of some dysfunctional messes.

Most of the discrepancy comes in when friends view the relationship through their own personal deal-breaker lens. They wouldn’t like it if a guy wore that shirt, took them to this place, read that book, so I shouldn’t either. It becomes even more reprehensible when the friend in question tries to guilt me into making relationship decisions that would better align with what they want. The fact is, it’s my relationship and I happen to like that shirt, adore that place, admire that book and love that guy who treats me wonderfully, so you don’t get to question my choice, let alone try to push me to change my mind.

Unless you know the friend well enough to be able to discern your deal breakers from their own, keep your opinion to yourself. How can you tell your deal breakers apart from theirs you ask? Well, there’s a simple test: have they ever told you that they are bothered by the characteristic you are about to call out? No? Then leave it alone. Don’t presume to know what’s best for someone else.

Hail to the V

(My title is meant to deceive you into thinking this post is more topical and trendy than it actually is.)

Yes I’m going to pay homage to the loverly women in my life again. It’s been a rough week (though today pretty much rocked my socks off) and in moments where I was “turning grim about the mouth and ready to knock people’s hats off and take to the sea” (Melville will just have to forgive me for that slaughtered paraphrase) my girls came to the rescue. This is a shout out to a different group of girls than the ones who inspired this post.   Though those continue to serve me quite well, a new job has come to mean some fantastic additions to my circle of estrogen (with a extra sprinkle of testosterone for good measure as well—I haven’t forgotten you Dennis).

When I was feeling that empty “I wish I had someone to hold me” desperation, they were there for a couple solid hugs and even a kiss (on the cheek you pervs!). Despite the fact that these women have always proven to be a solid bunch, I was pleasantly surprised at how readily they came to my rescue in true princess charming fashion. They even offered to beat up a bully or two if need be, just like a big strong male-type would do. And even more than helping me deal with the issue of the day, they restored my strength in being a confident, independent woman. They’ve served me more faithfully than any boy has. And they did so with no angle. Simply because it’s what people who love and care for you do.

We are an eclectic (and eccentric) bunch coming from all walks of life with opinions and beliefs that run the gamut. And yet we respect each other so much. Even when one or the other has overstepped a boundary or found herself feasting on the stale taste of her own foot, we’ve managed to stay open, honest and gracious when addressing the indiscretion. A bigger testament to the character of these women is their willingness to step up and own their feelings and actions.

Sure we have our pitfalls and tense moments what with being human and all. But these women all do their best to remain respectful of the bonds they’ve formed. They warn the others of forthcoming crankiness without using it as free-to-sass card. They not only refuse to make excuses for offending a friend, but they step up and apologize when it’s necessary. Most of the time this is before the wronged party even mentions the offense.

Maybe it’s due to the maturity level of the women involved (with the exception of me, I’m like the immature little sister they tolerate because I’ve somehow weaseled my way into their good graces), but I have never felt so comfortable around such an impressive group of women. Each talented and successful in her own right, they have always been willing to step up, offer advice and mentor without a hint of superiority.

Among the many blessings of this new job, I count these women among the best of them. So thanks for the support ladies (and gent). I hope all women (and men) are lucky enough to find such a solid source of laughter, accountability, strength and happy-hour company.

Unspoken Rules And The Girls Who Unwittingly Break Them

I feel like this little guy. (Sheepish-cut me some slack, it's late)

Many moons ago, I apparently broke an unspoken rule about not kissing a guy (who we’ll call Narcissus) when his friend (we’ll call him Dodger), who just so happens to be your friend, likes you but never told you he likes you no matter how much nothing the kiss meant to you. Narcissus, who apparently knew that the liking was going on is completely off the hook though even though he was more aware of the wrong that was happening than you were. Are you confused? Me too.

I had formed a friendship with Dodger (again he’s the offended party in this mess) after going on a terrible date Narcissus. (The one I ultimately ended up kissing during a night of birthday reverie and folly.)

Side bar: I hope Dodger doesn’t feel further mistreated as the subject of today’s blog. But honestly, he’s not talking to me anyway so I can’t imagine this is going to make the situation much worse.

And we’re back. The whole interaction was a mistake. I was feeling all lonely and unloved and a slew of other stupid things that could only be brought on by birthday shots, and I chose to react in a not-so-appropriate manner. I didn’t make any dangerous decisions or do anything terribly destructive, but the whole encounter ended up being a bit embarrassing. So yeah, it wasn’t my crowning moment, and maybe that is why Dodger was so disappointed in me in the first place.

Fast forward to a couple weeks later and I’m hanging out with the Dodger and Co. He reveals that it has come to his attention, not 30 minutes earlier, that I had done a lil smoochin’ with his friend, Narcissus. I ashamedly admitted to my indiscretion and made a flippant remark about the stupidity of the whole event. He didn’t let on that this bothered him in the least. But after that night our friendship went from biweekly coffee sessions and downtown outings of the same frequency to crickets. Absolute radio silence. I attempted on a number of occasions to set up coffee sessions, happy hours, dance offs, and more. I heard nothing back. He had joined the ranks of the disappearing many. But the difference this time was the complete and utter lack of romantic involvement.

Then, by chance, I happened to see Dodger while out for happy hour with my work chicas. He said “hello” and I got right into “why did you completely disappear?” because I’m smooth like that. He offered some lame, mumbling excuse about how he had been neglecting all of his friends lately because he was just feeling distant or some other diplomatic spin. I pretended to accept it and let him get back to his date.

Weeks later I met up with a few stragglers, including Narcissus, from the group of Dodger's core friends and asked for a straight answer about the Houdini act. They couldn’t believe my naiveté. Apparently this guy had liked me (according to the friends, I’ve obviously never been able to pin him down to confirm or deny these claims). And the fact that I had shown his cad of a friend some undeserved affection and given him none had completely changed his view of me.

Now I don’t blame dear Dodger entirely, as I said, it was not my proudest moment. But make a crack about my undiscerning lips and move on if that’s all this is about. If it is more than that, if he actually liked me, this whole silent treatment move is completely unfair. Naïve or not, I had no idea this guy liked me. He had attempted to set me up with numerous friends. We had countless conversations about girls he was dating and how he had some serious hope for a few of them. Hell, he even shared his less-than savory one-night-stand stories, and they were a lot less PG than mine. So what gives? Why do I come out the heartless trollop in this whole scenario? And is there anything I can do to fix it.

I’ve contemplated calling him out on the amorous claims of his friends, but wouldn’t even know where to begin. Would I send him a Facebook message? A Text? Call? He wouldn’t respond in any of these instances. And if his friends are right, the confrontation will only alienate him further. I considered sending a lengthy apology about how I was unaware of his I-don’t-wanna-be-just-friends thoughts. Explain that I never meant to hurt him with my bad decision. But even that wouldn’t gain much response I imagine. Plus, if his friends were wrong, if he never, ever imagined me as more than just the awkward sister-like girl who he’d tolerate on occasion, I’d look like a narcissistic moron. So I feel like I’ve been forced into a corner of no return. I have no choice accept the fact that our friendship has come to the end of it’s road and let it go.

It just seems rather unjust. Ever the people pleaser, I want to fix the situation somehow. Plus it certainly sucks that I lost one of the first new friends I made after my move to the cold, unfeeling city (ok maybe it’s just cold). We didn’t know each other for long, but I certainly enjoyed his company and miss the friendship we did have. In addition to being one of my first new-locale friends, it was one of the only solid male friendships I had formed since college. Still, it wouldn’t be the first friendship I lost (and that one was seven times longer and even dearer to me). So I guess there’s nothing more to do, nothing more than letting him be.

But if by chance you do read this, Dodger, I am very sorry if I hurt or disappointed you in some way. I certainly didn’t mean to and wish that I had never made the decision I made that fateful evening for a number of reasons. Not the least of which is the fact that I lost your friendship in the course of it all. Again, I do apologize and hope maybe you will forgive and forget some day. I will even grant you one free day of mercilessly mocking me for my moronic move. It will be fun! What d’ya say?

Home Again, Home Again Jiggity Jig

I traded unencumbered stars for city lights, cornfields for corner coffee shops, and never looked back, but there’s something to be said about going home again. I spent this past weekend at my childhood home, which lies on a storybook farm site seven miles outside a town straight out of Beautiful Girls where the men drive pick-up trucks with misogynistic bumper stickers and the women start having babies right after high school (if not during). 

The reason for my visit (one of three this month—oy vey!) was the marriage of a high school friend, which meant celebrating with individuals I’ve known since before we realized that side pony tails and stirrup pants were regrettable fashion choices. These events always involve this strange limbo. Like stepping into the scenery of a play you were once a part of, but only some of the players remain while others have been replaced by another generation. You have no choice but to relive scenes that took place at each location you revisit. My reflections quickly turned to reminiscing about where I thought I would be at this point in my life when I was 16.

The friend who got married was one of my closest girlfriends in high school. There were three of us who hung out constantly (the other was there as a bridesmaid). These were the girls I confided in when my heart was breaking and ones who would break my heart at one time or another (and I theirs). Though we spent many sleepovers of our formative years planning our weddings in which the groom changed depending on who we were dating (if we weren’t dating anyone, he would take the shape of a Backstreet Boy or in my case Jonathan Brandis), but the constants were the girls standing by our side in tasteful bridesmaid dresses.

A particularly sordid fallout late in our sophomore year of college nearly robbed us of witnessing each other’s nuptials altogether. In fact, if I had gotten married when I had intended, she wouldn’t have attended mine. I remember feeling a slight twinge of regret as I addressed invitations to everyone who had been an important part of my life, except for her. It was actually shortly after my engagement withered altogether that I realized just how much I missed her. It was the first (and hopefully only) painful break-up I would ever endure without her. This realization and years of water flowing under the proverbial bridge spurred a renewal of our friendship.

After years of lending a shoulder as lesser men broke her heart (and regretfully missing some of those heartbreaks), being able to watch her move onto the next stage of her life with a man whose quiet strength will undoubtedly carry her though life’s trials was a purely wonderful experience. I will always be grateful that life brought us back together in time for this moment and hope it continues to bring us closer as she gracefully moves through each stage from this point forward.   

Best wishes darling girl (and to the other darling girl who's next).

Confessions From the Tragic Love Life of a 16-Year-Old Girl

The hallowed notebook.

One of my best friends from high school recently uncovered our note notebook from our junior year. Reading it ten years later is both hysterical and heartbreaking. Among the heart-dotted eyes, Stereomud lyrics and obnoxious spellings of “nite” there is some insight into what love and boys can do to the delicate psyche of a sensitive 16-year-old girl as she struggles to find her path and figure out who she is along the way. Before I chose to combat heartbreak with sarcastic cynicism, I handled each romantic let-down with raw, unadulterated (if not immature) emotion.

Maybe it was one too many viewings of Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet (we miss you Pete) or maybe it was my flair for the dramatic as evidenced by my devotion to the theater department and the class’s thespian of the year award, but I took the infancy of my love life very seriously. Basically this resulted in me being a complete idiot for most of my formative years.

The depth of the pit I entered after losing my first “love” is astounding. To read it was actually a bit terrifying. My range of emotions seemed to only include malaise and borderline suicidal. The very thought that this might be normal for any teenage girl makes me never want to procreate. Also, I’d like to sincerely apologize to my parents, friends and teachers for being a melancholy freak show during that time in my life.

Oddly enough I remember my high school years fondly. The absolute depths of despair (for those of you who aren’t lit nerds) that I experienced with every spurned confession of love seems to have escaped my memory completely. Now, looking back at how deeply I let things affect me, I wish that I could journey to that time and impart some serious love knowledge on my wretched younger self.

The pattern of seeking male attention to feel pretty began in those years as I attempted to recover from that first broken heart. I like to think I’ve since outgrown that ridiculous view of my own self worth, but I have to admit it still rears it’s ugly head on the occasional Saturday night. Perhaps if, at 16, I had learned mantention isn’t all it’s cracked up to be I wouldn’t have put up with some of the truly abhorrent relationships I’ve found myself in. Too much of my correspondence with my young friend involved belaboring the idea that ending one relationship meant I would never, ever have another.

I would have taught the poor young miss how to channel the blinding sorrow and angst that accompanies a young break up into a driving passion to better herself. Since emerging from those naïve years where every broken heart was the end of my fragile world, my sense of adventure and purpose is never as strong as it is after I’ve been jilted. Instead of woe-is-me I shall never love again sentiments I’m buoyed by Helen Reddy’s anthem (not really, that song is kind of terrible, but it’s a nice idea). I can’t imagine what I might have accomplished if I had only embraced that philosophy ten years ago. With the sheer volume of broken hearts I’ve endured (I told you I had a flair for the dramatic) I likely could have ended world hunger by now or at least developed nylons that don’t tear within the first 24 hours out of the package.

Honestly, the most heart-wrenching part of reliving these adolescent aches was the sheer disregard other young women had for each other’s struggles. This didn’t pertain to the friend who also laid her soul bear on the pages of our notebook but the other young women who made a cameo appearance or two.

In the midst of some of my (unnecessarily) darkest days, girls I had considered close friends turned on me for reasons now unknown but, most likely, undeniably trivial. Here I was shattered by the enemy gender, and I couldn’t even rely on my fellow Bettys to offer some perspective. So the last piece of advice I have wouldn’t exactly be directed toward miniature me (though I’m sure I have been guilty of betraying my own persuasion at one time or another) but the ones who have sunk a training stiletto into the side of a broken little girl while she’s desperately trying to find her worth outside of a relationship.

In a world where women can, at times, be viewed as disposable by the cruder sex, our friendships (both male and female, actually) are sacred. We should remember this at every age so we can be there to offer up the perspective we so desperately needed at 16.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

I’ve had a number of relationships end. Some because we fought too much, some because the spark wasn’t there and some because someone seemingly better came along. Regardless of the reason for the split, the break up process has been much the same: mourn, miss the individual, relive the memories, wish it wasn’t over, think the break up is for the best, then move on. I’m wondering what this process will be when a friendship ends.

I was recently dumped by an individual I have known and loved for more than seven years. The reason behind the break up is irrelevant. The process has been much the same. We’ve had to go through the painfully awkward ritual of exchanging the stuff. It was nothing like the exchanges I’ve experienced in the past. It was cold and completely detached. It felt procedural. I’m not sure why this is. I have more history with her than I did in any other failed relationship I’ve ever had.

I thought maybe it was because this has been coming for some time and I’ve been emotionally prepared for it. But I’ve been in other situations where I’ve known for some time that a break up was imminent, but I still fell apart after it was final. I’ve been the dumper who has carefully weighed the pros and cons of a particular relationship before making the strategic move of ending it. Even then, with all these logical factors backing up my decision, I’ve crumbled when it was officially done.

This time I’ve handled it in a very calm, collected manner. I realize it is a friendship ending and not a love that has vanished. Still, I’ve spent seven years with this girl, making this relationship three times longer than any of my actual relationships. We saw each other at least once a week. Talked online and text messaged hourly. There should be a gaping hole where she used to be, but there’s not.

I am sad and I miss her. I see pictures and think of her when I drive by our restaurant. I see something funny that I know she will appreciate and I have to stop myself from texting her. Still there isn’t that devastating soul-crushing emptiness that typically occurs when a well-forged connection is completely severed. The whole thing lacks a sense of finality.

Maybe it’s because I don’t really believe it’s final I have no reason to believe it isn’t. This friend has cut ties with another girl more than two years ago and they still haven’t reconciled. So this girl does tend to make a friend dumping stick, but I still haven’t fully comprehended what this actually means for my friendship.

Maybe it’s because moving on from a broken friendship doesn’t mean the same thing as moving on from a broken relationship. Once you move on from relationships and you find someone else, your former relationship can never be restored to the capacity it once was. Well, not without becoming a Mormon it can’t. But you can have multitudes of friends and you can return to an old friend even if you have found another in the interim. In theory.

The reality is even if the relationship is renewed on some level, it will likely never become exactly what it was before it ended. The two individuals will have changed in the interim and have found new life paths that don’t necessarily fit neatly into the life path the other is on.

I have only actively ended a friendship once in my adult life. A few years after I had ended it, I forgave her for the indiscretions of the past, and we became friends again. A lot had occurred in her life and mine during those years we spent apart. Our lives didn’t mesh as nicely as they used to. That’s not to say, that she isn’t a wonderful friend. She would do anything for me, we just lost some of the strength in our bond. Strength that comes with facing major life events together. Now, our lives are on separate paths. When we actively bring those paths together, we connect and have a fantastic time, but it isn’t what it could be had we not taken the detour.

I’m afraid this most recent break up will be more permanent than the friendship I ended and then renewed. Even if it isn’t, I’m afraid it won’t be what it was. And that is heartbreaking no matter how unhealthy or dysfunctional the relationship was in the first place. 

The Anti-Valentine's Day

I couldn’t let Valentine’s pass without writing a blog, it’s pretty much expected. However, this one isn’t going to be the quintessential, bitter Valentine’s Day-is-complete-crap blog. I actually enjoy the holiday. It has never been associated with that much romance for me though. With the exception of a couple years, boyfriend or no, I celebrated the day with friends. Don’t get me wrong I’ve had some boyfriends who have made the day special for me in a lot of ways, but my most memorable ones had nothing to do with the romantic love that has come to be expected of the day.

In elementary it meant stuffing Valentines into boxes decorated with cut-out hearts, paper doilies and pink and red glitter. When junior high rolled around, I anticipated getting dressed up and going to awkward dances and socializing with my friends on the bleachers of the gym turned dance hall. While I was in high school I spent the day watching sappy chick flicks and eating junk food at Lindsey Schmidt’s house.

In most recent years, I’ve turned the day into a celebration of my girlfriends. We pamper ourselves, have a nice dinner together and enjoy a few drinks and great conversation at various bars around town. I’ve really come to look forward to getting dressed up and spending the day with vibrant women who impact my life. I don’t even feel that we do it to combat bitterness or loneliness; it’s just a good reason for us to add a little occasion to spending time with each other.

I’ve never really felt that my singleness is thrown in my face on this day. In fact, I don’t think it is anything less than a blessing at this point in my life. I am facing some major life changes and some great opportunities that I wouldn’t be able to take advantage of if I were tied down. I also wouldn’t have the confidence to push myself to take on these new challenges if it weren’t for some of the amazing women I call my friends. For that reason, it seems completely natural to celebrate with them this year. So, to all the women (and some men too ;-)) in my life who encourage and stand by me, Happy Valentine’s Day!

Dibs and the Code Breaker

In Jr. High it was common practice for people to stay away from girls or boys their friends were interested in. The rules were simple: if Sally was digging Johnny and Suzie held Johnny’s hand at lunch, Suzie would immediately be ostracized by the rest of the girls. As adults the lines become smudged and rules that were once unflinchingly rigid now seem childish and unreasonable.

However, the rules still apply to some degree and they seem to be more common among men than women (which actually is a bit counter intuitive if you think about it). There are two basic sets of these hands-off rules.

Dibs comes into play in when a person spots another person he or she may be interested in. I’ve never experienced this with my female friends (this isn’t to say it doesn’t happen), but I’ve witnessed male friends stake claim on a girl. By doing so, Guy A eliminates the opportunity for other guys in the group to make a pass. In some cases the rules still apply if the girl clearly shows interest in Guy B.

Now I understand the whole “bros before hoes” philosophy but does this really seem logical? The girl and Guy B may have serious chemistry but neither one of them can enjoy this chemistry because Guy A has invoked some absurd, arcane rule. This rule doesn’t seem to translate to the other gender, at least not in my circles. If a friend of mine is into a guy and it turns out he likes another one of her friends, she will graciously step aside.

The rules get even foggier when a history has been established. It seems universally understood that former significant others are off limits to friends. Anyone who ignores this rule is labeled a “code breaker.” But how long does the ex remain verboten? Six months? A year? Forever? Logically it would depend on the depth and length of the original relationship. However, logic doesn’t always come into play. I’ve known guys to bestow the “code breaker” title upon friends who have made a pass at girls they’ve had no romantic connection with since high school.

I guess I don’t know what the rules should permit but it seems that if two people have serious chemistry, a true friend would step aside. After all is there any sense in preventing a someone from finding happiness with a friend just because they didn’t find it with you?

For The Women in My Life

If anything good has come out of the ups and downs of my romantic road, it would be the friendships that have been strengthened during the pitfalls along this path. No matter where I am in my life I have some truly amazing friends who will always be there to pick me up, dust me off and tell me he never deserved me. I have both male and female friends who fulfill this role but for the purposes of this blog my focus is going to be on those of the female persuasion.

I think, as women, we concern ourselves too often with our romantic relationships and don’t take the time to realize how incredibly blessed we are. We dwell on what we don’t have in our love lives and neglect to realize that there are people who have proven time and again that they will love us unconditionally.

Our relationships with our women friends are very unique in that these people know who we truly are. We don’t lie to try to impress or play games with each other. We can stand in front of these individuals completely naked and vulnerable and not have to worry that we will be judged. These people have seen us fall apart over lesser men, elated over amazing men and have outlasted each and every one of them.

There was a time in my life when I ended a relationship with a friend because of things that happened with a former boyfriend of mine; the details are irrelevant at this point. As time passed I continued to miss this friend long after the memories of the ex faded. I decided to rekindle the friendship and I am happy that I did. Regardless of the men who enter and leave my life, the people who stick, the ones who really matter are the women I have surrounded myself with throughout it all.