No... I won't.

Yes, I will
he asked us to say.
And I was.
I was all get go
I was all willing
I was ready and enthusiastic,
because it worked.
When I said yes, without thinking
When I said yes, when it was hard
When I said yes, no matter what
I was immersed.
I was tossed and tumbled
but I was there
experiencing,
instead of outside
lamenting
fearing
hoping.
When I said yes, I was in it
and that was surprisingly
better
than saying no
and staying outside.

But this is different.
This is acceptance.
This is accepting, that she is gone.

And foolish me
believes
that if I stay outside, on this one
that she will come back
that I will have had her
that my life will not be
what it was.

I know I can't change the past
I know she won't be there in the future
But I just don't want it.
I don't want it to be true,
I want it to be different.

No
I won't
I say to this one
I won't.

And so here I am
outside
And I guess she is there
inside
But she is gone
and so maybe
that
is what I accept.
I guess her being gone
is still her
and my refusal
keeps me farther
from that.

41 and alone? 41 and open to dating...

I decided to talk with my therapist about my issues around on-line dating, and dating in general. I explained to her my realization that it wasn't that I didn't want to find someone, it was that I felt like a failure at all of this and that I was really afraid both of being rejected and of being in relationship.
The first thing she said was how amazing it was, that I was actually admitting that I wanted to be in relationship, that I could actually express that I wanted to be with another person.
"Well it doesn't feel all that amazing," I said. "It feels really scary."
She explained how great that was too. She said that in the past, I hadn't felt any of this because I had been defending myself against these feelings, that my ego had been putting itself up there instead: I don't need others or I'm not lovable or I just haven't found the right one. But that now, I was actually feeling it. She also explained that everyone has fears around intimacy, except for those people who are defending themselves against it.
Then she congratulated me again on actually expressing my desire to be with another.
"But that's scary too," I explained. "And it kind of sucks. I went from being 41, happy with my job, all into this zen thing, and totally fine, to being 41... and alone. In saying that I want to be with another, what used to be fine... is now alone."
"Are you alone?" she asked. "Or open to dating?"
I considered this. I guessed that I actually was open to dating. It wasn't so much that I was suddenly alone, it was just that I was open to the possibility of being with another- which for me, is still really scary. But I guess all it is is being open to it, not necessarily searching for it or making it this big thing, just acknowledging it, that it's something that I do want and that I might have to tolerate some fear and rejection in order to experience it.

Happy Valentine's Day...Ha!

"Are you seeing someone?"

My friends ask me this question, and I answer no.

This does not seem to satisfy them, and they often ask another question, related to the first, “Interested in anyone? Anyone cute on the horizon? Dating online?” etc.

When I answer no to any of these, the next question is always, “Why not?”

And my answer, for quite some time, has been either that I really wasn’t interested in anyone around me or that I wasn’t really all that interested in being with someone right now.

And both those things were true: there wasn’t anyone around me whom I couldn’t wait to see next time, on whose every word I was suspended, whose mere presence set me off kilter and I wasn’t actually feeling any need or desire to be with someone, to have someone in my life. It felt like it wasn’t really on my list of things to do.

But, your friends are your friends, and when they keep asking, you either get annoyed, or you start to ask yourself why they keep asking.

I did both. I got annoyed with them for not listening to my answer which was “Dude, it’s just not where I’m at right now. Maybe it’s where you’re at, maybe it’s what you spend all your time thinking about, but I don’t, I just don’t, so let it be.” And I wondered why they were asking. I knew that they were asking from a place of love and I was pretty sure that they were asking because they wanted me to be happy. But at the same time, I didn't feel unhappy or that being with someone was going to make me happy.

Recently, however, I made a joke when someone offered me a date to eat, “I’d like a date, but not that kind of date!” The person who offered me the date asked the usual question and we started talking about dating online and why I wasn't doing it. I gave my usual response about not being all that in to finding someone right now. I also thought in my head that on-line dating just "wasn't for me." But later, I reconsidered her question. I actually imagined myself dating on line. My immediate response was sudden and strong: “Nope, no no no no way, not doing that.”

I was surprised by the force and clarity of this response, and so I sat with it for a bit. I explored my relationship with on-line dating, recalling the times when I actually had signed up for Match and e-harmony and had put ads up on Craig's List. This is what I recalled:

Failure. Absolute failure.

This was a little hard for me to take, but I also knew that it was true. I knew that my experiences with online dating had been absolute failures (no one "winked" at me on match, e-harmony felt too much like an arranged marriage, and the discrepancy between a Craig's List ad and the actual person who wrote it was just disappointing beyond belief). Back then, when it was unsuccessful, I had blamed it on on-line dating itself: the system, the lies, the people on it, the websites, the selling yourself, etc. But this time I actually felt myself when I had dated on-line. And what I felt was failure, on my part, and rejection, by others. 

And then I thought about my dates in general, and my former boyfriends, and they all felt like failures too. I had broken up with each of my boyfriends, but it was for no other reason except that I thought that they weren't in love with me and never had been, and I wanted to reject them first, so that I wouldn't have to go through the pain of them actually rejecting me. Recalling this made me feel both totally unlovable and really inept at relationships in general.

And then I realized why I wasn’t dating right now, why “finding a life partner” wasn’t first on my agenda: it wasn’t that I didn’t want to find someone, it was that I didn’t want to go in to that arena in which I was a failure. I had no interest in setting myself up to be rejected by all these online websites again. I had no interest in only being pursued by guys who ended up being freaks. And, I was afraid of relationships, of being in one, of grappling with myself and another because according to my story, I wasn’t all that good at it.

The next day I thought about what does come up for me in my life right now and I realize that loneliness actually does come up for me, often. It doesn’t show up as wanting a romantic partner, but I know for sure that I am often lonely. I also know that finding someone isn’t how I want to address my loneliness. I honestly believe that I need to address loneliness by accepting it instead of trying to fill it with distractions or with others but it’s still true that I feel lonely, often. I also know, for sure, that I feel better when I am with others and so it isn't so much of a stretch for my friends to suggest that I might not be being honest when I say that it’s just not a priority in my life, it’s just not something I need or want right now.

But mostly I see that what I thought was an absence of interest on my part, what I had no desire or focus on had actually come from a place of denial, a shutting down, a blocking of what was actually my true feelings: fear and avoidance of rejection and failure.

Feeling judged? Stop asking for acceptance

I was having a conversation with someone and then it ended and I thought to myself, "Wow, that was really weird. You had an entire conversation with that person and you didn't feel judged at all. You aren't leaving the conversation feeling accepted or rejected. You didn't wonder if they approved of what you were saying while you were saying it, you aren't wondering now whether or not you said the right things, and you don't feel like they evaluated you in any way, shape, or form. All you did was have a conversation with that person."
I thought about the person I had the conversation with. Had they changed? Had they suddenly stopped judging me? I considered the conversation, replayed parts of it over in my head to see if their words, tone, or approach to me had changed. Nope, it hadn't. This conversation was no different than any other conversation we had had before.
So then I thought about our dynamic. Maybe our relationship had changed, maybe we had changed roles or come to some place in which we were equals and so that had led me to feel less judged. But that wasn't true either. Our dynamic really hadn't changed, it was the same as it had always been and in some ways, our roles had become even clearer in a way that should have led to an appropriate place in which I actually would receive "judgment" from this person but it would be in a way that was less judgmental and more about honest feedback.
So then I went back to myself. Maybe I had changed, maybe my approach to this person had changed, maybe I saw us more as equals and so felt less judged. But I didn't. I didn't necessarily feel like we were equals or that we were similar or peers or anything like that. Any sort of hierarchy that could have led to judgment was still there, though it really didn't feel like the judgment was coming from any sort of power imbalance at all.
And then I realized that in fact I had changed, but it was in a way that I wasn't expecting. I realized that in the entire conversation that I had had with this person, I had never asked for their approval, I hadn't looked to them for acceptance, I never put them in a position in which they could judge me or evaluate me. It just never came up. And then I thought about our relationship in the past, how it had been filled with constant disappointment on my part, how I had felt like I could never make this person happy, how they never seemed to accept me.
"Poof," I thought. "That's all gone now. With this simple act of not seeking acceptance from this person, I've removed all the thoughts I had that they were judging me, that they didn't like me, that I would never make it right by them, and that we could never have a peaceful, easy relationship."
"I wonder," I thought to myself, "if this person has been like this all along. That they never actually have judged me, that they never actually were rejecting me, that they have always just been there and that I, in seeking their approval, misread all of what they were saying to me as rejection, judgment, and separation."
"Bummer," I thought. "I missed out on a lot of conversation and probably some love and kindness."
"Bummer too," I thought, "for that person who was simply being, but constantly being met with frustration and disappointment on my part."

"This is something that I want to remember," I told myself. "I want to remember to accept myself, to not look so much to others for acceptance and approval because it seems to cause suffering all around."

And the judgment thing? I want to notice when I'm feeling judged and ask myself why I'm seeking approval, wonder what it is about this part of me that is unsure, that is looking to others for acceptance.

Death comes. Soon...er

Death comes.
Soon
er.

It wasn't
what we expected.
It wasn't afternoons
on a porch
with old friends.

It wasn't grey hair
and rocking chairs
and saying things
you never would
when you were a lady.

It wasn't slow
or gradual.
It wasn't a natural slowing down
an easing into
a watching
our bodies
age.

It was cancer.
It was metastasized.
It was in a place
no one had even thought of.
And by the time it announced itself
it had taken over.

It was manageable,
it could be controlled,
but it was permeating
all the same.

And so it is here
at our door
unexpected guest
moving in
And we have no choice.

We knew that someday
our house would be visited,
we really did.
We were ready for it to come
as a meadow
as a last breath
as a sleep
a peace
an end.
But this was a stop
a sudden
a not ready yet.

And so we desperately push the door closed
Willing it back out again
And it stands
firm.
I am here.

We step back
from the door
From our pushing
and willing
and fear

step
back

tentatively
we
see

a view

different

acceptance?

acknowledgment

that it is here
that it was always here
that it was always going to come

it just came soon
er.