Sunday, March 15, 2015
Friday, March 13, 2015
Turtle told me the other night that, while he still isn't ready to date anyone, he has realized that when he is, it will not be me. He said he doesn't know why; he likes everything about me, likes spending time with me, and all that. But he's hesitant for some reason, and apparently doesn't think that's going to change.
He wants us to remain friends. In fact, I think if he had his way, we'd still talk everyday and see each other regularly.
The thing is - I just can't. I can't just flip a switch, and turn off my feelings. Seeing him would be a heartbreaking reminder that he doesn't want to be with me. I know me; I would also remain hopeful, and that would cloud the friendship. I would feel hurt every time we were together, and eventually I would resent him.
It's also confusing to me. As soon as I told him I couldn't see him, he tried to extend our evening. He said he would miss me, he held me for what felt like forever when he hugged me goodbye. Heck, when I came back from the ladies room, he had a smile from ear to ear.
I suppose I could be wrong (I mean, obviously I am) but isn't that what we're all trying to find? Someone we enjoy, who makes us smile and laugh, who we can talk with about everything, or nothing, someone who we actually miss when she's not around? I read once that you should date someone who makes you feel the way you do when you see the waiter bringing your food to the table.
So I don't understand why Turtle feels all those things (or at least says he does and behaves the same) and yet, does not want to date me. He admitted it's confusing to him, too. I think if I spent time with him, my desire to understand would get in the way of our friendship.
My friends all insist this has nothing to do with me. While I suppose they could be right, the truth is their opinions are bias.
Of course I realize that Turtle is a complicated guy. I knew that going in. I always knew this ending was a possibility, but I felt he was worth sticking it out, to see what could happen. I realize some of this has to do with him; by his own admission, he likes everything about me, and even he doesn't understand his hesitancy.
Still, it's tough not to take it personally. It's a huge blow to my self-esteem, in addition to being truly heartbreaking. I knew that he needed to get past a lot of stuff if we were ever going to have a chance. It would be easy to pin this on him; say he's afraid to commit, he runs when things get serious, he's attracted to crazy - whatever.
That could all be true. But it's also true that he knows he will want someone in his life. He knows what qualities he'd like her to have. At the end of the day, something inside him knows that person is not me.
He may find me beautiful, smart, funny, fun to be around, comfortable....all those things. But he does not find me to be enough.
Right now, that's all that really matters.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
What seems like centuries ago, Turtle asked if we could continue hanging out, but remain casual. He wanted us to continue "enjoying each other's company" and get to know each other. At the time, it sounded to me a lot like "let's see where it goes" which, in my experience, never goes anywhere good.
I remember thinking it would never work. I'd never have the confidence to "date" without knowing where it was going. I didn't think I could handle knowing he was doing stuff with friends, without feeling left out and worried. I have never been good at the "day to day" thing.
I had all but decided to just forget the whole thing and move on. I owed him nothing, and the truth was, the relationship he was suggesting was not going to meet my needs. A part of me wanted to say, I know what I want, and if you can't offer it, I'm done.
After all, that's what we say when we stop seeing someone, right? This doesn't work for me, so I'm done. At that point I had known Turtle for less than three months. We had no commitment, and were only just starting to form a friendship. I owed him nothing and could have moved on with barely a conversation.
I was pretty proud of myself. I thought it took a tremendous amount of courage and confidence to just walk away from someone because he didn't live up to my standards.
Then I realized...that's not courage. Not in this case. I was actually being a little cowardly. I was ready to walk away because I couldn't have what I wanted - constant reassurance.
My problem wasn't that the relationship didn't meet my needs. My problem was that no relationship could. I had established needs that are unreasonable, and unhealthy, not to mention not realistic at all.
I have always looked for that sort of ego boost. We could probably blame abandonment issues, or being picked on as a kid. The truth is, this issue has been a problem all my life. It was a problem in my marriage, and I think it has probably been an obstacle, one way or another, in most relationships.
I decided that, while I want to feel confident in my relationship, I do not want my confidence to come from my relationship. I want to feel good about myself, and happy in my life, regardless of what Turtle (or any man in that place) thinks of, or wants with, me. I want to be able to not hear from him for a day (or two), know he's out with friends (including women), and still feel confident in where I stand. I want it to not matter where we're going, and instead focus on how I like things in the moment. I realized that all relationships, to an extent, are day by day, and if I ever want to be happy in a relationship, I needed to get with the program.
I decided it was time to get past my abandonment hangups, and my need to always be included, and wanting to control how the relationship works. I decided it was time I learned how to feel secure without constant reassurance. I decided it was time to learn how to move forward without necessarily knowing where I'll end up. It was time to realize that, no matter what I may have convinced myself of in the past, I've never known where a relationship was going, so it's time to stop all the worrying.
It occurs to me that in many ways (some big, some small), I have stood in my own way when it came to developing a good relationship. While it is important to know what I want, and what works, it is also important to know why I want what I want, and to be sure my reasons are solid.
It is definitely still a work in progress, but I have absolutely improved. I no longer feel a pang of anxiety every time he goes out with friends, or if we go a day or two without chatting (OK - sometimes I have anxiety, but I have gotten much better at getting it in check). I've learned to look at good conversations and fun times as "positive" instead of "hopeful" (one looks to the future, while the other keeps me in the present). I've learned to relax about where we might be going, and how quickly (or slowly) we might get there.
I've also learned how to focus on what I know, rather than what I think might happen. I know he likes me; I also know there's always a possibility that could change. I have no control over his feelings or the future, so I may as well enjoy the now. Worrying about the future won't solve anything.
Something else I've learned? My relationship with Turtle happens between the two of us. Friends' advice, outside opinions, what someone says on Facebook, or even how people behave when we're in a group should not color how I see things between us.
I'm sure to some it sounds like I'm settling, or rationalizing. But the truth is, I need these lessons before I can have a happy, healthy relationship. Particularly because I tend to be attracted to men like Turtle, who are independent and off on their own so much. I can't go looking for reassurance, or expect someone to adjust his personality to accommodate my insecurities.
I always thought what I needed was a guy who gives me no reason to worry. The truth is, what I needed was to meet someone who would "force" (or help) me face my fears and insecurities, and get rid of them once and for all.
Turns out this relationship with Turtle, such as it is, meets my needs after all.
Monday, February 9, 2015
Some of my friends were super-thrilled to hear I gave up online dating. They never thought it was for me. Maybe they thought I met too many of the wrong guys, or maybe they thought dating like it was my job made it more stressful than it should be. I suppose both are true, though to be fair, both of those things have more to do with me than with online dating itself.
Still, the whole online dating thing was not a waste. I met some nice men, and made some forever friends.
Even better, I learned a lot.
All those bad dates, failed relationships, and hurt feelings have taught me what doesn't work. They taught me what I don't want, what I can't handle, and what isn't important.
I think that's how it works in relationships. It can be tough to learn what you do want, because it is forever changing. But if you figure out what won't ever work, you can - by default - learn what really matters.
Most of all, by learning how a bad relationship feels, you'll get better at identifying how it feels to be in a good relationship.
I needed all those bad dates to teach me what I was doing wrong. How rushing and controlling and worrying were hurting me way more than they were ever helping. There is a difference between knowing what you want, and assuming everyone else is wrong for not wanting the same. There is also a difference between settling and compromise.
I also needed to learn how I feel when I am in a good relationship. It seems the best way for me to get the lesson was to experience some relationship failure. One thing is certain - I know how I don't want to feel.
Finding a strong, healthy, happy relationship has been a struggle for me. Maybe more than most. But I was coming from a place where I really had no idea what one looks like, or how one feels.
I may not be quite there yet, but I know I am close. I've come a long way - all thanks to a whole lot of bad dates.
Friday, January 30, 2015
It's been a month since I've gone on a dating site. A month since meeting anyone new.
I have felt anxious a couple of times. Wondering if deleting all my profiles is extreme. Is it really a lesson, or just me giving up? Is it really all about Turtle, even though I told myself otherwise?
The truth is, it's not about him. Yes, I still have feelings for Turtle, and yes, he and I still hang out. This month we had five dates (two were on the same day, but separate get-togethers). One was a group date where I met some of his friends.
I would love for us to be more. But we're not there right now. I know that, and I could meet other people. I'm open to it, in fact. Yet I still think deleting the profiles was the right choice.
I kept telling myself I was OK not being more with Turtle - and then trying to find someone who wanted to be more. It was like I was saying I was OK with things, but not behaving like I believed my own words.
It's my pattern. I get caught up in what I don't have. I latch on to how I want things to be. I'm not with him at that event, he didn't text me tonight, it's another holiday alone.
The dating sites helped fulfill that pattern. They gave me a chance to search for the solution. Rather than just appreciate where I am, the dating sites (for me) were an excuse to focus on where I want to be.
Don't get me wrong - it's good to have goals. It's good to know what you want, and how you plan to get there. But not at the expense of where you are. It's never a good idea to miss out on the now.
Instead of lamenting my quiet phone or free schedule, I should embrace this time. Use it to enjoy stuff I couldn't if I were in a couple. Or, taking the positive thinking a step further - enjoy it while I can, because soon, I won't have it to enjoy.
Giving up control is totally outside my comfort zone. I have come to realize that sometimes the only way to get where you need to be is to find the end of that zone, and step outside.
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
We are all inclined to believe ours is the right way to love. The way we show our feelings, the things we say, everything we do is how it should be done. Naturally, we expect others to behave the way we would. If they don't, we assume that means they don't share our feelings.
I've learned that, while that might be true sometimes, it makes sense to tread carefully. There's a big difference between knowing what works for you personally, and mandating how a person expresses himself.
It goes without saying that mutual respect and attraction and affection should be expected. Communication and trust should also be a part of any solid relationship. But there is no rule about how people communicate, or how they show their affection.
Maybe you meet someone you really like, but he doesn't text as quickly, or see you as much as you'd like. That doesn't mean his feelings aren't real or sincere. If he doesn't say just the right thing, it doesn't mean he feels any less affection.
It might mean you are not a good fit - and that's OK. To know for sure, you need to stop blaming him for his "shortcomings" and take a look at yourself. Is this someone you can get to know? Can you learn his behavior and his "language?" Can you get used to the way he expresses his feelings? Or do you really need someone who does things a certain way?
If his way doesn't work for you, there's a good chance that's mutual. You're not a good match - but that doesn't mean either of you is wrong. It doesn't mean his feelings are any less sincere than yours, and it doesn't make his way of expressing them any less valid. It doesn't mean you're asking too much, and it doesn't make you the crazy girl.
It just means you're different.
I'm not suggesting anyone settle, or give up on something that really matters. I just think we should all take a moment to really learn what actually matters to each of us. What works in our life; what makes our relationship good. Not just for us - but for the person we want in our life.
I'm also suggesting we stop blaming others for what we want. Figure out what you want, and own it. If someone can't offer it to you, and you're not able to compromise, understand that's not on him - and move on.
Finding a love that really works would probably be much easier if we all gave up the idea that love works the same for everyone.