And Then There Was One

I'm the lone single woman on this blog, and that likely won't change any time soon. As the lone single (single lone?), it's hard for me to come up with things to write about that don't sound like complaining or that don't dismiss the struggles of the new parent and new wife on here. However, I've recently figured out that, if I think about it, there are a lot of topics within the overall subject of singleness. I just have to, you know, think about it.

Since there are heavy topics and light topics, and since I'm tired and worried about other things right now, I'll start with a lightish topic: isolation.

Really, isolation could go either way, and can be very heavy, but this recent experience with it is more of a "well, that's how it is" moment than a "oh, I can't do this anymore" moment, if that makes sense. I'm currently serving in the Primary presidency of my ward--we are in charge of the Sunday activities of the children from 18 months to 12 years old, and we also concern ourselves (in a limited way) with their home lives. I am the oldest in this presidency and the only single, childless member. The women with whom I serve have all dealt with weird pregnancy issues--one lost multiples because of a uterine anomaly, one has health issues that prevent her from having anything other than C-section births--and they talk about them. That's fine. I think it's good to talk about these things so others know they're not alone and are prepared for the strange things that can happen. I don't really mind hearing about all the blood tests and appointments that come along with high-risk pregnancies (after all, I'm automatically high-risk just because of age) and I don't mind hearing about all the strange and wonderful things that go along with being a parent.

I just feel out of place when the topic moves that direction. I don't have anything but second-hand experience to contribute, and sometimes I get the feeling that my friends feel a little awkward discussing things to which I can't personally relate. I joke that I pay attention and take notes so I can be a better mom someday, but lately there's the mental undercurrent that I may never get to be a mom and the joke is losing its ability to make me feel better about my situation. One night after a meeting, the three of them started talking about hospitals and obstetricians and I had nothing to contribute to the conversation, so I politely excused myself and left.

Like I said, these moments don't make me despair (most of the time...), but they're still a little new and raw. For years I reasoned that I could deal with them because someday I'd be a mother, but now the impending loss of fertility and introduction of menopause are staring me in the face. Not that I'm going to really hit menopause until I'm in my 50s, but I'm almost 40 and my chances of having a child on my own are very, very slim, even with modern medical technology. No one in my family that I know of has had a child past 35. I don't know what to expect, but I do know the odds are stacked firmly against me and I just have to deal with that like I deal with wrinkles and cellulite. Wrinkles and cellulite are just part of life, and there's not much I can do about them, so I try not to get hung up on them. It's the same thing with being single and almost 40; it's literally a shrug of the shoulders and an "oh, well!" because there's not much I can do about it on my own.

It is what it is, and while it feels odd to be isolated in this way, it's not really disturbing or distressing. Most people don't understand, and that's ok. It's not their fault. This is just how life happens, and you either freak out about it and waste a lot of energy, or recognize that it's out of your hands (for the most part) and shrug and move on.

What's interesting, though, is that I almost feel like isolation bubble is protecting me--it's not unfriendly or threatening or sad, it's just different. And if I can't contribute to a conversation, it's ok to excuse myself and be alone in my bubble for a while.

Trust

Wouldn't it be wonderful if you could trust people with your vulnerabilities? Especially people who are close to you? When we hit the point where I could completely break down from stress, exhaustion, heart break, in front of my husband, that was a huge moment. Over the last two years we've had some REALLY rough times and being able to trust each other with those vulnerabilities has been key.

When I'm meeting new people I'll test them. I'll share a minor vulnerability with them, or a small piece of me, and see what they do with it. If they treat it with respect then I'll see what they do with another piece. I don't open myself up completely with all my ins and outs at the first. I've met people who do that, and they are awkward.

Family should always be a safe place. Family should always be one of those safe places to share your vulnerabilities.

Unfortunately I've recently discovered that isn't always the case. We have told those very close to us that we're expecting a baby, but there is one family member we have not told. And it's because of what they've done with the years of related vulnerabilities we've shared. They politicized them.

Despite what certain groups and outspoken individuals might say/have said, my uterus is not a place to make political statements. And especially not by people who should be protecting me.

I don't mind if this family member finds out that I'm pregnant. We aren't keeping it from him. But he has not earned our trust enough to find out directly from us. And that makes part of me sad.

Birth Control

There are certain things that are kind of awkward to discuss in polite society. So I'm going to discuss it here on the internet because it seems that anything goes on the internet.

I want to start with this quote from Elder Andersen's talk in the October 2011 General Conference:

When to have a child and how many children to have are private decisions to be made between a husband and wife and the Lord. These are sacred decisions—decisions that should be made with sincere prayer and acted on with great faith.

I want it to be very clear from the beginning that I am not anti-birth control. There are personal reasons related to the physical, mental, and emotional health of parents that they need to consider with the Lord and not with anyone else. They are personal considerations.

That being said, I've had some ponderings on birth control lately that I hope can be discussed respectfully.

Before getting married my basic understanding of birth control, outside of abstinence, was either "the pill" (hormonal birth control) or condoms. I didn't even realize there were so many different types of hormonal birth control out there. Or other forms of barrier methods.

When I got married the so-you're-going-to-get-married-and-have-sex-now talk with my mom consisted of her saying three words - "I suggest condoms." Because of everything being said everywhere else, we figured we'd use pills. My understanding was they work perfectly and were super easy and had no side effects (the ad agency on that one is doing a real good job).

And then I started looking more into it. And there are a TON of side effects. Granted, incidence of side effects are small, but did I really want to risk weight fluctuations, mood swings, altering my natural hormonal balance, and random break through bleeding in the lead up to our wedding while I adjusted to pills? No, not really.

I'd also heard of IUDs. Which can have hormones or not and are supposed to be super convenient. Although generally doctors like you to have a baby before they give you one of those. I know a lot of people that have an IUD.

But there's one thing I wonder about IUDs. Because IUDs don't prevent fertilization the way a barrier method like condoms or diaphragms do, or even some hormonal pills. IUDs prevent pregnancy by preventing the implantation of a growing embryo.

I know I'm completely biased on this topic because I have pictures of eleven of our growing embryos, two of which implanted and continued to grow for a while and what I want now more than anything in the world is for an embryo to implant again and keep growing.

With that being said, what I'm wondering is how these wonderful people I know who have IUDs feel about when life begins. I know they are all against abortion. Is it then okay to prevent life from continuing to grow through implantation but not okay to stop it from growing after implantation? Do they know that's how an IUD works? I've seen on other places around the internet where people who are not LDS are wondering the exact same things about their LDS friends with IUDs.

So you see, not exactly questions I could bring up at a family dinner. What are your thoughts on birth control options and when life begins?

Please keep the discussion respectful. This is me trying to understand how others think, not tell others how to think. I have my thoughts and opinions and you have yours. Please help me understand your thoughts and opinions. We reserve the rights we have as blog administrators to do what we need to do to keep the discussion respectful.

Player

In a fit of boredom, desperation, and curiosity, I joined a couple of online dating sites. One free, one paid. Both have slightly different concepts in how they go about matching people up, and I thought I'd give it a whirl.

Ho-boy.

Short version: I have three first and one second date this coming weekend AND another man I'm texting almost all day every day.

Did you count that? Four dates and five suitors? Who AM I?

Long version: I don't even know where to start. I sent out a handful of little nudges to a few guys I thought were attractive and received a few in return. Many of mine were ignored, and I ignored a few sent my way as well, but then a few turned into actual conversation. And then actual date invitations. I was headed out of town for work almost immediately, so I had to postpone all but one first meeting until after I got back.

I didn't even expect that first first date with The Pollock (he's really of Polish descent), to go as well as it did, but it did. Not only did the date itself go well, but we continued to text each other for the next two hours after we went our separate ways. Knowing we were both out of town and busy meant we didn't talk much over the next week or so, but once I had returned I, as promised, called him to schedule another date and he returned the call last night. Yes, I know I called first, but all other communication to this point had been initiated by him.

We talked on the phone for over 30 minutes, and I don't even like talking on the phone. I wanted him to get to the making plans for the weekend point sooner, but he didn't and that's okay. He called as soon as he could (work has been crazy and he's on total outside world lockdown when he's there, thank you top secret government work) and it was fun to hear from him. We should be seeing each other again this Saturday night.

Then there's The Wordsmith. We've been emailing and playing WordFeud (a smartphone version of Scrabble) and looking forward to our first dinner for a couple of weeks. He's made an effort to keep getting to know me while I've been away, and I'm impressed. Initially, I thought he was going to win over The Pollock, but now I don't know. I'll evaluate after our date on Friday.

I also have dates Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon. These guys don't get nicknames yet because I've hardly talked to them since arranging our plans and I don't anticipate them making the cut. I also had a date this last Monday evening. It was a fun activity (pub trivia), but the date itself fizzled. Oh well.

Oh! And there's the guy I was just starting to get to know and then ran into at a social event on a date with another girl! It was actually the girl I was talking to first because she came over to compliment my dress, then her date came back from wherever he was. "You look like this guy I've been talking to online." "What's his name?" "{Insert screen name here}" "[Laughs.] I thought you looked familiar too." And now his date and I are Facebook friends and I don't know if either of us have heard from him again. I certainly haven't.

I haven't even made an effort on these sites for almost two weeks, because I cannot keep this pace up! There are a couple guys I'm talking to and haven't made plans with yet, but after these other guys I'm actually meeting, the conversation already seems forced and I don't want to waste anyone's time.

And! Two guys whose radars I thought I'd fallen off months ago are starting to creep back into my life. I'm not anticipating anything actually happening there, but it's still more dudes to keep track of!

Part of this little experiment was definitely because I was striking out in my normal circle - the guys I meet through my Mormon circle. Too much drama, not enough dates.

Then suddenly last Thursday, I sent a flirty tweet to a single, Mormon guy I know solely on Twitter - because, well, why not? And, unlike the last time I tried flirting with him, he actually responded. We quickly moved the conversation to direct (private) messages and, by the end of the day, had exchanged phone numbers and moved the conversation to text messages.

And we haven't stopped.

For the first few days I was hesitant and thought to myself "Wow, dude, slow down. Don't force this.", but I'm starting to change my tune. We have a LOT in common and plenty to talk about. John Denver, as he shall be known, is clearly smitten with me and has actually said that - I'm not just inferring here. So, not only do we enjoy many of the same things, he's open and communicative about his feelings in general and his feelings for me specifically and often, something I've been saying for a long time will be a characteristic of my husband. After too many "does he or doesn't he" scenarios, I need someone I don't doubt really cares for me.

John Denver is many of the things I'm looking for, but I'm still hesitant. 1 - It's only been a week. 2 - I have, at least for now, a few other guys in the lineup (I cannot stress enough how much this has NEVER happened for me). 3 - I still don't know what he looks or sounds like. I know what he used to look like, but he's apparently lost a LOT of weight since then (which is good, because he was severely overweight, something I'm not attracted to) and has no recent pictures to share. What he sounds like is important too, for a variety of reasons. Maybe it's shallow, but physical attraction is important too.

Chances are very good right now that all these relationships will naturally play out and all but one will end soon enough that I don't even have to tell them I'm considering so many others. And chances are good that the things I'm worried about with John Denver specifically will be answered quickly.

Obviously, there's lots to evaluate about each of these men and they still have plenty to learn about me. It's just so flattering AND overwhelming that all of them have shown up at once. I hardly have time for one relationship, not to mention five!

I'm willing to give it a shot though, and I will certainly keep you all posted!

Intelligent or friendly?

It often seems like we either have the choice to be considered intelligent, cold, and distant, or we can be considered warm and friendly. But it's really hard to be considered both intelligent and friendly, especially on a first meeting.

Putting aside for a moment the fact that these types of studies use American college undergraduates/freshmen to generalize to the entire human race (it's using a sample of convenience not a true representative sample, but these studies always use it), there was a study that concluded that we can either be seen has having brains or emotions, but not both. The more of one we have the less of the other we have.

There are of course things they didn't take into account with this study. But at the same time it kind of fits with my dating experience. You're either the smarty nerdy girl that everyone is friends with but nobody wants to date. Or you're the bimbo that everyone dates but nobody cares about deeply.

Darn it all! Why can't we just be the smart, caring women that we are and have people see us for both aspects?

I did however keep my corduroy jacket on while I taught my college class today. Evaluations are coming up.

Story People

Several years ago a friend, who I lovingly refer to as my ADHD friend (and I think everyone needs a friend like him, life is always awesome around him) gave me a book called Story People by Brain Andreas. If you are not familiar with Story People you should be. It is a delightful book with something you can relate to every few pages that will make you think or smile or laugh.

Here's a few I thought related to this blog.

• Little Man - I actually really like the quirks and have no intention of ever training them out of anyone. It's our quirks that make us who we are.
• Partial Enlightenment - Now this one is hitting really too close to home right now. But it's a good reminder. My life always goes better when God takes over, it's just a hard thing to let go.
• Wheelbarrow - Now this is a lovely image. I'm not leaving my dreams, I'm just getting help with them. Related to the previous, I'm sure my Heavenly Father would be more than happy to help me push my wheelbarrow, I just need to let Him chose the direction.
• Fast Forward - And let's dedicate this one to Jinxie, because there's definitely a lot of guys missing out there.

Checklist of pride

Today a sister gave me back a book I'd loaned her. It's a book I've loaned out several times because it changed my perspective on things so much. It's called, "Confronting the Myth of Self-Esteem: Twelve Keys to Finding Peace" by Ester Rasband. I think everyone should read it.

After she gave it to me I was flipping through it I came across the section, in the chapter about identifying the needs of your heart, about people who live a checklist life.

I have a lot of checklists. They help me remember to do all the little things. So this section caught my eye. And as I reread it, my eyes became wet. This was the section I needed to read today.

The type of checklist talked about in the book is the one that leads us to say "I've done x, y, and z, now the Lord owes me the blessing I want." Which is something I recognized in me. There have been times, and now is one of them, when my prayer is something along the lines of, "I've done everything that is in my power, now it's your turn Lord."

We do need to do everything that is in our power, this is true. But that isn't the way to think about it, like a checklist. My prayers and thoughts should instead be "Thy will be done" or at the very least "help me accept Thy will."

When I was single I did everything I could think of. I was faithful in attending my church meetings. I expanded my talents to make sure I kept growing. I put myself out there in different ways so that it would be possible to meet people even if I would've rather just stayed home. But doing all of that won't bring peace if I'm then going to the Lord and basically saying, "What's wrong with you that everything I've done isn't enough?" Pride is never peace.

Things with that aspect of my life worked out better than I could've imagined. And I need to let that experience of putting that aspect of my life in God's hands to put my life back in His hands.

Desires for marriage and children are righteous desires. We should do all we can along those lives. But then we also need to remember not to hold it against God when he knows what is best for us better than we do. The natural man is prideful and putting him off is not easy. But it is the only way to have peace. And I could definitely use more peace in my life right now. I don't know that I'm strong enough yet to say "Thy will be done" but I can at least change my prayers to ask for help in accepting His will.

Disappointed

I was able to spend my evening in the temple after a day of (bits of) reorganizing and dejunking and I felt SO GREAT after I was done in the temple, and then I went to the store and was hit with a wave of disappointment. I'm not entirely sure what set it off, but I know part of it had to do with the sudden awareness that someone avoided me and I don't know why he did. He flashed past my peripheral vision on his way to the check-out and by the time I realized he'd walked right past without even a nod, he was gone. He also isn't following my Twitter feed anymore, which just added to the disappointment. I'm fully aware that sometimes I whine and complain on Twitter--it's a defense mechanism, I guess, so I don't take it out on people within a physical radius--but I've tried really hard to be positive or at least funny. Maybe I'm not positive or funny enough, but then I saw a group of friends at a wedding reception last night who kept telling me how positive and funny I was. Go figure.

As I ate my very late dinner of peanut butter toast and a glass of milk, I got to thinking about other recent disappointments:

David tells me how great I am, asks when I'm going to visit him, consults me on his house remodel, says if he had a million dollars he'd buy me a new car, tells me I'm pretty. . .and then vents about how he can't find anyone pretty/smart/faithful enough to marry.

Campbell hasn't talked to me in more than 3 months and I don't know what I did to earn his repulsion. The last time he talked to me, he mentioned how he hadn't been able to find anyone to interest him so he was resorting to an online dating profile--keep in mind he said all this while showing me pictures of his family and sitting right next to me on my couch and complimenting my outfit and remembering conversations we had months ago and winking at me occasionally. What gives?!

The General obviously thinks I'm too old for him, even though we're barely a year apart. I saw him this week, too, and he updated me on his life after giving me a great big hug, but I know he's more interested in chasing 20-year-olds (and acting like one) than in someone who can meet him intellectually.

Ken has known me for almost 20 years and is one of the funniest and sweetest people I know, and on the rare occasions we actually see each other, we seem to get along pretty well and have a variety of mutual interests. There's probably potential for something at some point (I know that could be the case with a lot of people), but we live 40 miles apart and I'm not nearly as athletic as the girls he probably wants to date.

Super Girl seems to change her personality to exactly match whoever she's dating, and this time is no exception. It's bad enough that I'm worried I won't even be able to talk to her again without feeling like I'm being judged for everything from what I eat to the books I read. She's a strong, independent woman who has done SO much to improve her life that it kills me to see her subsume so much of herself just because she's seeing someone new. I feel like I've lost the close friend I had a couple of years ago, and I don't know if it's even worth fixing now.

Diane moved back to the state to live with her parents and transfer to another job, and I am almost emotionally exhausted just thinking about her living in the same city as me again. Needless to say, I am ignoring any attempts on her part to renew a relationship of any kind. Just because you forgive someone doesn't mean you have to let that person back into your life, right?

So, I am having one of those rare "why aren't I good enough" nights. I feel exactly good enough in the temple, exactly good enough around a few people, but there are times I wonder what in the world is wrong with me--am I not friendly enough? Don't I laugh enough? Do I have hobbies that are too weird? Is it a turn-off that I love cats and babies? Should I make more of an effort to wear mascara every day? Am I too smart or opinionated? Am I too much of a homebody? Am I just too old?

Sometimes I honestly don't understand what part of me is so horrifying that no one wants to spend any time with me.

Be Excellent To Each Other

Disclaimer: Allusions to strong language and a plea not to use certain terms.

When I first heard the c-word for a woman, I was relatively unphased. I had escaped the previous 20 years or so not knowing of its existence and, therefore, was unaware of the weight it carried. Eventually, that changed. I came to realize how harsh and unkind it really was and it was added to the list of words the truly shock and offend me when I hear it, no matter the context.

And now, I can't seem to escape it. Somehow, certain people I follow online seem to toss that word around like it means nothing, among other random occurrences. While I usually don't care if someone needs to vent about a co-worker or roommate, hearing them referred to as such a cruel term makes my heart hurt. Similarly, it kills me a little inside when I hear females calling each other "whore" or worse, a la Mean Girls.

Fortunately, I have never been called any of those things, at least not to my face. Although, if anyone ever did call me a "ho", you can bet this would happen with lightning speed: How Not To Address a Lady and most of the time I hear things like this, I want to shout "Stop it! Are they really a ____? No, so be nice!"

Unfortunately, I am not innocent of using less heavy terms but with similar sentiment. I don't just throw it around in my everyday parlance, but I have been know to refer to someone else as a female dog, usually in extreme jest. But even in jest and to a party who knows without a doubt I don't really think that of them, is it really necessary?

No. It is not.

Maybe it's the pseudo-Southern girl in me, but I really do strive to be nice to everyone, sometimes to a fault. I don't like everyone I meet, not by a long shot, but I'm at least nice to them. I'm even nice to my neighbor who launches into a tirade about something new every time we see each other.

So why would I call my friends unkind terms? Why should anyone?

I really wish we wouldn't, and I hereby resolve to do a better job and live by this standard:

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. ~Plato

Life is hard enough without us being mean to each other all the time. No one is perfect, but I'm willing to bet that most of us are actually trying to be a good person and do good things, and we shouldn't discount that.

So, what do you think? Are you with me?

"Groundhog Day" on Dating

The movie "Groundhog Day" doesn't seem like it would have a lot to really teach about dating, but think about it. It's one of HP's favorite movies, so we watch it every year on February 2nd. This year I've been thinking about it ever since.

At the beginning of the movie, Phil is the worst date ever. And he goes through several incarnations of bad date throughout the movie. He:

• Thinks only of himself


• Considers getting a date a conquest


• Thinks only of what he can get out of a date


• Uses manipulative techniques to "trick" women into thinking he likes them, which he found out by basically stalking them (although in this movie it comes across differently because he flat out asks them things on successive days)


• Tries too hard to create "spontaneous" romantic moments. It's almost painful to watch the second night they build the snowman and see how hard he tries.

Now, granted, by the time he gets there he is starting to get better at the dating thing. A lot of times it's real cute when a guy tries that hard, to be romantic, but it's a fine line between cute and creepy. Trying to be spontaneous never goes well.

Of course he gets the girl in the end. And how does he do that? He stops thinking not just about himself, but also about how he can win the object of his affection. Instead he starts thinking about EVERYONE else around him. There's the tear jerking sequence where he tries to help the old man. He helps the kid who falls out of the tree, the old ladies with their tire, the man who chokes, all of that. He also works on improving himself. He expands his reading (which starts, admittedly, as a way to manipulate women). He learns new talents (piano playing).

He lives for someone other than himself. And it is that which makes him such a wonderful date. Which makes anyone, male or female, a good date.

Preparation?

I have nothing deep or profound to say about being single today, so I'll just say this:

Maybe my dissatisfaction with my job, current career path into a brick wall, and longing to stay home and can things/scrub floors/paint/weed/chase children is all just God's way of telling me not to get so caught up in work and further education that I can't (or won't) make the adjustment to wife and mother when I get married. Maybe it's His way of reminding me where my priorities should ultimately be: raising children and being a good wife and mother when the time comes.

Hm. Maybe that IS deep and profound, after all.

Confession: I'm a heathen

I have a confession to make. I did not attend the Relief Society General Broadcast on Saturday. I do watch it every year, even the Young Women's broadcast. But I'll watch it on the internet at home rather than with everyone else. And now that I'm married, I watch it while my husband goes to Priesthood the following week. But back to the big reason I didn't go this year.

The big reason - it would've utterly exhausted me and I would've been wound so tight that I wouldn't have been able to enjoy it or feel the Spirit.

I'm an introvert. Large crowds of people take a lot of energy out of me. I came home from our Visiting Teaching Conference earlier this month in such a fowl mood because I'd gone straight there form work/school and I was already exhausted. And then I had to be sociable for over an hour and it was far too much for me.

Visiting teaching I'm generally okay with once the appointment starts. That's only three people total. But I much prefer a half hour appointment to an hour long one. And getting me to set up the appointments is like pulling teeth since I sincerely hate the telephone. I set up appointments with one of my sisters through emails and I love her for that.

So when our stake planned a five hour day for the broadcast, I knew immediately that it wasn't something I'd put on my calendar. They did a three hour service project where they sewed aprons for women's and children's shelters before a light dinner and then the broadcast. FIVE HOURS!!! That would have me as emotionally exhausted as I am physically exhausted at the end of a five hour marathon. Especially since it was a stake wide activity. That's just way too many people.

One nice thing about being married is that my husband acts as a buffer for me at church now (he's an introvert too, we get along great). There aren't as many random people sitting right next to me as much any more (I've never attended church to socialize). And in Relief Society I've learned that if I sit on the aisle and put my bag on the chair next to me, I still get my breathing room and can enjoy the lesson. I've always known I was not someone who needed someone to sit next to them all the time to make me feel welcome.

Thinking about that recently I finally realized why I supremely struggled with Relief Society three years ago to the point where I walked out of the lesson a few times. The new president was a huge extrovert and wanted everyone to sit right next to everyone else and be shoulder to shoulder and all hunky-dory like that. She did that by only setting up enough chairs for the number of women she counted in Sacrament meeting (meaning half the room was empty space). And that just makes me far too uncomfortable to enjoy the meeting. Throw that in with the already amazingly tough time I was having then, and it was too much for me.

So there we have it. I'm a heathen. I didn't attend the Relief Society Broadcast with my stake. And I don't attend church to socialize.

Installing lightning pole now.

Intimidating

I have quite a few male acquaintances, and a lucky few I even consider real friends. I get along with them well, we can spend time together separately or in groups, and our time together can often be engaging and enjoyable, at least from my perspective.

Also, I may not be a supermodel, or even a size 6, but I do think I’m at least attractive. I’m not grossly overweight and I make an effort with my appearance – exercise, makeup, dress, hair, good dental hygiene, etc. I’ve even been told I look hot/beautiful/nice.

Forget why I don’t have a boyfriend yet, why can’t I even get a date?

It must me be, right?

I asked JT if there was anything glaringly obvious in my appearance or my behavior that I was missing that would be a turn off, and he couldn’t really think of anything.

However, considering that he has only rarely seen me interact with other people, since it’s usually just us, and he doesn’t really know my other friends, though he has met some of them, I realized that, while a helpful source (e.g. my crooked nose isn’t to blame), he wasn’t able to speak for a larger population than himself.
So, I put my big girl pants on and asked another trusted male friend, Lorenzo, what he knew about why I wasn’t dating.

His qualifications:

1. He is a member of my faith, and has the same beliefs about marriage and its importance as I do.
2. He actually dates.
3. We have mutual friends, most of whom he has spent significant time with and discussed such topics.
4. Our relationship has been clearly defined as platonic.

Using qualification number 3 as our starting point, I asked him, “What do you know about why I haven’t been asked out in the year I’ve been in this ward?” I made it clear I didn’t want details about who had said exactly what, just the things I should improve upon, as I’m the only one I can change.

I was afraid it was going to come out like this:



Fortunately, I really appreciated his answer.

“You can be intimidating.”

It makes a lot of sense. When you get to know me, you know I can be thoughtful, love engaging on a meaningful level with others, and will bend over backwards for the people I care about. However, upon first introduction, I can come across as a bit of a self-absorbed know-it-all.

“Yes,” said Lorenzo, “You’ve studied many things, and accomplished quite a lot, but you can present that in a way that makes you more approachable.”

When discussing the findings with my mother, she suggested that I could still admit to knowing something about a given topic, but not being a source of authority on it unless necessary.

For example:

What NOT to do-

Other Person: I’m studying Subject X.

Me: Oh I read about book about that as part of this non-fiction kick I’ve been on lately, with my friend Roxie. It’s amazing that Aspect Q and Aspect E are so alike! And then I realized how it affected my Thing and then everything just clicked.

Other Person: Um, yeah.

What TO do:

Other Person: I’m studying Subject X.

Me: Oh I read a book about that once. I really liked learning about Aspect Q especially. What do you like about it?

Other Person: Let me tell you!

Obviously, in that scenario Other Person will, hopefully, see that I’m more interested in them and their knowledge or experience than in my own, and that can’t be bad.

It’s much easier than my father’s suggestion, from a similar conversation we had long before I ever talked to Lorenzo.

“Well, maybe you don’t tell them you’re THE Person Who Does What You Do, just A Person Who Does a Broader Version of That.”

“It’s going to come out eventually. When I tell someone I’m A Person Who Does What I Do, they almost always say, ‘Oh cool, where?’ and I say, ‘The Whole Organization’, and they say, ‘Oh, like at This Department?’ and I say, ‘No, actually I work for That Department as The Person Who Does What I Do.“

It’s much easier to start with being THE instead of A, but it’s essentially the same idea that Mom and Lorenzo suggested – be personable and engaging, without coming across as a stuffy egghead. Yes, it may seem a little like a head game, which I’m very much opposed to as a general rule, but sending the right message about ourselves is important. We can’t use a Vulcan mind meld or Jedi “mind trick” to ensure we convey our message exactly as we intended.

I know exactly why I can come across as a know-it-all, which actually helps. I was taking 8th grade courses in 6th grade. I graduated from college early at 20, knew what I wanted to do with the rest of my career at 22, and started doing it. And I have read a lot about a lot. Jack of all trades, master of a few (literally, you can legitimately call me Master Jinxie). I’m the oldest child, and therefore destined to be a little bossy. I AM a well-educated, highly motivated woman, and have been for quite some time. Unfortunately, being that awesome at 22 (which is when I got the job I have now), you have to fight some age-ism and convince people that you really do know your stuff, despite your birthdate. Confident, disciplined, and self-motivated can easily be interpreted as arrogant, inflexible, and unapproachable, and I don’t want that.

Once, I had a roommate who was working on an engineering degree. We met a young man who essentially told her “Oh, I can do all that engineering stuff, but I don’t have a degree in it. I just read a few books. I could probably get an engineering job easy.”

We were appalled at his arrogance. I don’t want to be that guy.

So, I’m working on it. It hasn’t translated into anything tangible (like a date), yet, but it can’t be hurting my chances.

And, as Lorenzo reminded me as well, it never hurts to smile.

Lessons from Young Women's Basketball

Go ahead and laugh. I did. My mom did too when I told her. And I'm sure HP was just suppressing a laugh when he found out. I've been called as the Young Women's Athletic Director for our ward.

Now, I am active. I am a regular runner. But there's a reason I run. It requires very little hand/foot/eye coordination. My 7th grade year I decided to really get into school and I tried out for all the sports teams. I got cut from all of them, except track. And track didn't have cuts.

And now they want me to be in charge of the basketball and volleyball for the young women in our ward. It's worth a laugh.

This week we had a basketball clinic for the girls in the stake before play starts next week. It was to help teach the basic skills of dribbling, passing, shooting, and guarding to the girls who hadn't played before or who just wanted to come learn some more. Most of the girls were between 12 and 14.

Since the stake leaders were running it, I was able to sit back and watch. I made two major observations.

Observation #1 - There are two types of church basketball players (or at least there were this week).

The first group of girls was really carefree about the whole thing. If they made a basket, great. If they didn't, oh well, that happens, just try again. Their enjoyment of the activity did not depend on how successful they were. This was the group that made the most improvement over the course of the evening.

The second group seemed to take it as a personal insult when the basket did not move so that their ball could go in. They didn't miss because it just happens. They missed because the basket had a personal grudge against them. These girls did not look to be having a lot of fun, got easily frustrated (even though they might have actually been making more baskets than the first group originally), and actually got worse as the evening went on while their frustration level grew.

I think that first group is going to be alright in life. Bad things happen to all of us, but those girls have the ability to just let it roll right off their back while they keep going.

Observation #2 - The true point of the game.

There was one senior girl there. She's played basketball and volleyball in high school. She knows what she is doing. And she was amazing. And I'm not talking about her basketball skills. I'm talking about how encouraging and helpful she was to everyone. Nobody felt bad around her. During one shooting game I watched her purposefully miss shots she could do in her sleep so she wouldn't knock any of the other girls out of the game.

Her father came and I told him his daughter had an interesting strategy. He said she really got it. And she did. She knew that the point of church sports isn't to win. It isn't even necessarily to do well. It's to get out, try something new, enjoy yourself, and be part of a team. I told him that I admired her strategy and that he'd "done good" raising her. It was absolutely beautiful to watch her out there with the other girls.

She's not just going to be alright in life. She's going to excel. Great things are on their way with her. And not because she gets church basketball. But because she gets life.

And she gets to be on my team. I can't wait to watch how it unfolds.

Alone

I was going to write about something else. But I'll save that for another day.

Jinxie's post "I'm Tired" inspired me. Particularly the video at the end. Did you see that? It was awesome.

I lived alone for almost 8 years. No roommates. No family. No one at the address but me. Nobody's stuff in the bathroom but mine. Nobody with food in the fridge except me. Nobody to clean up the mess I made and nobody to care if I didn't do it for a few days. Living alone worked great for me. I really enjoyed it.

And I worried that getting married would be hard. I'd be sharing space with someone else. There would be another person there. Would he be okay that I tend to not do the dishes every day? There was a reason I stopped living with roommates. I didn't like them. Would I be okay living with someone else again? Was I too set in my ways?

We were lucky in that we had the space to move in together when we got married. He had a house and it wasn't full. He was actually looking forward to it finally getting decorated. So there was space for both our stuff. But he'd been doing things a certain way there for a while on his own. Would I change it too much for him? Would I adapt to the way he did things? And we're not just talking how you squeeze the tooth paste. We each used our own till one of us ran out.

Combining lives is huge. And it's taken us almost a year to get as much combined as we have. And there are still a few things that we haven't combined yet. We've slowly been putting together our bank accounts, our phone plans, the other bills. The rooms are all a collection of both our things now. I think not doing it all at once helped. We were able to ease into it.

And now the morbid part of my head is wondering if I could ever learn to live alone again. It wasn't that long ago that I was completely independent. Did I really become so dependent on someone else so quickly?

And why does that scare me so?

Holding tight

I'm a people watcher. I most frequently watch myself because I'm easy to find and follow. I've been thinking about a few things I've noticed about how I react with HP and they've got me thinking about trust and holding on.

When we are out among other people, he and I don't have to be right next to each other the whole time. I always know where he is, but we are each comfortable doing our own thing. He talks to his people. I talk to my people. Maybe we mix people at some point. But there's no stress that we have to be joined at the hip when we go out.

I was looking through some pictures of us recently, and something I've thought about before stood out to me. When we are walking somewhere he and I almost always hold hands. My arm goes behind his because it feels weird for both of us to have it the other way. But we don't hold tight. Every picture I have of us holding hands looks like the one below. We're connected, but neither of us feels the need to hold on super tight to the other.

I can loosely hold on because I know he won't go anywhere. I don't have to always be next to him because I know we'll go home together.

I love holding on, but it's nice to not need to hold on so tightly.

My Dope Box

Relationships are a lot like recreational drugs. They both make you feel good, make you forget the outside world, and help you not be alone during the bad times.

Consequently, coming off them is also very similar.

For example, it's a week, a month, or even a year since your breakup. You think of something that you know your ex would appreciate and you pick up the phone to call them, only to remember that you can't. Because you broke up, and, for whatever reason, are not on speaking terms.

It sucks.

Sometimes the craving to call them is so bad, you have to call someone else, anyone else, just to get it out of your system.

Just like drug withdrawals. Instead, they are person withdrawals. Your brain is still programmed to want to share your life with that person, and it's hard to resist doing so.

Fortunately, just like drug withdrawals, it gets easier over time. You find comfort in other things and people, hopefully healthier outlets, and the desire to call that ex dulls, and the pain of not being about to do so eases. Every once in a while, you might still get a craving, but they pass quickly. Of course, it's hard to remember in the heat of a particularly poignant craving, but it really does get better.

Another similarity is the dope box. For a recovering drug addict, their dope box might include a marijuana pipe, a joint roller, a syringe, or whatever paraphernalia their particular addiction required.

My dope box is a little cedar box that contains a year's worth of love notes, and probably should contain a certain pair of earrings. Of all the things I've collected from boyfriends past, these are the things that are just too personal to actually use or display. I do have some gifts for boyfriends past that I have out or use, like some jewelry, a book, a glass sculpture, and they often do remind me of the ones who gave them to me, but not like the notes or that pair of earrings do.

And I just can't bring myself to get rid of it.

Like a successfully recovering addict, I have no intention of doing anything with the items in my dope box. Every once in awhile, I might see it and read an old note or two, but I mostly keep it tucked away, with a mental note of sentimental value and a reminder of how far I've come since then.

I miss the writer of those notes sometimes, but I don't crave him anymore. In fact, since the writer leaving on a mission was the reason we broke up, I was prepared in advance for the relationship's end, which could be likened to a nicotine patch or a step down program, if I were to keep making the metaphors.

Incidentally (meaning I was planning this post before I found out), the ex I was most addicted to just got engaged, and I'm feeling rather unsettled about it. I don't want him back and I don't usually crave him specifically anymore, but it's still weird. It also means that all of my ex-boyfriends are engaged or married, leaving no one in the same single predicament I'm in. That probably deserves a post on its own. Also, sadly, the version of this ex that I know wasn't ready for a temple wedding, and hearing that he's getting married in the temple, I don't really believe he's ready, even though enough time has past that he could be.

You can, honestly, be addicted to anything - food, drugs, sex - anything that stimulates the pleasure center of your brain. As always, the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

Hello, again

It's been way too long since I've blogged on here. I've felt, because I'm not dating anyone or really that bothered about it that I didn't have enough to say to actually contribute to the blog. I realized, however, that it is precisely because I'm a single woman that I DO have something to say in reference to this blog and its overall message.

Unfortunately, I still don't think I have much to say today, but I'm going to say it anyway.

I'm at a point in my professional life--a very specific point, as I'm typing this at a conference for my current field--where I've realized I don't care enough about my field to want to continue in it. It's important, yes. Very important for a lot of people (no detail, because I'm trying to keep this as anonymous as possible) and I'm glad I can help in my small way, but I don't have the passion for it that makes me want to advance and become something bigger than I am. I just don't. Campbell observed a few weeks ago, "you've got to get out of here--this job is killing you", which prompted a brief discussion about "Joe vs. the Volcano" and the soul-sucking evil of fluorescent lights.

It's true, though. I sometimes dread going to work because I know that I'll be confronted with certain stressors. I love my office, I mostly like what I do (besides answering phones), and I like my coworkers. It's finally comfortable for me there and I'm glad, but I am tired. There's a lot of turnover in this field, and I can finally see why. It's incredibly stressful some days. It's incredibly hard to keep from absorbing everything that's thrown at me.

Not that my job is the most stressful in the world. Some people would thrive in this environment, but there are good reasons I didn't go into this field. There are some things I have to deal with at home that make going to work and dealing with those things at work even more difficult. I don't make enough money to really feel like I'm helping. I'm much happier when I'm creating something and not solving the same problems over and over again. Just when I finished one huge project, I discovered that something I thought was done right (done by others, no less) was wrong. I'm currently going through over 6000 individual files and cross-checking between two different databases--this is something that I wouldn't have to do if someone else had been more careful, and the sight of the 131 pages I have to check off almost had me in tears the other day. I have to do this on top of handling the usual front desk stuff (which can be pretty chaotic sometimes) and training a new employee. I'm also the knee-jerk tech support for the office because I'm not scared of computers.

Yeah, it is pretty stressful.

I long to do something different. I long to make more money so I can buy a house and build a home that is welcoming to both married and single friends and children and pets. I long to travel and improve my life. I long to get more education. But I feel stuck. I'm 35. It's a little late to be considering graduate school. It's a little late to be "irresponsible" and go for something completely different. I honestly feel like I've missed many things, and I have to remind myself that I've lived my life this way for a reason. There are experiences I'd never trade because of how I've changed and grown and become more ME.

Am I insane for even CONSIDERING things that would take me away from the stability of a salary, no matter how meager, and really good insurance? I suppose some people would say that now is the time, because I'm single and don't have any responsibilities. Well, that's not true. I may be single, but I'm responsible for more than people realize. There's a difference between 22 and single and 35 and single and I'm feeling it a lot lately.

I hope that somehow things will balance out, even if it's finding a job that pays more so I can indulge (I feel like it's an indulgence) in my hobbies and interests. Work to pay for my life, right? My single, carefree, partying, shoe-buying life, right? How about finding a job that pays more so I can help provide for others, learn the things I want to learn, and build a home? I like that option better.

There's no place like home

So, I'm job hunting. So are a lot of people. Fortunately, I'm doing it because I want to, not because I have to, so I'm not very stressed about it and I can afford to be picky.

Another perk of job hunting at this point in my life is the ability to go anywhere I choose. I don't have to run locations by anyone else and hope that they can also find a job in that area, or follow someone else to a location and hope that I can find a job there. While my career is in a very general field and I probably could find at least something just about anywhere, my specialty in that field requires a little more focus and I'd like to work in that specialty as long as I can. Not having anyone else to factor into any decisions I make, yet, helps for now.

Of course, not having someONE to factor into my job hunt does mean I, on some level, have to factor in EVERYone. If I move to a big city, there should be a larger dating pool, a small city, a small dating pool. My other fear is the generalizations one can infer about city boys versus country boys. I know which one I'm drawn to more, and I may not find it if I move to city with a limited selection. On the other hand, being fresh meat in a smaller dating pool with a lower rate of turnover might help me get noticed more, so that's a good thing.

With so many factors to consider, I'm not really considering them at all. I think about it, but I'm not stressing about it. I know I can move just about anywhere and be fine. Moving from The Homeland to Where I Am Now (somewhere I'd never even been before) was a big, scary deal, but not only did I survive it, I blossomed and have really come into my own here.

Consequently, the one place I really don't want to move to is The Homeland. My family would be thrilled if I did, of course. I know this because many of our conversations go like this:

Parents: How's the job hunt?

Me: Good. I applied at ___ and ____ yesterday.

Parents: Did you hear about (semi-related job) at (place in The Homeland)?

I have actually applied for a job there, and there is probably going to be an opening a few months that I'll seriously consider if something else hasn't come up first.

Still, moving to The Homeland scares me more than to yet another place I've never even visited before.

You see, when I left The Homeland, it was at the end of a very, very rough year for me. I was not where I should have been spiritually, emotionally, or socially. Getting my miracle job in a completely new place was what finally woke me up and got me out of that rut. I'm afraid that if I move back, I will somehow slip back into all that. I'll find myself associating with the same people (because even some of the worst offenders are still part of my life, at least peripherally), living under the shadows of others, and otherwise falling into old habits and badness, negating everything that has happened since. Luckily, knowing that I am afraid, knowing why, and knowing that I'm a much stronger person than I used to be will probably mean that I'd be just fine.

In complete contrast to my feelings, one of my roommates from that year is not only moving back to the same neighborhood, but is actually buying the exact same house we lived in, this time with her boyfriend. Now, she lived there a lot longer than I did, and it was also where her own life was changed in many ways, good and bad. As afraid as I am to move back, she's probably just as excited, if not more so. I really hope it's the home and experience this go round that she's expecting it to be, and if she and her boyfriend have grown up as much as they reportedly have, it likely will.

I have faith that I will find a better job, that I will make any future dwelling place a true home and not just a place to sleep (like my current home is now), and that these things will happen wherever God wants me to be.

Even if it is The Homeland.

Names

I've been thinking about names recently.

When we were dating, we would often use each other's names when talking to each other or emailing each other. Using someone's name adds emphasis. It personalizes what you are saying. It makes it just for that person. "I love you" is always a powerful phrase. But adding in the person's name to it makes it even more powerful.

For some reason though, we kind of stopped doing it after we started being together all the time when we were married. Recently, we've started again though. Some nights before bed we'll add our names to our nightly "I love you." Even now it really makes a difference. Names are powerful.

Which brings me to my other thought on names. They are powerful. They are meaningful. They are a representation of who you are as a person and the family and heritage all of that carries with it. And they are not to be taken lightly. Getting married is definitely a time to think about names and I made it clear from the start that I was not changing my name when we got married because I was not changing who I was completely. I am very proud of my name. I'm proud of the family it represents and the heritage I have with me because of my name. We live our lives to bring honor to our family names and the people who had them before.

The more I thought about it that way, it changed how I thought about last names and marriage. I don't want to say that I "took" HP's last name from him, but rather that he "gave" it to me. In essence it's saying, "I love you and know you will never do anything with my name that will ever dishonor it. I trust you with my name, what it stands for, and who I am." Now, that might be a bit extravagant, but I really like the feel of it. I know not everyone looks at it that way, but it's how I am looking at it.

There is definitely power in a name.