Sisterz and Sh!t

This is my sister. She's the cool one. She likes to tell this story about how, when we were younger, I told her that I had a secret I would tell her when she turned 16. When she finally got to be 16, she excitedly asked me what the secret was.

"Oh that," I said. "It turns out I was wrong. I was going to tell you that you were destined to be The Most Beautiful Sister. But it turns out it's Lily."

She was pissed. But our sister Lily was really pretty as a kid, and I am terrible at lying. And either way, it still put me in last place, so #perspective, Lucy!!!

Over the summer, I went to Maine with Lucy because it was something we had always wanted to do and I am trying to be more adventurous and free-spirited like her. While there, I texted my friends to ask them if I could get my nose pierced, or if my teaching environment was too conservative for that.

They said I couldn't pull it off, so I texted them a picture of Lucy. She looks kind of like me, so I figured it would help them envision me with a nose-piercing if they saw her with one.

They were all, "No, we get it. Lucy looks great with her nose pierced. You're not Lucy. You're too Ann Taylor to pull that off."

That was depressing, as I have not shopped at Ann Taylor since I left grad school and had to buy a suit for interviews!!!

Despite our extreme differences and the fact that she can pull off a piercing where I cannot, Lucy and I have one key similarity: we suck at relationships.

Now, you might not notice this because Lucy's relationships last mostly from 1-5 years, while mine are shorter.

What they have in common, though, is that both of us genuinely like who we are as people -- until we start dating someone. Then we hate who we become. Why? Because we get needy. We go from being these fiercely independent women who travel the world, build wells in Africa, volunteer with ex-convicts, work with abused kids to... icky people who need someone else's approval.

Our mom grew up in foster care and that probably had a lot to do with her neediness. When we were kids, she would call our dad about 15 times a day, just to ensure he was still there and to find out his every move. I had a roommate who used to do that with her boyfriends, too, and it disturbed me. That's how Lucy's neediness now exemplifies itself, relationally-speaking.

Mine is the opposite. I watched all that phone-calling and was so determined not to be that person that I end up over-correcting. Instead, I initiate NO phone calls, NO texts, nothing. I'm so damn determined not to hem someone in that I just wait. And wait. And wait. And if whoever I'm dating actually has a life and doesn't have time to text me every day, I get really sad. And then eventually I get resentful. And by the time they do text me, even though I'm really happy to hear from them, I come across as bitchy.

Lucy has made "relationship rules" for herself: she is only allowed to call her boyfriend 2 times in a row. She has figured out that that's her limit before she goes ballistic and starts erupting. If he does not pick up the phone and she has tried calling 2 times already, that means that he is really busy and he genuinely cannot answer.

Another one of her tricks that she learned for herself is to delete her own texts right after she's sent them. That way she doesn't see when her boyfriend has "read" them and she can't get needy about why he hasn't responded yet.

I realize that my sister and I sound pathetic in this blog post. I DO realize that. But Lucy says, "Everyone has their issues. Literally, every single person. The question is finding someone who is willing to grow through your issues with you."

That's what I'm looking for. Someone who recognizes that I'm kind of a train wreck, but that he's kind of his own train wreck. And maybe we can be wrecks together and learn things. In counseling they teach you that the only way to grow relationally is to have relationships. It doesn't matter how many African wells you build or dollars you raise for charity or marathons you run... those things grow you as a person, but they don't grow you relationally. That only happens when you allow yourself to be in relationships.

To end this post, a quasi-quote from Table 19: There's no one else I'd rather forgive than you. There's no one I'd rather be forgiven by than you.

I think that's what we're all looking for. Someone we feel safe screwing up with because we know their forgiveness is complete and they'll help us grow through our shit.

If there's one thing I've learned as a gardener, it's that shit helps things grow.

Garrett

 I used to have this mentor, we’ll call him Greg. Greg went to church with me. I met him when he and his wife were leading a small group I was a part of. I don’t really remember how we decided to be mentor-mentee, but we would meet every so often in the conference room at his office and he would give me counsel about life, relationships, jobs, and my searing personality.

Greg told me once, “You need to be more mysterious. Don’t put everything out there. Leave things to the imagination!”

Greg did not believe in blogging one’s feelings and experiences. You should let people wonder about you and your fabulous life. Leave them guessing.

But I met another guy, Garrett, and he had opposite advice: Blogging helps you process. It seems cathartic for you.

I think both things are true, which creates a certain paradox. A cognitive dissonance, if you will.

We are all leaving this electronic footprint, you know? And mine is huge. When I pause to think about how many posts I wrote on MySpace in its hayday, notes on Facebook, multiple web logs… only my naivete allows me to sleep soundly at night, with all of that still floating out there in the ether. It’s like there’s another Elle, a cyber-Elle and she has a life of her own that I don’t even remember anymore. That’s a bit scary.  

Despite that, I would like to take a moment to acknowledge that I'm really sad. Stratski thinks I get my heart broken way too easily. She would never say this out loud, of course. But a year or two ago, I called her after this guy I really liked ghosted.

“You only dated him a couple of months!” she exclaimed. Then she realized I normally don’t even keep guys around that long. It’s pretty easy to tell if I feel any connection within a few dates, so if someone makes it past that point, it means I think they’re legit. It means I like them for real.

This happens rarely, so I suppose that makes the disappointment that much more keen when I can’t maintain the relationship, even in its fledgling state.

I get it. There are easier and more fun women out there. As Greg once told me, “Do you know why I chose my wife, even though I was engaged to someone else when I met her? Because she was FUN. The other girl was just so much effort. I could have fun with Annette, and I loved that.”

I chastise myself for not being more fun all the time. But I keep ending up with these emotional roller coaster men! Do you know how hard it is to have FUN when you never know where you stand with someone? When they swing wildly from hot to cold to hot to cold?

I know a lot of you are married, and have been for 10 or 15 years by now, so maybe you never experienced this or don’t remember it. But today’s dating environment is exhausting... 

Someone might text and FaceTime you every day for weeks, and you think you have this great connection. 

Then after a month or so, they tell you they just want to keep things casual and date around.  

But then they talk to you about fun trips they want to take with you and movie lists they’ve created for you to watch together, and you feel good. 

Then when you don’t hear from them for a few days, you remember, “Oh yeah. He said he wants to date around. I’m back at the bottom of the pile again.” 

Only then you go on an amazing date, and you think, “I’ll put in the time with this person, if they want to keep things casual. I would do that for them, they're worth it to me.” 

But then they tell you they’ll see you that weekend; and you don’t hear anything. 

I’m okay with not being someone’s Only One, you know? That’s natural at the start of relationships. It’s the hot and cold that I hate. I would so much rather just be lukewarm but steady at the beginning of a relationship. At least then, I know where I stand. It’s going from being someone’s first (and 50^th) text of the day, to days where they don’t talk to you at all and they forget they even said they'd see you. All I need is a text. Tell me you're thinking of me. Tell me you wish you could see me but you have work.

I guess if I really knew I mattered to someone, it would be different, you know? But as I told Stratski, when someone tells you, repeatedly, that they want to date other people, that they want to keep things casual and open, and THEN they cancel plans or quit texting you or no longer call you at night... then you know it's not because they're busy at work. They told you what they wanted and you weren't listening.

I guess I'm really sad today because I was so hopeful about meeting someone who was really different than all the other guys I'd dated. Weeks ago, I texted my friends: I met someone! It had been a long time since I last sent that text. 

I was excited when he talked about going to a Halloween party together or going to a winery sometime or visiting some churches together. I thought, "He actually wants to spend time with me!" And I kind of blossomed.

But then none of those things happened. He would say he'd try to see me that weekend, and I wouldn't hear from him until the following Tuesday. And resentment and insecurity would simmer as I swung between hoping he'd call because I really wanted to spend time with him, to frustration over my own inability to make other plans while I waited. It wasn't really his fault. He'd said he wanted casual and he was being casual.

My friend Stacey said, "He said he wanted casual. He would go days at a time without calling you. That's casual. Maybe YOU just didn't want casual." That is an extremely fair statement. I liked him and I wanted him to like me just as much.

At the end of the day, I wonder when I will stop being someone's afterthought?

I think the truth is, I would rather be alone than keep being that.

You're the Worst

I started watching this new show. It's not really new, it's just new to me, in my I-can't-afford-cable-lifestyle. I found it on Netflix. What I like about it is...
1.) the main character is a Brit
2.) it's a typical sitcom except for that the dialogue is LIT. And you'd almost miss it because you're so freaking enamored with the British guy's accent (Wait -- is that just me?). So you nearly miss it when he's talking with his roommate about the possibility of giving the girlfriend a key and he says:

Brit guy: A cozy world full of home-cooked meals and graceful weight fluctuation? 

Roommate: I'd live in that world. 

Brit guy: I honestly cannot sit there and pretend not to be horrified by things as unthought-out and unspecial as "Can I have a key," ruled by nothing more interesting than animal instinct to the point that I might as well be sleeping with a migratory bird or a leatherback sea turtle. 

Roommate: I'm gonna eat your frittata. 

Brit guy: "Can I have a key?" I'll tell you what... How can you see this sh1t happening and just smile and be okay with it? How do you look at the person you're with and not just know that there's another person inside who's boring and lame and will eventually ask for emotional support and to shop together for decorative sconces at Williams-Sonoma? How can you just ignore that sh1t? 

Roommate: I don't know. Because you like them, I guess.

Read more at: http://transcripts.foreverdreaming.org/viewtopic.php?f=418&t=20328&sid=8dcf59c1d5fb8d14216aa118b7850515

I love that roommate :-) As an Iraqi combat veteran, he's such a damaged romantic. Plus he looks shockingly like a guy I used to date, Derek. And Derek was a pretty standup guy, so I automatically love Edgar and all his pontifications.

But he's got a point, you know? The "graceful weight fluctuations" and "shopping for Williams-Sonoma sconces" may be a boring-as-hell part of relationships, but they're real. And you put up with them because "you like them, I guess." I suppose the hard part is finding someone you actually like and don't want to stab with a sconce. Even harder is finding someone who likes you back. I tend to attract the ones that flame out quickly.

I've had rather bad luck relationally speaking. Part of that is self-inflicted, naturally. Part is a product of growing up in an uber-conservative environment that -- I kid you not -- advocated allowing your parents to pick your future mate. And part is just due to the fickleness of human nature: by that I mean, things go from hot to cold abruptly, and from cold to dormant just as fast. Every time it happens it's hard, but hopefully with time and experience, it's easier to smile and move on more quickly. I think I put up with a lot less shit as I age :-) 

It's another year! I hope I can become a more positive person. And perhaps find someone it's actually not cringe-worthy to shop for sconces with.