Saturday, December 14, 2013

trust, vulnerability and jumping in, oh my!!!

today is beamer's birthday... after giving it a lot of thought and exchanging texts with several of my closest friends, i've decided not to contact him. instead, i posted a photo of me with fraser on my facebook timeline for the first time. beamer is not on facebook. fraser and i are not friends on it. only my closest friends will know the significance of my choice. of closing one door and opening another.

i will always remember beamer's birthday and only wish him love, happiness and success. introducing fraser into my social media circle today is my acknowledgement of the immense amount of growth and change in my heart, mind and soul... two months ago, i was sure i'd be posting a photo of beamer and me wishing him the happiest of birthdays. today, i've chosen to trust the path i'm on and the fact that fraser is very much a part of it. it's a far cry from questioning everything about/with him just a few weeks ago.

the truth is i'm happy. we laugh all the time and time passes quickly when we're together. i can hardly believe the lightness of my soul, the ease of my mind or the giddiness of my heart. it just feels right. there's no other way to describe it... i've asked myself all the questions over and over. am i really this happy? is this guy for real? does it feel right? are you sure? yes. yes. yes... yes. the only thing left to do is let go and trust that my heart, mind and soul know enough to recognize what's really happening.

i am falling.

or jumping... there's a vulnerability that i wasn't sure i'd be willing to put out there again. not after experiencing the reality of never having any guarantees in love, life or even shoes because no matter how much you give of yourself or how well you take care of people or things, sometimes it doesn't work out. sometimes you get your heart broken. sometimes your favorite shoes fall apart along with the rest of your life.

being vulnerable is the last thing you want put out there again when that happens. i resisted everything with fraser. despite all the time we spent together and how lovely it always was, i refused to admit we were dating. my friends shook their heads when i stumbled to find another word for boyfriend when i talked about him. i call you my girlfriend behind your back all day long. he's been patient, kind, understanding, fun. he makes me feel like the prettiest, loveliest, smartest girl in the world.

why not trust that? why not be vulnerable? why not jump?

because it could hurt, that's why... hmm, i can get hurt. that sucks but you know what would suck more? not trusting the incredible happiness i feel when i'm around him. not allowing myself to be vulnerable and missing out on something that could be really great. not jumping because of fear... besides, he's already met my dad.

so here i go.

again.



Sunday, December 1, 2013

grace, gratitude and going with the flow, oh my!!!

since i started working at a boutique spin and yoga studio in the spring, i've gotten back to spinning regularly and fallen in love with yoga. i hustle through spin and flow in yoga almost every day there. spinning pushes my physical endurance. i often yell obscenities as i add on more and more resistance while maintaining the same pace on the bike. it is hard. i'm normally sweaty five minutes into the forty-five minute ride and completely soaked by the end. it's aggressive, fast, unforgiving. breathlessness happens in spin... then i take yoga, which quiets my mind and centers my soul. i focus on my breath and flow in and out of poses with as much grace as my physical abilities allow. i've surprised myself by shedding tears during yoga more than once. yoga is hard in a different way. it cleanses my heart and reminds me of humility and my own strength. awareness of breath happens in yoga.

hustling and flowing has saved me from myself this past year. not only did working out give me something to do, it allowed my mind, body and soul to escape into a space that fosters a community based on love, encouragement and support. i'm not kidding. the studio i work at is full of beautiful, amazing women (and some good looking men, sure) who are there to either hustle and/or flow their way into leaner bodies and connect to their core... whether on a bike or a mat, i feel like i belong with them for the hour or so we spend together. some people are more experienced, more skilled, more graceful than the rest of us, which gives me something to work towards, to look forward to.

grace has never been my strong suit. while i can learn steps and execute choreographed routines, i was never a graceful dancer be it hula, tahitian, jazz, modern or (yikes!) ballet. to be fair, i didn't take dance classes until college and being graceful was the last thing i worried about as i tried to keep up. i love to dance but a dancer i am not. i like to pretend i am one though and twirl around in my apartment with my dancer roommate all the time like we're both ballerinas performing pieces set to 80s dance music. it's fun and we laugh breathlessly at our silliness. we're loud. yup. i laugh a lot and out loud. not exactly graceful but there's nothing better than a hearty laugh... or a good cry, which isn't socially graceful for some reason. there's no denying i'm a total klutz. i am constantly running into furniture, plants or whatever else jumps in front of me; i have scratches and bruises from these surprise attacks.

what i do try to be graceful about is the way i treat people, especially those i love. even when asked to be completely honest, i do so without being harsh whenever possible. i'm competitive but am neither a sore loser or a rub-it-in-your-face winner. losing sucks. winning is enough... it's been a year since beamer and i broke up now. we lived together for another three months after the fact. the morning i decided to move out followed one of the most ungraceful nights of my life. i will only say that i do not talk that way to people i love and knew it was time to go before i lost anymore of myself. graceful is how many of my friends describe how i handled our breakup. the fact that i didn't (and still don't) talk badly about him or announce our breakup on social media wasn't about being graceful, it was about treating what we once had with respect, compassion and gratitude.

every night before i go to sleep, i thank god, the universe or whoever is in charge for all the blessings, all the good things, all the lessons i encountered that day. most days, i readily come up with things to be thankful for: an especially challenging and, therefore, rewarding spin class, a yummy yoga flow, hearing from my mom, having lunch with a friend, kicking ass at an audition, unexpectedly getting a residual check, a two hour massage, blue skies, witnessing kindness between strangers, getting a voicemail from one of my nieces and/or nephews, getting a free carwash because it rained, the courage to say no to something i have no interest in doing... when i have a bad day, i give thanks for my loving family, my incredible friends, the fact that i have everything i need, not having to shave my legs, being happy, healthy and pretty... maybe it's cheesy or hippie or much too cosmic but it works.

giving gratitude for what you already have invites god, the universe or whoever is in charge to keep sending you people, experiences and seemingly random situations to be grateful for. even if it doesn't work that way, you've painlessly made yourself aware of how good you really have it... those sleepless nights when i first moved out were opportunities for me to really appreciate the people in my life. i named every family member and close friend in gratitude for being in my corner those first few months. i knew i wasn't alone as i faced the loneliness of sleeping solo for the first time in nearly a decade even as my heart seemingly stopped beating every now and then. i was incapable of seeing anything else to be grateful for at that point but acknowledging my gratitude helped my heart heal. it didn't just happen. i worked at it.

spontaneity is not something i'm good at. i like having a schedule and knowing what i need to get done and by when. it's the only way i can manage my time well... dating has been interesting because i don't play games. i don't respond to people i have no interest in meeting (unless they talk football; i always reply to those messages) and am happy to meet someone for coffee when they ask because compatibility percentages mean nothing if you don't hit it off in person. my online dating experience has been really positive. in fact, i recently disabled my profile because i've been seeing someone exclusively for several weeks now. this is where going with the flow comes in because i am beyond afraid of putting my heart out there again.

i don't even know where to start... we met online and exchanged messages for a few days before he asked to meet me in person. i agreed to dinner our first time out because our schedules did not allow for an afternoon date that week. he threw a bomb at me five minutes into our first date and has been fearlessly vulnerable and open with me since. i have, in turn, been as honest as i can be about my inability to do the same. due to personal circumstances on my end and his willingness to keep driving to my side of town, we've spent a lot of time together and have somehow stopped seeing other people. there's a sense of comfort between us. we laugh a lot... trust me. i tried to slow it down by refusing to admit i felt any of the things he said he was feeling and attempting to set up dates with other people that somehow never worked out. when i started introducing him to my friends, i knew i was in trouble. then i told my sisters about him. done... i'm finally more excited than scared about whatever it is we're doing (we're not defining it though he'll readily tell you it doesn't matter because it doesn't change anything for him), but i still find myself grasping for the safety of not going anywhere. of not falling.

every single one of my friends has told me to let go. to go with the flow. to enjoy the ride... so i am. it's not graceful (i've already freaked out on him more than once) but i am grateful. i didn't realize how unworthy i felt with beamer towards the end of our relationship but, no matter how you try to sugarcoat it, he chose not to marry me. his decision may not have anything to do with me as a person but it effected me deeply nonetheless... fraser makes me feel pretty and smart and worthy without an agenda. i feel like myself around him and not the scared, insecure, self-sabotaging version who comes out intent on protecting my heart. i get to be my normal fun-loving, always laughing, fearlessly badass, totally nerdy, happy self again. it's nice. he's sweet... i don't know what will happen a week, three days, four hours from now but going with the flow feels right in this moment.

so yeah. i'll just call him fraser, hustle and flow through breathlessness, grace and gratitude in spin and yoga, and call it a day.


Sunday, November 10, 2013

sixteen, twenty-six and thirty-six, ah!!!

i started seven different blogs last month. it was my birthday month and there was a lot going on in my head but none of it felt inspired once i began writing them. while i felt incredibly loved as friends celebrated my birthday all month long with lunch, coffee and dinner dates, there was an tug of sadness in my heart and i didn't want to admit it. i wanted to write about the past year as one of change and transformation because it really was that... but it was also a year that broke me so completely that i find myself struggling to find the courage to be vulnerable again. i have become the girl i never wanted to be. while jaded seems a bit harsh, it's definitely along those lines. unfortunately.

i'm scared of... not finding the dude or, worse, finding him and getting my heart broken again. fooling myself into believing i have control over anything. not having any control. falling in love. not falling in love. opening up to the wrong person. not allowing myself to open up to the right one. trying too hard. not trying hard enough. losing balance. losing parts of my myself again. not having enough time. wasting it. doing the wrong thing. not doing anything... everything. i'm scared of everything.

everything i wrote last month felt contrived because i didn't want to share my fears. i have so much love and support and have worked hard over the past year to be present and thankful and appreciative for all of it. and i truly am... but, if i'm to be completely truthful, i have to write about the fears that accompany turning another year older no matter how i try to mask it. twentieth anniversary of my sweet sixteen, anyone?

i was sixteen when lint and i started dating. so much has happened in the twenty years since then. i've grown up a lot but am still the same girl with the big dreams and an even bigger heart. i'm a nurturer. i have a tendency to take care of other people before myself. only recently did i start to really put myself first, something that you really must do if you are to nurture anyone else. i don't have kids (yet!), so i don't know what being a mother is like, but i do know that not taking care of yourself will eventually leave you feeling empty and resentful. that part i know... i fear falling back into that with someone new.

i was twenty-six when beamer and i began what would become a nine year relationship. he sent me a text wishing me a happy birthday the day after the fact and i almost cancelled a dinner date i had planned. it was nice of him to remember and acknowledge it (beamer is not good with dates) but it may have been easier not to hear from him. not better. easier... i responded with a quick thank you and pressed send before i could start telling him all about the night before when i celebrated with a group friends; i wanted to share every detail with him... hearing from him no longer feels like someone decided to sit on my heart but it still stops for a second and i have to actively talk myself out of being sad.

no matter how good i feel about the progress and transformation i've made both emotionally and physically in less than a year, the fact that beamer could not bring himself to marry me continues to nag the back of my mind and stab parts of my heart... i don't think he'll ever figure it out nor do i hope he ever does because i'm not sure what that would mean for me after all this time. these are facts that only my body can feel. these are facts only my heart and mind can counter with as much grace and kindness and love that i can muster for myself. sometimes not a lot... i fear that i will forever be nagged and stabbed by this.

i'm thirty-six now and no closer to figuring out how this whole falling in love thing is supposed to happen. i've always been a jump-right-in kind of girl and being cautious is new to me. there's a desperate desire for me to feel safe, to protect my once free-loving heart, but i know that's not the way to go even as i subconsciously, purposefully build walls around my still mending heart. it seems unfair to whoever i start a relationship with for me to hold back, but that's exactly what i'm doing. even as one of the guys i've been seeing has clearly peaked my interest more than the others, i find myself planning dates with other people. it feels safer not to focus on just one. i've already done that. for nine years.

it's a battle within. my optimistic, openminded, outgoing self is weakened and fighting a much stronger afraid-to-be-vulnerable, still-nursing-a-broken-heart version of me. i'm rooting for the former but the latter is easier to live as... i realize i'll have to forgo easy and jump in again if i'm to even have a shot at what i eventually want in my life. for now though, i have to settle for being present exactly where i am and not judging every choice i make.

all i can do is be honest and kind and loving to the thirty-six year old woman looking back at me in the mirror and reassure her that she's exactly where she needs to be... for now.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

fairy tales and real life and finding balance, oh my!

when i was little, i used to think little mice in tiny shirts and cute hats went into my closet and altered my clothes to be smaller. i'd seen how they'd made a beautiful blue gown for cinderella to wear to the ball and was confused why they'd chosen to shrink my stuff... i now know there were no mice after all; i was simply growing out of my clothes. of course, it's more fun to think that these friendly mice are responsible for my too tight jeans instead of the fact that i've gone out to eat with friends several times in the past few weeks or eaten cupcakes everyday or accidentally shrunk them in the dryer myself.

honestly, i wish my mice friends were in my closet altering my jeans a size or two smaller these days. i started working at an amazing boutique spin and yoga studio five months ago and, over the past three months, have made it a habit to take spin followed by yoga five or six days a week (yes, 10-12 classes a week). i still eat normally. cupcakes, potato chips and chocolate are very much a part of my diet but so are kale, quinoa and bananas. it's a balancing act. working out a lot means i'm hungry a lot, so i eat often and drink a lot of water... i don't think i've lost weight but i'm definitely leaner, so my clothes fit looser. thus, my need for my fairy tale mice; i really don't want to give up my collection of jeans.

as adorable and helpful as they are though, the mice have never been my favorite part of cinderella. it was the love story. the romance. i'd be lying if i said prince charming didn't make my heart melt. even as a wee little girl, i found him incredibly handsome and absolutely perfect. (thanks, disney, for turning me into a white boy kind of girl; growing up in wisconsin didn't help either.) i grew up with an image of an incredibly handsome, absolutely perfect man who would fall in love with me at first sight, pursue me with only my glass slipper to go on, marry me in front of the entire kingdom and have a castle for us to live in happily ever after. that's a fairy tale for you.

real life is... different. the incredibly handsome man is either gay or emotionally unavailable or, hard to believe (i know), just not interested, and the absolutely perfect man is your friend, one you're not attracted to or you're attracted to but he's married to someone else or, let's be honest, he's gay. i am surrounded by a variety of these men, none of whom i can feasibly date seriously much less marry... i enjoy their company, adore their humor and, in some cases, truly love them as friends.

i had dinner with fratboy the other night. we'd gone to college together and always had an unspoken attraction to one another. we were dating other people back then and neither of us is the cheating type, so nothing ever happened. over the past thirteen years, we've kept in touch going as far as making a pact to marry each other if we were both single at forty. around his thirtieth birthday, he asked me to marry him, to move our pact to thirty instead of forty. i was with beamer and gently declined... fratboy dated here and there, asking me to marry him once (twice?) more before eventually getting engaged to his ex-fiancee around the time i left beamer almost four years ago now. beamer and i got back together; they broke off their engagement soon after.

we went to our ten year college reunion together three years ago; he flew in from new york and i from la. he rented a car and we drove to the place we met; we shared a hotel room with two queen sized beds. beamer and i were living together at that point; fratboy had just started dating his now wife. nothing happened beyond the campus tours, football game, drinks with friends and all the meals we shared together; again, neither of us is the cheating type... fast forward to six weeks ago when we recently met up for dinner (he's in la for work every six weeks or so):

fratboy: i can't believe he let you go.
me: yup. i'm single... and you're married.
fratboy: (shaking his head) i didn't think you'd be single again.
me: yeah. me, too.

that's real life. fratboy thinks... no. he knows i'm amazing and wants the same things i do. he's also married... to someone i've never met and may never meet... the truth is, fratboy and i have fairy tale ideas about each other. while we've been honest in our conversations over the years and have a solid friendship, neither of us really knows how we are in our everyday lives because we've never lived together. he's never seen me sick or dealt with me when i'm hungry; i have no idea what he's like after a bad day at work or what he smells like after a night out with his friends. (also, he's a bears fan so it would never work.) we love each other without the complications of dating. that ship sailed thirteen years ago.

don't get me wrong, i have a rom-com worthy fairy tale ending with fratboy in the back of my mind. there were epic ones with beamer for a long time. the one with handyman is particularly romantic and the most unrealistic. why i even bother, i do not know... i subconsciously create these impeccably scripted boy-realizes-he-can't-live-without-girl (me!!!) scenes despite the reality that is my life. i'm not sure if it's normal and i really don't care. that's just where my mind goes. sometimes i fool myself into believing these fantasies can actually happen (yes, i am that confident some days). thankfully, i'm not entirely delusional and can tear myself away from my perfectly imagined situations.

i find balance.

fairy tales always end with happily ever after. i've wondered what that must be like and have decided it would probably get boring after awhile. there are only so many balls you can attend in a gorgeous gown with your handsome husband before you decide a night in your pajamas with your girlfriends, pizzas and ice cream is exactly what you need to center yourself. to find balance... or maybe you just want to stay home with a good book; it's a lot of work to get ready for a ball or even a party... romantic gestures are great but to deal with being romanced all the time would be annoying. i can't imagine being romanced while i'm watching my packers play or am sick with the flu; i'd just want to watch the game or take a nap.

real life gets messy... i prefer messy over perfect though. perfection is a facade. it's not real and i want real. i don't need to meet someone at a ball and fall in love at first sight, but i do need him to really see me and love me beyond the initial attraction. i don't need a handsome prince to sweep me off my feet into his castle, but i do need him to be supportive and treat me as an equal. a partner through whatever life throws our way. i don't need him to save me from an evil stepmother or a witch or a dragon, but i do need him to accept me and treat me with kindness, generosity and compassion. i also need him to make me laugh and marry me, not necessarily in front of a kingdom. a beach somewhere tropical will do but...

the shoes i'll take.




Sunday, September 1, 2013

choices and control and combing my hair, oh my!

for the past few months, i've been on a mission to abandon hope and expectation. it sounds harsh because it is. after all, hope is sometimes all you have... but in order to free myself from the idea, the expectation, that beamer and i would somehow, magically work out our core differences, i had to let go of hope. it wasn't easy. isn't easy.

less than a year ago, the idea of letting go of anything in my familiar, comfortable life wasn't even a part of my reality. i led an easy, happy life with a man who provided me with love, laughter and financial support; he also left me longing for marriage and children as i watched everyone else in my life get married and have babies. let me be clear here. my desire to tie the knot and be a mother may have been ingrained in me from childhood but it's something that i really want as an adult. the idea of not being a mother someday breaks my heart. it has nothing to do with what everyone else in my world is doing or how i was raised, i'm simply meant to be a mother and, while i'm by no means old-fashioned, i want a partner to share that adventure with.

i love you so much but, if i have to choose between you and having children with someone else, i choose them. 

i made my choice and left beamer with a heavy, broken heart. i questioned my choice to do so every day. every hour. every minute those first few weeks. it consumed me and i was grateful to start teaching again soon after i moved out. every morning last semester, i made a choice to get out of bed and do my job. there were so many days i cried and screamed in my car on the way to school before forcing myself, choosing, to pull it together to run the show. i left all of my questions, uncertainties and insecurities in my car and chose to be present in a room full of teenagers and company members every day.

after our twelve week program, i apologized to my executive director for being all over the place and not being as on top of things as i normally am. he was surprised i felt the way i did. apparently, in choosing to pause the madness in my head for even just the few hours i taught every day, the show did go on. successfully. while our company members knew about my situation, they steered clear of talking to me about it unless i said something first. they chose to be gently supportive, which i needed desperately. working with an amazing group of artists and talented teenagers, difficult as they may sometimes be, saved my sanity.

the choice is always ours to get up for that spin class, take yoga after, smile at people, meet up with your friends, go on a date, be kind to ourselves... i made a choice to see beamer three weeks ago. we had lunch at a place we frequented as a couple. it had been five months since we last laid eyes on each other and it felt good to sit across from him and catch up a bit. we were at ease with each other, talking like only longtime friends can. there was no anger or resentment or blame but, even as we laughed, there was sadness. it felt different. something had changed and i soon realized it was me. my heart felt free from guilt and frustration at the fact that we didn't workout. apparently, love doesn't conquer all when you make the choice to love yourself first.

while the choice is always yours (and you should take responsibility for the ones you make), control is not and thinking that you have any control over what happens in the world or how people act or even your own feelings will eventually drive you crazy... if it hasn't already. i've learned over the past few months that the only thing i really have control over are the choices i make in deciding what to do about or how to react to what life throws my way.

i had my life planned out when i was ten: i was going to spend a year as miss america, go to med school, become a doctor, get married and have babies years before i turned thirty. almost six years past my dirty thirty, i'm an actress living in la, running a privately funded non-profit and doing other odd jobs, with a roommate on the westside and very much single. nothing like i planned but exactly how it needs to be... if i ran for miss america now, i would kick ass in the interviews and have a real chance at winning the crown simply because i know myself so much better at 35 than i did at 20; i have hard earned wisdom that no twenty something young woman has. i certainly didn't when i was vying for the title of miss wisconsin all those years ago. i had no control over that.

i chose to drop my pre-med major and tell my parents i didn't want to be a doctor after my first semester in college; i had no control over the fact that my passion was in performing, not dissecting things and learning formulas. i've clearly made choices that's led me to being single again; no control over anyone else's choices. i've chosen to surround myself with only good people because i know i cannot control crazy be it my own or someone else's... every day, i'm faced with infinite choices and no control so, whenever possible, i choose love over hate, courage over fear, compassion over judgement. i fail some days because, even though i recognize that life isn't fair, it pisses me off that not everyone is given a real shot at it. sometimes, i want control over something and it drives me illogically crazy that i don't.

a few years ago, i came into work and everyone marveled at how pretty my hair looked. i was embarrassed to admit that i had just combed it after taking a shower. i hadn't combed my hair in a decade; i'd just been running my fingers through it. i didn't realize it made such a huge difference when i took the time to comb it. one whole minute... i now comb my hair whenever i wash it. a choice made to make myself slightly more presentable. i have no control over how my hair will be on any given day though whether i comb it or not. it just is and i'm okay with that unless i have an audition or feeling particularly unattractive or unhappy, in which case i put on some makeup and maybe even blow dry my hair choosing to present myself differently to the world for my own benefit.

combing your hair and putting on makeup is easy. controlling how you feel or how the world perceives you on any given day is impossible. your best bet is to make the choice that feels right and not expect anything. you may change your mind the next day, week, year... allow yourself that choice. i wanted to make it work with beamer so badly that i spent another three years choosing to be with him until i didn't want to, couldn't, anymore... i have no idea what the future holds for me. all i know is, i wanted a different result, so i made a different choice. it's really that simple. it's not easy nor is it comfortable, but it is simple.

i chose me.




Monday, August 19, 2013

kindness and generosity and laughter, oh my!

i'm taking a break from writing about boys and am dedicating this blog to a man. the man. it's my dad's birthday month, so why not?

it's no secret that i'm the black sheep of my family. i was the boy-crazy middle daughter, who has broken my father's heart more than once. i am not proud of this. i don't think it's cool... i've made many mistakes in my life and breaking my dad's heart will always be on the very top of that list.

growing up, my biggest fear was disappointing my parents. they had given up everything they knew and loved to give their children a better life halfway across the globe. i prided myself on getting good grades and not getting into trouble. that changed when i started really liking boys... man, boys really are trouble. i'll never forget my dad telling us how people in our hometown would tease him about having three daughters as he walked around with us. that's what you get for all the trouble you caused. all the hearts you broke. three daughters. we were karma personified.

here's the thing. making mistakes is a part of life. no matter how many people tell you something is not a good idea, you will feel compelled to find out for yourself. and you should. you cannot live your life afraid of making mistakes based on other people's experiences. you have to make your own choices. live your own life... i know i have. living my life authentically has led me to wonderful experiences and excruciating heartache. the numerous times i've admitted to making bad choices to my dad, he's always looked passed my shame, embarrassment and heartbreak and said nothing. not a justifiable i told you so or a blaming that's what you get. he just looks at me and understands; if he's disappointed in me, he doesn't show it.

there is no kindness in the world like the kindness in my father's eyes when my decisions haven't turned out the way i thought, intended or hoped it would. he looks at me. sees me. loves me. he says everything without saying a word. i know, without a doubt, that i there is nothing i can do in this life that would take his kindness away from me and that fact alone makes me braver, bolder, better.

my dad is the kind of man who would give you the shirt off his back; he is literally generous to a fault, often giving more than he has. one of my more vivid memories growing up is my dad buying all the neighborhood kids ice cream when my sisters and i wanted some; the ice cream man loved him. the kids loved him. everyone loved him. loves him... and why wouldn't they? he tells the best stories, cooks the best filipino dishes you'll ever taste and treats everyone he meets like his best friend. my dad is generous with his time, kindness and attention; he raised us to be compassionate because not everyone is as lucky as we are. not everyone has the same opportunities. 

generosity can be tricky though. when is it enough? is there such thing as too much? i think so. there's a fine line between being generous and giving too much of yourself. i've crossed this line and have struggled to find the right balance for me. i'm not one to keep score but i believe in the idea of giving and taking and visa versa. when i do something for someone, i expect a thank you. it doesn't have to be a big deal. it shouldn't be a big deal but you should acknowledge that someone opened the door for you, treated you to coffee, sent you to college. though it often does, generosity does not have to involve money; the most generous gifts i've received in my life haven't been bought.

laughter is one of those treasures. my dad is hilarious. he has stories for days; his enthusiasm is infectious, especially when he attempts to share them in english. his laughter fills any room with warmth and joy; i challenge anybody not to laugh with my dad when he's in his zone. friends i grew up with remember my dad's tall tale stories and his laughter. when i feel overwhelmed or have a problem to work through, my dad tells me to laugh it off. problems? what problems? laugh at it. it can't hurt you. 

that's the thing. sometimes it does hurt me and no matter what i do, i end up crying instead. there's no stopping the tears when you're vulnerable and feel utterly alone. the more you try to reign it in, the more it comes. it just happened to me today. i literally sobbed through the last third of my yoga practice. twenty minutes of non-stop tears. it took me by surprise and i was a little embarrassed by it. thankfully, i was in a room full of people who understand that being vulnerable is not something to shy away from but celebrated. out in the lobby, i joked and laughed about the experience knowing that i'm cared for and supported by the people around me.

i will always laugh because, no matter what happens, my dad will remind me to do so. he'll tell  me one of his many stories with a grin he can hardly hide, and i'll laugh. i'll laugh because my dad is awesome and just talking to him makes me happy; i'll laugh because i like the way i feel when i'm laughing. i laugh often and loudly. my dad will be celebrating his birthday on sunday; i'm sure we'll be laughing over the phone then. how lucky am i to have been raised by a man who values kindness, generosity and laughter most in life? very lucky. i know. i feel abundant, loved and vibrant  because i know what's important.

thanks, dad. i love you.



Monday, August 5, 2013

coffee dates and non-dates and friend dates, oh my!

i've kissed some boys. yes. boys... with an s. 

i'm putting my serial monogamist self on time out. at least i'm trying to... just for a bit.

hear me out. it's been almost a decade since i was last single, and bells, my wiser, more serious younger sister, along with most of my girlfriends, insist that i have a little fun. it's the first time in my adult life that i've been single after all. and let's be honest, six months of my samantha phase is not nearly enough. don't get me wrong. i am not about to do that craziness again. i don't think... whatever the case, i plan on living it up, loving every minute of it and laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

let's start with online dating. here's my profile (omg!):

my self summary - i love football. not college. nfl. grew up in wisconsin, so i'm a cheesehead. you don't have to be a packer fan but you should be okay with my team beating yours =) i have a lot of friends and am super close to my family. i adore my nieces and nephews. i love to laugh and do it often. i'm an actress. you should know that.
what i'm doing with my life - i'm pursuing my dream and doing my part to make the world a better place than i found it by running a privately funded non-profit. i work with teenagers. they're challenging but also really great.
i'm really good at - being myself and making people feel comfortable. comes from my dad, who's awesome.
favorite books, shows, movies, music, food - i read the harry potter series in 46 days. i got addicted. it's hard to put down a good book... i love to eat and ask that you do not judge me based on my musical taste, which is shallow. i am not shallow.
the first thing people notice about me - my smile or my ass depending on whether i'm coming or going.
i spend a lot of time thinking about - love. life. my nieces and nephews. what I want to eat.
six things i could never live without - love, passion, kindness, laughter, friendship, generosity... not necessarily in that order
the most private thing i'm willing to admit - I've never been cool.
you should message me if - i'm sort of a white boy kind of girl. also like them tall with nice smiles... you have to be able to make me laugh. super important. if you can cook, that's awesome. nfl fans are a plus.

those of you who date online know exactly which site i'm on. it's free and a good way to see what it's all about. (honestly, i'm a little afraid of match and eharmony because i feel like some dude is gonna propose on the first few dates and i am just not ready for that. for now.) i've gone on a handful of coffee dates off this site. the first one tried to hold my hand and kiss me. (wtf?) the second was super sweet and gave me flowers. i went on a lunch date with him (more flowers) but didn't see it going anywhere. let's be honest, if i don't want to kiss you after a second date, it's not gonna happen. i'm always thankful for the date and super sweet as i kindly decline a third date. no need to waste anyone's time, you know?

i did eventually agree to a third date, mostly because boston made me laugh. he took me out for sushi, one of my favorites. i didn't talk much because he had a lot to say. he kissed me goodnight. it was nice. i saw him a fourth time and wasn't really into it. when i gently declined his offer for another date, he told me to piss off. thankfully, it was via text. exactly why i don't give out my number. lesson learned... i'll continue coffee dating regardless; i look at it as practice for actual dates while enjoying one of my favorite beverages and hopefully having an interesting conversation with a stranger.

in the meantime, i've gone on non-dates: drinks with someone i like but know is trouble and dinner with a friend i've always had a crush on. (yup. really writing this.)

i'll start with handyman, who i started messaging with innocently enough a few weeks ago. he made me laugh and was alternately sweet and umm... dirty. he took me out for a drink and i turned into a fifteen year old who didn't know what to do with herself at his place. i showed up a few days later determined to redeem myself. we had fun; he has abs that i've only ever seen in advertisements and movies (i totally get how emma stone's character felt in "crazy stupid love"). it's almost not fair. who can say no to abs like that? (not me either!) handyman made it very clear that fun is all it will ever be; i agreed. i've been here before, ten years ago, and what i've learned is this: when a man tells you dating is off the table, you have to believe him. no matter how nice he is to you, how much he makes you laugh and how comfortable you are around him, it's not going to happen. ever... but you can enjoy him for awhile. and with those abs? why not? no one will blame you.

now, smoker. we've been friends for a few years and i admire his work. there's something sexy about someone who's good at their craft (i saw alicia keys in concert a few months ago; i had no idea how sexy she was until then. wow!). i'm pretty sure the crush is mutual though he won't admit to it. regardless, we had dinner (something we've been doing for years now) and i kissed him (never happened before) after just to see what it would be like... it was good, which surprised me because he smokes (duh?) and i was sure i would taste it. i didn't (yey!). he recently started seeing someone, so clearly this is a no go and i'm totally fine with that. in fact, i want him to keep dating her and told him not to fall in love with me. i like kissing him and i'll keep kissing him as long as he lets me, but, at the end of the day, smoker is my friend and i don't want to mess with that... if i haven't already.

without question, the best kind of dates i've been on these past few months have been with my incredibly supportive, loving, wonderful friends. whether it's dinner out with super team, bikes and hikes with my wingwomen, dinner in with my hula girls, coffee/tea with designer or another girlfriend, theater with playwright or twirling in our living room before/after dinner and a movie with my roommate, i always have a great time eating, laughing and catching up with them. not only do i not know what i would do without their love and humor, my life would be boring and not very fun. i learned the hard way back in college that you need to make time for your friends whether you're in a relationship or not... especially when you're in one.

these friends are the ones who listen to you obsess over your breakup, your makeup, your crushes. they share war stories when you think you've done irreparable damage at work, in love, in life. when you don't feel human, they make sure you see what they see when they look at you, a strong, beautiful, loving, amazing woman with a heart you can see from a mile away, until you believe it and feel like yourself again... these same friends encourage you to have fun with all this and gently remind you to keep yourself open for the possibility of the real deal because they know you. they understand and support your choices, right, wrong or otherwise, as long as you're being true to yourself... something i've been working on and getting better at everyday.

i know what i want and what i deserve. i may have some fun now, but i won't settle for anything less than i know i'm worth... take it. leave it. whatever.





Tuesday, July 30, 2013

forgiveness, fearlessness and football, oh my!

when my friends and family suggested that i start a blog, my main concern was not having a theme. i have, however, made some big changes in my life recently that could be interesting but still no through line... and then it hit me. not having a theme, per se, is totally my life. it may be a little bipolar but it's honest and real. with that in mind, i am tackling three very different realities of my life these days: forgiveness, fearlessness and football.

according to books and articles i've read these past few months, forgiveness is a big part of moving forward and letting go. beamer asked me to forgive him the last time we saw each other. i explained that i didn't think that there was anything to forgive, we were both in the relationship after all, but told him that i forgave him because he needed to hear it.

life is not always pretty. things happen. you snap at one of your girlfriends because a text from a guy threw you off. you forget to pick up a friend from lax because your phone died in the middle of the night. you realize things aren't going to change nine years in... you take responsibility, say you're sorry and ask for forgiveness. you move on, still great friends. you forgive yourself.

i take full responsibility for my decision to go back to beamer and spend three more years with him. ending our relationship was devastatingly sad and disappointing for both of us. pointing fingers and holding on to anger won't do anything but make us both more miserable. don't get me wrong, there was anger, rage even, but why hang on to that? we spent nine good years together, so when we do talk to each other, we focus on being kind, supportive and loving towards each other. we can only do that because of forgiveness.

my life has changed dramatically in less than a year because of choices i've made. i quit my job waiting tables after twelve years and broke off my nine year relationship with beamer days later. i didn't officially move out for another three months and have since been trying to live up to the fearlessness of those choices. it's scary to leave a job you know like the back of your hand; scarier to leave a man who's loved you, flaws and all, for almost a decade... but, sometimes, you just have to.

i'm now trying to summon that fearlessness as i attempt dating again. after nearly a decade in a relationship, the idea of going on a date was beyond surreal to me but i eventually started a profile on an online dating site (i know!). you have to be fearless to put yourself out there and meet a complete stranger. even more so to refuse another date when you're just not interested... it's scary, but i'm fearless in my belief that there's someone out there who wants the same things i do and will find me as amazing as i find him.

and when he does show up, i really hope he likes the nfl because i am a cheesehead. what can i say? i grew up in wisconsin... i'm the girl who plays fantasy football, owns a dozen jerseys (rodgers in every color), and will happily spend sundays with friends watching football all day trash talking with other fans. i love the nfl network and sportscenter, especially during football season. when my packers won the superbowl in 2010, i watched all the looped coverage of the game and post game celebrations and interviews for as long as they aired it. a week or so maybe, and it still wasn't enough.

football is fast, furious and fun to watch. there's something sexy in the athleticism and strategy of the game. i love watching men play with so much heart until the very last second. the passion in their eyes is simultaneously inspiring and frightening. they are fearless... or at least they pretend to be. and why not? sometimes you have to fake it until you make it. i've certainly put on that cloak of fearlessness or painted it on my face whenever i've felt vulnerable, and i'll keep doing it until that fearlessness becomes real... the way it was when i was ten. until then, i will forgive myself for whatever shortcoming i may have and treat myself as kindly as i would treat my closest friend.




Saturday, July 20, 2013

three years and five years and nine years, oh my!

i am a serial monogamist.

one high school boyfriend. three years.
i was a sophomore. lint was a senior.
he cheated. i bailed... or he did. i don't remember.

one boy the summer between high school and college.
we were in the same class. tiny was the sweetest.
he broke up with me over the phone the first week of college.
not exactly a fun start to my collegiate years; he was right to do it.

one college boyfriend. five years.
golfer was a year behind me.
we had that crazy relationship only justifiable by the fact that we were in our early 20s.
he broke up with me a year after moving to la to be with me.
my heart broke into a million pieces; it was the best thing he could have done for both of us.

six months of what i can only describe as my "samantha" phase.
i was bold, spontaneous and absolutely ridiculous.
it was a lot of fun. i got bored quickly.
no one refused my advances.
there was no challenge.
i decided to date again.

one big adult relationship. nine years.
beamer was nine years older.
he knew what i would say or do before i did. he was a challenge.
i left two years in because he couldn't tell me he loved me. he did.
i left four years later because he wasn't ready to marry me. he promised he would.
i blinked and was three years older with no ring on my finger. he really wasn't ready.
i moved out knowing that i couldn't live with myself if i stayed.

that was six months ago.
beamer and i have seen each other once since then.
we were both devastated by it but, ultimately, it was the right thing to do.
i still get sad, sometimes angry, about it, but it is what it is.
we didn't want the same thing and that's okay.
sometimes you just have to let love go. let everything fall apart.
it sucks and it hurts and it makes you want to crawl into a hole. you cry.
then you get up, dust yourself off and look ahead. you breathe.


how's that for an introduction? welcome to my blog, lovelies. xo