How to Fall Out of Love

Posted on by stilllearning2b
love divorce fall out

Sometimes I wish everything was as direct and straightforward as teaching algebra. Where every concept begins with a clear definition, which can then be followed by a specific series of steps that, when followed correctly, will always lead to the desired solution.

But life is not as direct and straightforward as algebra.

Especially when it comes to love.

Poets, philosophers, clergymen, psychologists and even scientists have wrangled with its definition for millennia, yet no consensus has been reached. Most of us have experienced being in love, yet all struggle to assign words to the experience.

Even with the nebulous nature of love, I think we all agree that it feels overwhelming amazing while it’s growing, comforting and supportive once established

and unbelievably agonizing and distressing when it ends.

This is especially acute when the ending is unwanted. And the rejection absolute and sudden.

When you still love the one that no longer loves you.

—–

We speak of the beginning of love as falling, as though we have no control once we’re within the field of the gravitational force of attraction. The coming together seen as inevitable.

Which means falling out of love is working against that gravitational pull. A slow and deliberate climb away from the influence of the attraction.

And much like gravity, its effect lessens as you move further away. But those first few steps are tortuous.

Even though love cannot be defined, it can be broken down into some of its constituent parts. And even though love has no formula, there are ways to address each step along the road out of love.

—–

When you’re in love, you have companionship. Your “Netflix and chill” partner lives in the same home. You know how you’ll spend your evenings and you know who will sit across the dinner table from you. You probably spend less time with others than before you married as your spouse naturally becomes your primary social contact.

To fall out of love, fill the voids in your life. I liken the feeling of being alone post-divorce to sitting in a cold and empty bathtub after a bathing companion has left. When the cold porcelain is chilling your bones, you turn back on the water. When you face the void at the end of a marriage, seek to fill the voids in your life. Was Thursday night pizza night in your home? Sign up for a class to keep you occupied on that night. Buy more pillows to occupy the now-empty space in your bed. Instead of staying at home, replace date night with  “reconnect with friends” night. Wherever there is a void, find something to put in its place.

When you’re in love, you have a sense of being known and accepted. One of most driving needs of all of us is a desire to be seen, understood and loved as we are. And that’s one of the most magical parts of love – we can be our imperfect, messy selves and still feel as though we are honored and respected. Our partner is the one who knows our greatest fears and our biggest dreams. They can anticipate our needs and know just how to cultivate a smile.

To fall out of love, focus on getting to know yourself again. It’s easy to fall into the trap of expecting that your spouse will make you happy. As a result, you may have lost touch with yourself – your needs, your desires and perhaps most importantly, how to take care of yourself. Court yourself. Get to know yourself. Fall in love with yourself.

When you’re in love, you have somebody you can count on. There’s a comfort in having a name and number to enter in your “emergency contacts.” It’s nice to know that somebody can pick up the Advil when you’re sick and the slack when you’re busy. Your spouse easily becomes your primary support structure. Always there with your back.

To fall out of love, build and nurture a larger support system. It’s easy to take your spouse’s support for granted. It’s dangerous to place too much weight on any one person; things can happen (not just divorce). Build your community. It’s scary to reach out and ask for help, yet people often are waiting to help once you tell them what you need. It’s okay to take more support than you give right now. Just don’t forget to pay that kindness back once you’re able.

When you’re in love, you have biochemistry on your side. Love is a drug. What we call “falling” could also be described as “tripping,” as our brains are awash in hormones that cause positive feelings, bonding and relaxation. The body wants you to create a stable relationship for long enough to have and at least partially raise children. And biology is a powerful force indeed.

To fall out of love, view your residual unwanted feelings as signs of withdrawal. If love is a drug, divorce is going cold turkey. Be patient with your cravings. They are to be expected. Accept that it’s going to be hard, especially at first, and that you will have relapses. And seek help if you need it. There is no shame is asking for assistance.

When you’re in love, you have a shared history. A private language of relieved moments and memories. There are the inside jokes, the special places and the family rituals. There are the shared family stories about the first time you met or the birth of the first child.

To fall out of love, reconnect with people from your past and/or layer memories in your present. It’s a lonely feeling when you lose the only person that speaks that private language. But there may be others that also know you well. This is a great time to reach out to those long-lost childhood friends. Laugh over shared early memories. The more pictures unearthed, the better. You can also work to create a new shared history through intentionally layering new memories over the old. It’s a way of reclaiming those memories instead of allowing them to limit you.

When you’re in love, you have a teammate. Someone on your side. Someone to work with. A coparent. A coworker. A copilot. You fight life’s battles together. And you celebrate life’s victories together.

To fall out of love, celebrate your new freedoms. Having a teammate is a bit like approaching life as though you’re running a three-legged race. You are working together, yet you are also somewhat limited by your partner. When you’re on your own, you have to learn to be stronger yet you are also more nimble. Explore those freedoms. You’re in the driver’s seat.

When you’re in love, you have sexual energy and release. You have a horizontal dance partner that has learned your moves and hopefully mastered theirs. You don’t need to woo your lover or spend energy wondering if you’ll find a lover.

To fall out of love, channel that energy elsewhere. Sex has two components – the physical release and the mental release that comes from a switch from a more analytical brain to a more animalistic and intuitive one. Address both.

When you’re in love, you have shared dreams and goals. You work together to overcome obstacles and build a shared life. The shared goals become a life organizer. A reason for every action and decision.

To fall out of love, create purpose. Volunteer. Sign up for something with a finish line. Pour yourself into your job. Or parenting. Make you matter.

When you’re in love, you have attachment. You and your partner grow together. And you bond. You feel affection. You become accustomed. Your spouse becomes almost a part of you.

To fall out of love, depersonalize rejection. Just because it happened to you does not mean it happened because of you. Such a simple statement, yet one of the most difficult to accept when you’ve been rejected. The truth is that the rejection says more about your former partner then it does about you. Learn to separate yourself from what happened to you.

When you’re in love, you have idealization. You place your partner on a pedestal, highlighting the good while whitewashing the bad. And those rose-colored glasses help to preserve love as you see the best of your partner and they see the best in you.

To fall out of love, focus on the negative. Tear out the pedestal and shine a light on your ex partner’s flaws. Remind yourself of all that you don’t like in them. Take it to the extreme if you need to right now. Once you’ve fallen out of love, you can strive for more balance again.

When you’re in love, you have security. You know who is waiting for you at home. You know that you can cry or scream and that person will still be there.

To fall out of love, embrace the power of vulnerability. It takes great courage to be vulnerable. It’s scary. Especially if you fear rejection. Yet there is a beauty, a realness and a rawness, that only exists when people are willing bare all. Explore it.

When you’re in love, you have anticipation. You look forward to your partner’s embrace. You miss them when they’re gone and count the moments until they return again. Time before the time together passes slowly in delicious agony.

To fall out of love, schedule smiles. Take out your calendar and pencil in activities and events to look forward to. Bonus points if you invite someone to share in the smile with you:)

When you’re in love, you have a spiritual partner. Perhaps you share a spiritual practice and a common view of your place and purpose in the world. Maybe your marriage and family is your center and gives you a sense of meaning.

To fall out of love, recommit to your your spiritual journey. If you belong to a church, this may be the time to dedicate more energy. If you don’t have a church, this may be a time to find one. If you’re a spiritual do-it-your-selfer, commit to what speaks to your soul. Spirituality is a wonderful reminder that we are not alone and that our problems are smaller than we often believe. It’s a gift of perspective.

When you’re in love, you have trust. You depend upon your partner. Rely on them. Have faith that they have your best interests at heart and they will always be there for you.

To fall out of love, build self-confidence. It’s good to trust others. And it’s even better to trust yourself. Believe that you can do this. Have faith that you can be happy again. Trust that you can fall out of one love and into another.

How to Crush a Crush

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Crushes are awesome. They are the first day of sunshine after a rainy week. They are a sweet bite of cake that tastes even better than imagined. They are the anticipation of the release of the sequel to your favorite movie.

They remind us that we’re alive. They make us feel attractive and ignite sexual energy. They highlight the best in people and encourage us to see the best in ourselves.

But crushes can also be dreadful.

Especially when they occur when one or both of those involved is already involved with someone else.

And when that happens, the best approach is crush the crush.

Accept It

Denying your feelings won’t work. If you try to bury them, they will only come back to bite you. Accept your crush. Even if you feel like you shouldn’t feel that way. Because you do. And that’s where you have to begin.

Name It

Once you name your emotions, you gain power over them. Sometimes a crush is overwhelming and is christened as “love.” Yet it can’t be love if you don’t even really know the person – the real person, not your fantasy created from a few data points. It’s lust. It’s excitement. It’s novelty.

Create Distance

If you’re in a relationship, it’s your responsibility to head off any potential affairs before they may reach a point of no return. If your crush is in a relationship, it’s your job to respect that partnership. Limit your exposure, especially isolated exposure, to your crush.

Don’t Catastrophize

It’s a crush. Point A. Don’t assume that it’s automatically going to proceed to Point Z. Most crushes burn hot and burn out fast. What may seem like a sign today that you’ve made the wrong choices in life may fade into obscurity before the next mortgage payment is due. Desire is not destiny. 

Take Off the Glasses

The rose ones, that is. When you’re crushing, it’s easy to perceive the object of your ardor as perfection incarnate (in fact, I would wager that most crushes are 98% fantasy and only 2% reality). But they are merely human. Allow yourself to see the imperfections. It helps to temper the roaring flames of fantasy.

Release the Guilt

Crushes are normal. Natural. Don’t beat yourself up for finding somebody attractive. It’s okay to feel that way. Just…

Don’t Act Upon It

If this an illicit crush because one or both people are partnered, then it is best left untested. A crush is a feeling. Feelings pass. If you act upon it, it’s a behavior. And behaviors have consequences.

Don’t Fixate

Yes, you’re thinking about them. It’s going to happen. But don’t encourage it. No stalking on social media. No intentional fantasizing. You’re not going to be able to bar the doors to any thoughts but you also don’t need to roll out the welcome mat.

Channel the Energy

One of the best parts of a crush is the influx of sexual energy and excitement. If you’re in a relationship, tap into that energy and reroute it back into your bedroom. Besides, great sex with your spouse will go a long way to crushing that crush:)

 

 

Biting My Tongue Until It Bleeds

Posted on by stilllearning2b

“If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

We’ve all heard that wisdom. Advice handed down by a parent or teacher, perhaps in response to unkind words we uttered or as a reminder that we don’t have to share every thought that crosses our minds.

And much of the time, that advise is indeed wise. It’s usually better to scroll past an inflammatory post on social media than to attempt to engage. There is no reason to share your annoyances about your coworker with them (as an aside, I am so happy that the singular “they” is now accepted!!!! no more him/her nonsense!!!). And even in a relationship, biting one’s tongue is a critical skill to develop.

Yet, as is so often the case in life, this advice is written in black and white, while we live in a world of gray.

Sometimes there are things that need to be said. Things that may not be nice.

Another truism guides us here –

“Before you speak, ask yourself: Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind?”

And that’s where I often mess up.

Not by saying things.

But by holding them back. Letting them build. Until they erupt, small bits of truth simmered until burnt in emotions and assumptions.

Which isn’t fair to the person on the receiving end (unfortunately, usually Brock) and it leads to a room full of ugly emotions.

It’s an error in identifying what words are necessary. An error that leads to a muddling of truth and an unintentional dash of unkindness as the initial feelings are allowed to go to rot.

Recently, I’ve made an effort to identify the reasons why I have a tendency to bite my tongue until it bleeds:

Introversion

As an introvert, I tend to process silently (or in writing), only speaking once I’ve had time to think about something. It means I’m not prone to impulsive comments or saying something that is only half-thought out, but it does mean that I can give the impression that I’m complacent when I’m really trying to think about what to say.

Analytical Nature

I naturally tend to analyze (every)things. That combined with an independent streak means that I try to solve the puzzle of my emotions on my own. My brain naturally gathers and examines data points, only sharing the conclusions once they are reached. Unfortunately, the conclusions are often not valid.

I Want to Be Liked

I don’t want to be a bother. A nag. I want to ride the waves rather than make them. As a result, I will often swallow my distress instead of voicing it. Choosing to make myself ill in an attempt to preserve others. Yeah, there’s a little ugly martyrdom there.

Self Doubt

This is a side effect of the divorce. I struggle to differentiate between feelings that are originating from something that is bothering me in my present and those that are simply echoes from the past. And as healing becomes more complete and triggers fewer are further between, I find that I try to dismiss things too quickly. Only to have them bubble up later.

Flood-Prone

Even though my triggers are better, the fear of abandonment can still cause me to flood with emotion, shutting down all hope of rational thought for a time. And when I’m flooded, I tend to retreat. Shut down.

—–

I used to avoid expressing my feelings out of a fear of confrontation. A worry that displeasure would immediately translate to rejection.

I’ve come a long way on that fear, no longer nervous about speaking up.

And I thought that was enough. That courage to speak meant that I would speak when needed.

And I’m having to accept that there is more to it than that. And that even though I’m no longer afraid, I’m still not where I want to be.

I need to learn to get better at identifying what emotions are merely the death throws of a dying trigger (and are best ignored) and which ones are the cries of an injured heart (and need expressing).

I need to get better at not allowing my analytical brain to create spreadsheets of data without at least alerting the other that there is processing going on.

I need to get better at speaking up instead of building up.

At sharing my truth before biting my tongue for so long that we both end up bloody and raw.

I’m good with restraint.

Time to become better with release.

 

Goodbye Perfect

Posted on by stilllearning2b

My new car has its first battle wound. A 4-inch scrape on the rear quarter panel that I spotted after work on Thursday.

My first response was disbelief, how could this laceration be there? Yet its reality was confirmed when it failed to rub off with an improvised buff from the corner of my jacket.

I then became angry. How dare someone assault my car in the parking lot and fail to leave a note? I entertained the idea of driving back to the gym where I had just returned from to look each car in the eye, scanning for guilt.

And then we noticed there were no signs of foreign paint on the car’s body. No lipstick on its collar. So maybe the injury occurred under my watch, even though no reverberations were ever felt nor screeches heard.

I became frustrated with myself.

“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”

As I surveyed my car, all I could see was the bare metal taunting me through the alien-green skin.

I became overwhelmed as Brock talked body shops and estimates, trying to figure out when I would have time to make a call or take it in. Phone in hand, pulling up the calendar to locate the next school break.

“Take my car tomorrow and I’ll take it in to get an estimate.”

I argued. Dismissed. Both then and through dinner. Not wanting to impose and, even more, not wanting to pay. The release of funds still linked to a release of anxiety.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The estimate arrived via PDF the following afternoon.

$500

Ouch. That hurt almost as much as the wound.

“Don’t worry about it,” I emailed Brock. “I don’t want to pay that much.”

I thought about securing a vinyl tattoo for my car to embrace its scar.

Once I arrived home, Brock walked me through the proposed procedure. On a whim, he continued talking and listening while he located a can of spray polish and vigorously scrubbed the injured area.

And simply by removing the minor associated scuffs, the task at hand seemed doable.

“How about I just order some touch-up paint and we do this ourselves?” I questioned, noting the lack of any deformation in the curve of the body.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

I relaxed.

I realized that I was pushing back against the professional repair for more than just the cost.

The body shop would have restored my car to perfect.

And with perfect comes the pressure to maintain perfection.

Goodbye perfect.

I no longer listen to your siren song.

 

Dating After Divorce: What About the Kids?

Posted on by stilllearning2b
dating after divorce

Dating after divorce?

I’ve known my entire adult life that I didn’t want kids. My first husband was in agreement and volunteered to get a vasectomy at 22, soon after we were married (try finding a doc willing to do that procedure!). All was good on the childless front.

And then I ended up single and back on the dating scene at 32. An age where my body (as far as I know) could still have babies and many age-appropriate men either already had them or would soon want them.

I was in the position to revisit my former decision never to have kids. And I realized that my position was not based on my former husband. Not only did I not want to have them, I didn’t want to be in a mother role of any kind.

I further made the very deliberate decision to never date anybody with kids. And I was very up front (even on my Match profile) that I never wanted kids. In fact, kid issue was one of the only deal breakers for a first date.

Some men tried to convince me that it was okay because they never saw their kid(s). That only made it worse (trading dad for deadbeat dad…).

One man assumed that I only wanted to avoid pregnancy for appearance reasons and concluded that I wanted to adopt. That was just absurd (stretchmarks don’t bother me, it’s the living, breathing endless responsibility I don’t want).

I encountered some great men (and seemingly great dads) that were kid- and family-oriented.

And I still said no.

Partly for me.

But mainly for them. Because I knew that I wasn’t what they were looking for and I didn’t want to waste their time (or risk their kid’s hearts).

And now happily married to a man that also didn’t want kids (reaffirmed after a stay with a 2-and 4-year-old over the holiday!), I’m very glad I made that choice to be vocal and committed to my personal choices.

But not everybody agrees.

—–

A woman wrote in to Dear Prudence recently who was in a 4-month relationship with an older man who had a 5-year-old son. The woman expressed her concern about being ready to date somebody with a kid. The response was to not worry about the kid yet and just be in the moment.

If the writer wanted kids in the near future or was even open to the idea of a kid, I would agree.

But she seemed unprepared for that step.

Fine for her.

Hard for the guy.

And potentially devastating for the kid.

I’ve watched friends stay in dating relationships too long for the sake of the partner’s kids.

I’ve witnessed the struggle when a non-parent and doesn’t-want-to-be-a-parent partner has to learn to accept their 2nd place position to the kids.

And I’ve seen kids, jettisoned once by their parent’s divorce, try to come to terms with abandonment by a parent’s partner.

Parenthood, either by biology or association, is a huge commitment. One that I believe should be taken deliberately and with the utmost care and consideration.

But of course, that’s coming from someone who has made the choice to avoid it.

So, I’m curious about your thoughts. If you have kids, would you consider dating someone who was ambivalent about children? If you don’t have them and you’ve decided you’re not ready to be a parent, would you be open to dating somebody with kids?