Share Your Successes

In many ways, 2017 has been a rough year for me. I lost my best buddy, Tiger, years before his time. I’ve had a challenging time finding balance with work, especially when I expected year two to be less overwhelming. As a result of my work schedule, I’ve felt a strange mix of over-extended for an introvert and yet also lonely, as I haven’t had time to connect enough with friends.  I’ve had several people close to me experience challenging times, major crises and unimaginable loss. I’ve both grieved with them and hurt for them. I reached a milestone birthday (forty) and even though the age doesn’t bother me, my body will no longer accept the same amount of training I have done in the past.

But of course, that’s not the whole story.

There have been successes alongside the harder times. My husband and I have grown stronger together and we leaned on each other through our grief over Tiger. I’ve been honored to be recognized as a teacher of the year and the top contributor for DivorceForce. I was able to go on a trip I’d dreamed about for twenty years and meet up with a friend I hadn’t seen in twenty years for another trip. I’ve made new friends (no easy task for an overworked introvert). I reached my summer goal of writing a second book and I feel good about its message. I continue to do better with staying mindful and less anxious. And I’m ending the year experiencing success with the selection of and training a new puppy.

And that’s how life goes.

The downs follow the ups and the summits don’t last forever. The triumphs blend through the struggles like the veins in a slab of granite. And the good times sometimes turn out to be bad and upon further reflection, the bad is sometimes revealed to be good.

So as we close out this year that’s been both awful and excellent, I ask for you to take a moment and share your successes here. Maybe it’s something you’ve survived that you believed you couldn’t. Maybe you’ve made progress towards a goal. Or perhaps you’ve done something that has helped to improve the life of another. No matter how small in number or scale, no matter how much this year may have sucked for you, you HAVE achieved something.

Share it. Celebrate it.

End this year on a positive and hopeful note.

Maybe, just maybe, the best is yet to come.

Online Dating For Dogs

We had two dates set up for Wednesday evening.

The first was with a ten-month-old male. His owner needed to part ways with him after the trauma of a breakup and a cancer diagnosis. The other was with a young adult female who had been described by the animal control officer who picked her up as, “The best dog in the world.”

On the ninety-minute drive to meet the puppy, I mentioned to my husband that I was way more nervous about these dates than I had ever been about a date with a man. After all, on my human dates, the only thing at stake was the possibility of another date. A commitment that extended for a few hours and maybe made the decision to end things a little more messy.

But with a dog?

The stakes are much higher.

It’s less, “Hey, I think I like you and I would like to see you again” and more, “Well, you seem pretty cool. How about you move in with me for the next ten years?”

Other than that, the process is pretty similar, whether the companion sought is human or canine. The brief paragraphs describing the potential partner are read and re-read, carefully analyzing the words chosen. The pictures are scanned, trying to determine chemistry and attraction through a few static pixels. Memories of the former partner keep rising to the surface and with them, the inevitable comparisons that you keep swatting away in an attempt to keep your vision and perceptions clear.

Upon meeting, your senses are on high alert, trying to both take in your first impressions and also carefully monitoring for any red flags. There’s the usual awkwardness, as you’re trying to pair up rhythms and form tentative tendrils of nascent trust. There’s the exploratory dance with its unspoken questions: “Do you like me? Do you think we could make this thing work?” and its silent answers: “I do. I think so.”

There’s the strange mix of excitement for the rush of new love and trepidation for changing the status quo. The underlying and pervasion question of, “Am I doing the right thing?” And the fear, that sits heavy in the gut, of opening the heart again when the pain of loss is still so fresh.

We finally pulled up outside the address that was given to us for the first date. We sat in the car, waiting for the reply to the text saying that we had arrived.

I had conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I wanted the dog to clearly not be a good match so that the decision was already made for us. On the other hand, I wanted the dog to be a perfect fit for our family so that we could begin the process of sharing our lives with a pup again. Of course, what I wanted had no bearing on what we were going to find once we went through that door.

The date went well.

Very well.

Within a few minutes, he was responding to my husband’s corrections and a few minutes after that, he climbed into my lap and proceeded to initiate a make-out session.

Apparently, he had made his decision.

And a few minutes later, we made ours.

Welcome to the family, Kazh:)

So now we’re busy forming bonds, building trust and establishing expectations. So far, so good. This online date seems to be a success.

Five Surprising Ways Trust is Frayed

trust

There are some actions whose impact on trust is obvious and catastrophic. Infidelity, sudden abuse, revealing or withholding important information and financial betrayal all sever the ties of emotional security with one brutal slash.

Yet many times, the erosion of trust is much more subtle and the belief in your partner happens slowly, one frayed stand of reilance at a time. It’s possible (and even common) for neither partner to realize the deleterious and compounding effect of these actions; they remain unnoticed until it becomes too late and trust may be beyond recovery.

Learn to recognize these crafty threats to trust so that you can address them before it’s too late:

 

1 – Not Showing Excitement

Ask any dog guardian about their favorite part about having a dog, and you will most likely hear something about how good it feels to be greeted every time with a wagging tail. Likewise, we want our partners to be excited to see us, no matter if we just returned from a month away or just walked in from a stroll around the block. A lackluster welcome can begin to make your presence feel unnoticed or even unwanted.

Apart from enthusiastic greetings, we want our partners to share in our successes. When we have reached some goal or garnered some praise, we want them to share in our sense of achievement. When we initiate a conversation with excitement and that energy is not returned, it is a feeling of trying to play tennis with a partner who refuses to return the serve.

Over time, you may begin to withhold your good news, refrain from sharing your passion, deciding that it’s less painful to celebrate alone than to have your smile countered with a shrug.

 

2 – Disappointment

Sometime disappointment comes from a person who deliberately fails to follow through on their promises. Their words soon become meaningless as their actions never manifest. You begin to expect that they won’t do as they say and you find yourself surprised when the behavior matches the claim.

Other times, the intention of the promise-maker is good and the lack of follow-through is more sporadic. Strangely, this situation is often more painful and causes more damage to trust than the first case, because the intermittent rewards keep you hoping for the desired outcome.

Especially if you have experienced major betrayal, these disappointments can register at a larger magnitude than they actually are. Furthermore, past injuries may encourage you to assume intent where there is only carelessness.

 

3 – Overreacting

We expect (and rightfully so) our partners to be our “safe space.” We want to be able to express our inner worries and reveal even our ugliest thoughts without the fear of being ridiculed or rejected. And if name-calling commences or the tone turns abusive, the impact on trust is overt and clear.

Yet the damaging impact to trust can occur even without a negative word uttered or a thought belittled. When every reaction to a statement is over-the-top, a five-alarm response to a two-alarm fire, your partner shifts from your safe space to someone you feel you have to keep safe from your thoughts and feelings.

Part of trust comes from consistency. And when you’re unsure how your partner is going to respond in a given moment or to a given piece of information, faith can be replaced with a sense of unease and wariness.

 

 

4 – Dismissing

When your perceptions and conclusions are constantly called into question or continually brushed aside as inconsequential, you can begin to doubt yourself. This doubt and confusion can spread, permeating the relationship. Additionally, a continual disregard of your thoughts and opinions can easily lead you to conclude that you’re not that important to your partner.

There is a balance between overreacting and shrugging everything off as “not that bad.” Trust comes from listening to everything with an open mind and with a mouth that often remains closed.

 

5 – Not Showing Support

When you’re falling and you’ve been led to expect a safety net, the sudden appearance of hard ground will cause you to question the dependability of the person who pledged to have your back. This can be as minute as a late pickup without communication at the airport or not picking up the slack around the house when you’re under a deadline at work.

 

None of these are relationship deal-breakers on their own. They are not unforgivable offenses and, in most cases, no offense was meant by them. In each case, the underlying cause of the erosion of trust comes down to unexpressed expectations and poorly communicated reactions. And the road back to trust is relatively straight forward: Talk more. And assume less.

 

Five Healthy Ways to Fill the Void After Divorce (And What to Look Out For!)

It’s official – we’re actively looking for a new dog (or two!) to bring into our home after the sudden loss of Tiger. It’s not easy. Brock and I both are vacillating between wanting to claim a dog ASAP to bring life back into our home and canine love back into our hearts and hesitating because so far, none of them have felt quite right. Adding to that is the very real desire to want to save them all.

Brock ordered a likeness of Tiger made by Shelter Pups for my Christmas present.

It’s amazing.

 

It’s hard to think and act rationally when we’re feeling so emotional. We are trying to be deliberate and intentional in our decisions and yet we keep questioning our choices too. Are we saying “no” to a particular dog because they’re not the right fit or because they’re not Tiger? Are we really ready to welcome a new companion, or are we still seeking a way to plug the hole in our hearts?

As we’re navigating this, I keep finding myself thinking about the emptiness I felt after divorce. There was an impulse to stuff myself full of every opportunity to avoid feeling the loss. Sometimes, I was able to resist that pull to fill the void through imprudent and unhealthy means that would make me feel better in the moment, but not in the long run. And other times, I allowed myself to believe in the false promises whispered by certain practices, telling me that I could feel better immediately.

Here are five unhealthy ways to fill the void that we tend to gravitate towards after divorce and also five healthier ways to address the emptiness.  Do you relate to any of these?

 

You Don’t Need to Understand To Be Able to Move On

understand divorce

“I just don’t understand how he could do that to his wife and kids…”

“Her words and actions are so cold. I just don’t get it…”

“How can someone have so little regard for others?”

 

I’ve been seeing questions like this with ever-increasing frequency, their authors pleading for answers. For some sort of sudden and maybe-even-magical insight that brings clarity to the situation.

It’s natural that we want to understand. From the time we were first learning which sounds out of our mother’s mouth meant that we were being attended to, we have placed an inordinate amount of importance on understanding the world around us. And when the words and actions originate from our chosen life-partner, finding understanding becomes a given, an assumption.

Until suddenly it isn’t.

When one day, that person that you thought you knew so well suddenly seems to act out of character and without consideration for others. The shock reverberates through your body as you stumble through your memories, trying to make sense of this new information. You’re disoriented. Confused.

And consumed with an overwhelming need to understand both why and how this is happening.

 

Searching for the “lightbulb” moment…

As a teacher, I live for the “lightbulb” moments, those times when the math that was a struggle suddenly becomes clear and comprehensible to a student. Those moments are magical, where confusion and frustration are instantly transformed into mastery and appreciation.

When my first husband disappeared, I expected, that with enough effort and practice, I would experience my own “lightbulb” moment, where my shock and bewilderment would be replaced with understanding and I would be able to see and comprehend how he could have made the choices he did.

I believed that reaching this understanding was crucial for me to move on, much like my students have to demonstrate mastery in order to advance to the next level. I expected this understanding to place the event within a larger context, to provide meaning for the pain and motivation for the cause of it.

But no matter how hard I tried, understanding remained elusive. I knew much of the “what,” but little of the “why,” much like a student that simply memories material for the exam without fully comprehending any of it. I finally reached two realizations:

1 – I was attempting to apply rational thought to irrational actions. I simply wouldn’t be able to understand because there wasn’t a logical motivation or explanation for what had occurred. It is simply not possible to make sense of the senseless.

2 – Part of my struggle to understand originated from the fact that I couldn’t fathom, no matter the circumstances, making the same decisions he did. My brain couldn’t go there, even as a purely cognitive exercise. You cannot understand what you cannot even imagine and sometimes an inability to comprehend is a reflection of your character.

 

 

There is the person and there is the perspective…

“Who was I married to?” I questioned myself endlessly after his double life was revealed. Suddenly I felt violated, like I had been assaulted by this stranger masquerading as a loving husband. I wondered if he had always been this way or if he had undergone some dark metamorphosis. Obsessed, I turned the options over and over again in my mind until the edges of him grew soft like a stone polished in a tumbler.

I simply couldn’t reconcile the view I had of him with the person he now appeared to be. And without a doubt, he held much of the responsibility for that disconnect. He deliberately and consistently hid behind the persona he had constructed for himself.

But I also had manufactured an image of him and allowed cognitive bias to filter out information that didn’t match my viewpoint. Part of my drive for understanding arose from the dissonance between my construct of him and the reality that had burst through the projection. Yet what was needed was less comprehension and more assimilation between the person and the outside perspective.

Strangely, it became more about understanding my motivations and choices than about wrapping my brain around his. After all, your own mind is the only one that you can observe from within. You may as well take the time to get to know it.

 

Assimilating the new information into your story…

It felt like walking into the movie theater as the film reached its climactic scene. I saw the explosions, felt the vibrations of the aftermath, but had no knowledge of what had advanced the story to that point. Even worse, I thought I had signed up for a romance flick only to discover that it was actually a crime drama.

At first, my energy went into trying to piece together the parts of the narrative that I had missed. What caused the conflict? What incited the destruction? The action without the background felt meaningless, a sucker punch out of nowhere.

Part of the need for understanding was driven by a desire to have the story make sense, to have defined antecedents for each behavior and to have clear consequences for every wrongdoing. I wanted the “bad guy” to pay and the “good guy” to come out ahead.

Eventually, I realized that my ex was a particularly crappy script writer, since he elected to leave his character’s motivations unclear. I decided to take the matter into my own hands and, picking up where he left off, create meaning from the wreckage. Reaching a conclusion that I may not be able to reach an understanding about his choices, but I could make sure that my decisions were guided by a larger purpose.

I never found understanding; I created understanding. Even though you cannot change what happens to you, you can always adjust your view of it. You may never be able to assemble all of the pieces of your past, but that doesn’t stop you from building your future.