Sunk

I love learning about how our brains operate and how they often fool us. We tend to think of ourselves as rational creatures when the reality is often anything but. There are many fallacies that we fall prey to, but there is one in particular that plays a dominant role in relationships.

The sunk cost fallacy.

This fallacy relates to costs (financial, time, energy) that have already been invested and cannot be recovered. What has occurred is done. Over. It should not have any bearing on our decision going forward.

And yet it often does.

A non-relationship example of the sunk cost fallacy would be the money paid up front for a monthly membership to a class. You go to two classes and decide you hate the course and find the instructor particularly grating. If you were paying per class, you obviously would simply stop going. However, because you paid up front, you view the money as wasted if you do not attend, so you continue to show up, hating every minute.

Pretty silly, huh? I mean, the money is gone regardless of if you turn up at the class or use that time to perfect your soap whittling skills (something which I assume is preferable to the class in question). You would be best served by writing off the money spent and using your time for something beneficial. It may not feel like money well spent, but at least it would be time well spent. And both have value.

In a relationship, the sunk cost fallacy can keep people together even when they may be better apart. The years (or even weeks or months) of time and emotional investment have already occurred and cannot be recovered. As such, they should not be considered in the decision of whether or not to continue the relationship. Moving forward because of sunk costs won’t make you happier. Energy invested in the past doesn’t promise a return in the future. When deciding if a relationship should continue, look at the value it brings to the present and the predicted value in the future, not the investments already made. Those costs are already sunk. Sinking more ships won’t make the first ones rise.

What has passed, is past.

And the past shouldn’t dictate your future.

So, if the relationship still has an intact hull, let it sail on its own merits.

If the hull is breached beyond repair, let it sink.

And then whittle that block of soap into a sculpture:)

 

Don’t Just Survive. Thrive.

Days after my tsunami divorce, my mom turned to me and told me I would survive.

I actually got angry and responded rather strongly, “No, I will not survive. I will thrive. To do anything less is to remain his victim.”

 

I saw surviving as the bare minimum; the mere intake of breath and food in order to go through the motions of life. I refused to settle for that. I wanted more. It felt insurmountable, yet the vision and hope remained intact.

Almost five years on, and I am happy to report that I am thriving, due in large part to the four behaviors discussed in this awesome article that discusses resiliency and the difference between thriving and merely surviving.

You deserve to thrive. Learn how to take yourself off life support so that you can flourish.

Will I Ever Trust Again?

trust betrayal

“Will I ever trust again?” I asked, turning towards my dad in the aftermath of the day the marriage died.

My voice trembled along with the rest of my body, a pleading tone hoping for a positive response.

His eyes teared, he pulled me in for a hug. “I don’t know but I sure hope so.”

It wasn’t the response I wanted, but it was honest. And honest was what I needed.

Over the next weeks and months, I asked that question of my mom, my family, my friends, my journal.

And every response was the same.

“I don’t know.”

How do you recover from betrayal by the person closest to you? How do you move forward without armor so thick that no one will ever make it through? How do you ever put faith in another person after doing so destroyed your world and you in the process?

How do you learn to trust again?

You begin with yourself.

Intimate betrayal is an attack on two fronts. The first wound comes from the one who betrayed you, the piercing pain when you realize that he or she was sliding the blade into your back with every embrace. The second comes from within, as you begin to doubt yourself, your worth and your senses.

And you have to heal them both.

Before you can ever trust another, you have to learn to trust in yourself.

And that begins with trusting your strength to see you through.

If you believe that you are not strong enough to survive something, you will turn away from any indications that speak of impending disaster. The only way you will be receptive to reality is if you know you can handle it. Remember times that you have revealed your strengths. Celebrate those. Create smaller challenges in your life and master them. Write your story and cast yourself as strong and brave. Don’t let your betrayer create your character; you have the power to mold yourself in an image of fortitude and perseverance. Learn to see yourself as a survivor and thriver rather than a victim. You are the phoenix, not the ashes.

You are strong.

You can make it through anything.

Believe it. And it’s true.

And, once you know that you can survive, you’re ready to learn to listen, to see. Not with the fears of the past or the worries of the future, but with the truth of today.

Check in with your gut. If your intuition speaks, listen. Remember, there is nothing it can say that you cannot handle. Be present in your life, check words against actions. Trust that you will be okay even if someone’s actions indicate a problem. When learning to trust another, move slowly, letting out a little rope each time. Watch to see if they hang themselves but also be careful not to do it for them. If you act as though the past is on repeat, it will be replayed. See with the eyes of now, not the pain of yesterday. Sift through your past to find patterns, both in your betrayer and yourself. Learn how to change your responses to interrupt the playbook of the past.

Will you be able to trust again?

Yes.

But it can’t be blind trust, operating on wish alone.

It’s a trust born from strength and intention.

It comes from being present and truthful.

It hopes for the best but does not fear the worst.

It understands that you cannot control another but you can always depend on yourself.

You are strong.

You can be trusted.

Believe in yourself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Relax. It’s Just a Date

I met with a divorced friend the other day. She was seeking my advice on navigating the online dating world. She had created her profile and interacted with a few men, but not was not having the success she imagined. I asked her what her approach had been so far. She described her bio and listed her requirements that included strict height and age limits. She added other factors that would qualify the men as good husband and father material.

Basically, she had created her perfect match and was then interviewing men to see if they fit her mental profile. And they all fell short. Literally, in some cases. My first advice to her was to change her attitude around dating.

Read the rest of my advice here.

Bust a Rut

Regular gym-goers have a tendency to dread the facility in January. Every machine and every corner is occupied from pre-dawn to well after dark. It can become frustrating when the new exercisers make it difficult to use a machine, invade your personal space in a class or elongate your workout due to the extra wait time.

I used to grumble every year about the influx of newbies. Some years, I even avoided the gym for much of January, only to return once the numbers dwindled down to a more reasonable level.

I don’t complain anymore. After all, we cannot always change our circumstances, but we can always change our attitude. The people are coming, I might as well learn how to accept it:)

I actually really enjoy seeing people embark on a fitness routine. I love seeing the determination and I celebrate their success. I am often more inspired by the people setting foot in a gym for the first time than I am by the people who visit every day. It takes some real guts to start something new, especially when you feel like an outsider. (A la Sephora)

What I don’t like is that my routine is inevitably disrupted.

I don’t have a prescribed set of exercises. I change things up. But I prefer to change them up on my terms.

January doesn’t allow that to happen.

Overnight, I go from being able to choose what exercises I want to do to having to think on the spot and do whatever I can with whatever I can.

It’s a rude awakening, having to relinquish that control.

But I actually kind of like it.

Let’s be honest, if not required by necessity, I wouldn’t bust out of my fitness rut. I may change things up, but I only change them within my comfort zone. In January, there is no comfort zone. It’s already filled with guys doing bench press and ladies doing core work. Rather than alter just a few exercises, I’m forced to start from scratch every time.

It’s frustrating. But also revitalizing.

You don’t see the rut until you’re strong armed into busting it.

Often, when we face change on our terms, we seek to control it. We move slowly or at least in measured and thought out increments. In some ways, change on our terms in easier since we feel like we are in the driver’s seat. Yet, it can also be more challenging as you have to battle with your own fear each step of the way.

Sometimes life doesn’t allow us to change at our own pace. Sometimes it comes as a great big unwanted shift that requires adaptation and acceptance.

Or complaining and resistance.

It’s really your choice.

And for all the gym newbies, I wish you the best. I hope to still see you in February. Just please don’t hog the squat rack:)