Connection

Posted on by stilllearning2b

One of the complaints I often hear from the newly divorced and newly dating is that they don’t feel a connection with any of their companions. They say the dates are “okay” but bemoan the lack of a spark or bond.

But I wonder if they’re looking for the right thing.

In a marriage, intimacy develops between the spouses. You have seen the other at his or her best as well as his or her worst. In time, you accept their vulnerabilities and expose your own. You become accustomed to that level of connection.

And then divorce happens. And either suddenly or with a slow slip over time, that intimacy is gone. And it feels strange. Foreign. Isolating. Lonely.

So you look for that connection, that intimacy. You meet people, go out on dates, looking to regain that feeling of being connected and understood. But every encounter falls short. Sure, some start off with a bang (sometimes literally), but then sooner or later you’re left feeling alone again as the chasm between you and your not-too-far-from-stranger-date becomes clear.

One of my most memorable moments with Brock occurred after we had been dating for less than a year. I was over at his house for the night, where he woke me up around 2:00 a.m. to inform me we needed to go to the emergency room. He was scared – I could see it in his eyes. An hour later, we were in an exam room, the basics addressed and waiting for further tests. This normally strong and self-assured man was prone on a hospital bed, the gown revealing little flesh but lots of vulnerabilities. He asked for me to hold his hand. He asked for me to read to him. It was the first time since my marriage that an adult had been laid bare in front of me.

After months of more superficial connections, it was a bit strange being at that level of intimacy again. Foreign, yet familiar. This was the feeling I was looking for on dates. But that was a fool’s mission. Because that kind of intimacy takes trust and trust takes time to build.

I had been looking for that type of connection again on my dates.

But connections are formed, not found.

You may find lust on a first date, but you won’t find trust.

You may find curiosity, but you won’t experience intimacy.

You may find potential, but you won’t find a partner.

That takes time.

And adaptation.

I have a guest post about the role of adaptation in dating over at Must Be This Tall to Ride. Check it out and then follow Matt’s blog. He’s a divorced father who writes refreshingly honest and funny essays about the adventures. You’ll be entertained and enlightened at all once:)

Relax. It’s Just a Date

Posted on by stilllearning2b

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.

Top Ten

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I grew up watching David Letterman on the Late Show. My favorite part of every show was always the top ten list. It was relevant, clever and often had multi-layered meanings embedded within the list. This top ten list is not like that:) These are simply the 10 most shared posts from my site over the past two years (yikes! has it really been that long?!?). Plus, it would have to be called the Early Show since I’m often in bed long before ten.

Drumroll, please, Paul Shaffer.

10. Ghosts of Christmas: I wrote this one last year, reflecting on how the holiday changed for me once my parents divorced and how Christmas has evolved for me as an adult. I still smile looking at some of the pictures in this post. I look so young. Scary fact – I was already dating my ex husband at the time the one with the huge stocking was taken.

9. En Guarde: Lessons From the Fencing Strip: I fenced (yeah, the thing with the swords) throughout much of high school. My instructor, a surly Frenchman nicknamed Pouj, taught me many lessons. About sword fighting, sure, but also about life.

8. Divorce and PTSD: This has been my most controversial piece to date (don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll write more that get people’s drawers in a bunch:) ). The link between divorce and PTSD is starting to get more attention. I hope that continues; no one should have to suffer in silence.

7. Who Is He?: Ahh, yes. The post inspired by the way people find my blog. It’s scary, but Google will auto-fill my name with “husband” or “ex husband.” I reveal his identity in my own way in this post.

6. I Leave You With: This is a recent post, written just before my wedding. I was feeling reflective and grateful and I wanted to share hope with those who cannot yet see the light. It does get better. I promise.

5. Finding Love Again: This is a somewhat abstract post about dating and being vulnerable in love after loss. I share my screw-ups and what I learned along the way. Apparently people find them helpful. Or they just like to laugh at my screw-ups:)

4. Fifty Shades of Grey Through the Eyes of a Divorcee: I was asked to read this book before attending a party with the same theme. The story didn’t captivate me, but I saw the appeal for women who had been through a divorce. By the way, the Grey Goose martinis with zip tie olive holders were awesome!

3. Tips For Surviving a Malignant Divorce: One of the reasons I started writing was that there was little to information and support for those going through an atypical divorce. All the usual advice did not pertain to me. This post enumerates some of what I figured out and that can be helpful for those also engaged in an unusual divorce. A note here, I usually shy away from labels like “narcissist” and “sociopath” in regards to my ex, but these tips certainly apply to those divorcing spouses with those diagnoses.

2. How to Become a Huffington Post Blogger: Apparently a lot of people want to write for HuffPo. Getting on with them was certainly a big break for me that lead to many more opportunities. Here are my suggestions for getting published. Just make sure you have a thick skin first – those commenters are brutal!

Paul, you’re up. Another drumroll, please:)

1. The Day the Marriage Died: Much of this was actually written in the weeks after he left. It’s raw. Brutal, even. I still have trouble reading it, even to this day. I think it captures the shock and devastation left behind when a marriage ends suddenly. Thank goodness that life doesn’t end there.

So, there you have it – the top ten shared posts. Hopefully you saw some old favorites or found something new to enjoy over a cup of coffee. Happy hopefully-a-holiday Monday to you:)

Lisa

Amuse Bouche

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I am not a foodie. I thought about it for a time when I dated a guy that knew how to create an amazing meal from the most random ingredients, but it didn’t really stick. Let’s face it, when I’m hungry, I eat. That doesn’t leave much room for artful concoctions or presentations as I tend to nibble the ingredients away first:)

Plus, I have an amazing ability to eat the same thing over and over. For years. My current obsession? Sweet and spicy popcorn. I invented it (okay, probably not really, but I doubt there’s a patent anywhere) after one of my students was talking about cinnamon sugar toast and my gluten free belly got jealous. Here’s the completely not-fit-for-a-cookbook recipe:

1) Make popcorn – I put kernels in a plain brown lunch bag, fold the top over a few times, and put in the microwave. Look ma, chemical-free microwave popcorn!

2) Melt a little bit of coconut oil and drizzle over popcorn.

3) Top with salt, stevia, cinnamon and….chili powder.

Serious yum. Just don’t ask me for proper wine pairings.

During my brief foray into foodieism, I was treated to a meal like no other – endless courses paired with matching cocktails that ignited areas of my palate I didn’t know existed. The entire restaurant held less than a dozen tables and the chef, as though on a stage, occupied a central kitchen. It was an amazing, and entirely foreign, experience for me.

I was also introduced that night to a concept familiar to those in the restaurant world – amuse bouche.

An amuse bouche is a little tidbit, a morsel, that the chef prepares while you’re waiting for your first course. It is intended to awaken the palate and to highlight the chef’s talent. The term literally translates to “mouth amuser.”

What a cool idea.

The amuse bouche is never intended to be a stand alone meal. It is not designed to meet all of your nutritional needs nor will it ever fill you up.

It is just a little smile, a hint of anticipation, a distraction from your rumbling belly.

Looking back, much of my dating (aka Match Madness) was like a series of amuse bouches (the plural may be completely grammatically incorrect but you get the idea) – little dates that were never intended to fulfill the needs of a real relationship. Distractions from my rumbling brain. Hints of what was to come when it was time for the real thing.

Amuse redez-vous.

It’s okay to smile while waiting you’re waiting for the real thing.

 

 

 

 

My Husband Walked Into a Bar

Posted on by stilllearning2b

My husband was out of town for business this past week.

As I’m winding down for the evening, I receive the following text:

Sitting at the bar of the steak house that I am at and there is a woman in her 70s who is cracking me up.

My response?

That’s the kind of woman I want you to pick up in bars:)

He chatted with this lady through the evening, sharing pieces of their conversation with me.

She was in her mid 70s and was recently widowed after being married for 50 years.

50 years.

With the same person.

And then they’re gone.

Wow.

I remember how alien it was to be alone after 16 years.

But that’s a drop in the bucket.

My husband was drawn to this woman’s energy. She had made the decision to fully embrace this next chapter of her life, even though it wasn’t asked for.

She got a tattoo. On her butt.

She dates younger men. Plural. Her pick line? “Do you have life alert? I’ve fallen for you and can’t get up.”

She is going ziplining this week and told stories of her other adventures.

She didn’t use the excuse, “I’m too old.” She didn’t live in the past, although she didn’t forget it either.

She shared a bit of marital advice with my husband.

Write notes. Lots of them.

She went on to talk about how her husband left her notes on an almost daily basis. She laughed about it at the time since their frequency made them not-so-special.

But then he became ill. And he died.

And now she looks back at the notes and smiles, remembering the relationship.

And now she realizes that even if each note may not have seemed special at the time, the accumulation of them is priceless because it speaks of the affection and bond held through the years.

I understand.

Brock and I are note writers. It’s amazing the power of a few simple words or a smily face can have on your mood and outlook. I have a folder filled with the ones I have received from him over the years. I hope I’ll need a box to hold them before the end.

I enjoyed my by proxy evening with the this woman – a reminder that you are never too old, that you can fully embrace life after unwanted change and to never take yourself too seriously.

I think I’ll hold off on that gluteal tattoo, however:)