Taking a Test Drive and the Allure of New Beginnings

I test drove a new car today.

It was shiny and unblemished next to my worn and pockmarked almost-sixteen-year-old car. Its pristine surfaces spoke not of its past but whispered of its future.

This was a car that has never disappointed me. Never failed to start or stuttered to a stop. No red flags have ever lit its dash. Whereas my car is sullied by my memories of its betrayals, this car has not earned a reputation of any kind.

And not only had this car not disappointed me, I had not done any damage to it, unlike my car with its scraped rear end from a misguided back-up attempt and its interior covered with mud and dog hair. You see, I have long since stopped putting any energy into my car. And it shows.

But this new car is different.

It suggests a fresh start. A clean slate.

It has the allure of promise and the taste of potential.

It’s enough to make me recoil from my old car, the mostly-faithful machine that has carried me through my entire adult life. I know her; I can drive her without a thought, every button and pedal activated by years of muscle memory. But as the years have advanced, I’ve grown tired of her. I’ve let her go and then poked fun at her grubby appearance. I’ve started to focus on when she lets me down rather than the 130,000 miles she has carried me without complaint. I grow frustrated at her nonfunctional trunk and laugh at the antennae that looks to be in need of a hearty dose of Viagra.

And, of course, the new car only seems so great because we have only shown each other our best sides. It has not yet revealed its little annoyances and shortcomings and I have not presented it with sweaty limbs after a run or a muddy dog after a hike. Everything is great when it is only possibility.

Because even though I test drove a new car today, I was really test driving a new life.

I liked the image of myself behind the wheel in the shiny, new vehicle. You see, I’ve grown embarrassed to be seen with the old and unkempt one. The new car felt like a better reflection of me. I enjoyed the fact that this car had no memories, no past. No baggage. It was as though I could start fresh just by buying a new vehicle. I made the promise to keep up with new one, to attend to dirt and grime along with the recommended oil changes and tire rotations.

New is intoxicating.

And not just for cars.

Our relationships can take on a sense of dissatisfaction just as easily as an old car. Any relationship that has traveled the miles will carry the marks of past fights or disappointments. An established relationship reminds you of your shortcomings and your mistakes. If you fail to take care of your marriage, it will show its age just as with any vehicle.

The hint of a new relationship is just as alluring as the pull of a new car. It’s why people so often leave established relationships for someone they just met. The routine spouse cannot compete against the shiny new showroom model that is full of promise and potential. A new partner does not yet know anything we choose not to reveal; we can pretend to be the airbrushed versions of ourselves. The everyday is replaced with the excitement of the unfamiliar.

It’s hard to compete against beginnings.

They hold a special power. They allow us to dream and explore, often through a land of make-believe.

Because the thing about beginnings is that they cannot last. Just as that new car loses value as its driven off the lot, a new affair loses its luster as soon as the blinding dust of lust has dispersed and reality intrudes into fantasy. The strength of the appeal of the new is found in its novelty. And nothing stays novel for long.

I test drove a new car today. But then I returned home to my old (usually) faithful with the commitment of having her oil changed this weekend followed by a good cleaning. Because sometimes the best thing you can do is ignore the lure of the new and take care of what you have.

At least until she leaves me stranded again. At which point, I’ll set her up with my mechanic and run off with a new model. I can only take so much:)

 

When You Shouldn’t Forgive

We are told that to err is human; to forgive is divine.

But is that always the case?

Are there times when forgiveness actually harms you rather than setting you free?

Read the article. It made me think. What does it say to you?

For all that culturally we admire the ability to forgive—it’s associated with magnanimity, spiritual growth, and, of course, religiosity—it remains a somewhat thorny issue from a psychological point of view. In layman’s terms, the ability to forgive is widely seen as evidence of how high humans rank in the chain of being—animals don’t forgive, after all—so it conveys a moral superiority. But from a psychological point of view, two key questions remain: Why do humans forgive and, when they do, how do they hope to benefit? Read the rest on Psychology Today.

 

I know one of the reasons that I chose and have been able to forgive my ex is that he is not a presence in my life. I’m forgiving a memory of a person rather than actual flesh and blood. I don’t know if I would have made the same choice if he was still an active participant in my life.

Pros and Cons of a Disappearing Act

Being abandoned sucks. The shock alone is enough to stop your heart. And then, once it starts beating again, all you want to to is yell at your so-called partner who thought it was acceptable to simply walk away with no notice and no dialog. It steals your voice. It leaves you in a perpetual state of uncertainty and doubt. It means you never had a chance to fight for your marriage and you’re left alone to try to sort through the mess of what’s left. Friends and family question what about you was so bad to cause your spouse to slink away like a thief in the night. It calls the entire relationship into question. And there are no answers to be found.

Yeah, there’s no doubt. Being abandoned sucks.

But, as with everything, there is another side. One I have fully embraced (it was either that or go crazy). And one explored, somewhat humorously, by Chump Lady. One of my favorite lines from her? “You mistook this ice cube for a human being. It happens. Maybe you bred with the ice cube. I’m sorry.” Thank goodness I didn’t procreate with my ice cube and his vasectomy ensures he never will.

 

So, here are the pros and cons of abandonment as I see them. I’d love to hear your additions as well.

 

Pros

-It’s efficient. There’s no long, protracted “do we stay together or split?” period.

-You never get your hopes up. You know it’s over.

-The no-contact advice is really easy to follow.

-You know he/she is a jerk (regardless of what you thought before) and you don’t waste time pining over him/her.

-You don’t have to make the difficult decision about divorce. Even if your spouse leaves it to you to file (as in my case), it’s a clear course of action.

-You may have been lied to (for years, even), but the lies are over. You don’t have to listen to any more deceptions.

-You don’t have to spend any awkward time living in the same house as your soon-to-be-ex. Although you may have to clean out his/her underwear drawer if they left without their belongings.

-If you need evidence to prove “fault” for the divorce or custody laws in your state, you’ll have plenty of fodder.

-You’ll spend less time divorcing so you can get busy healing.

-It makes for an interesting divorce story.

 

Cons

-The shock is horrific. It literally almost killed me when I dropped 20 lbs in a week and developed an abnormal heart rhythm.

-You feel discarded. Like you weren’t even good enough to have a discussion with.

-You feel so angry, yet there is no one to yell at.

-You will always wonder what happened. And answers, even false ones, never come.

-You may discover a hidden life, complete with betrayals from sexual to financial.

-You will be blamed. Everyone always insists there are two sides to every story. Even when you didn’t know there was a story.

-You have no time to get used to the idea of being single. You’re married and then “poof!,” you’re not.

-It makes it hard to trust again. If one partner disappeared without warning, what’s to stop the next from doing the same.

-It’s difficult to sort through the marriage and identify areas where you could improve without assuming the guilt for the whole enchilada.

-If you have kids, their relationship with the disappearing parent will be affected at best and absent at worst.

 

Looking at those lists, I’m sure glad that I didn’t have to make a choice between the two. It goes without saying that they’re both awful, horrible, no good, very bad experiences. But, as I’ve said before, happiness is divorce in the rearview mirror. Get through and get on.

 

 

 

 

Love Is Only Blind When Your Head Is In the Sand

Do you ever look back at a former relationship and wonder what you saw in your one-time flame?

Or do you ever question a friend or family member’s choice in partners?

It’s easy when you’re outside of a relationship to view the bigger picture, the distance providing perspective while damping emotions.

But when you’re in it?

It’s all too easy to bury your head in the sand.

 

We stick our heads in the sand in relationships for a variety of reasons:

Avoidance

A wife sees a suggestive text on her husband’s phone from an unknown female. Her heart begins to race and panic floods her system. The hint of an affair is overwhelming to her; she cannot face the thought that her marriage is in trouble and that she may lose her husband. She turns away from the text and tries to pretend that she never saw it. That it didn’t happen.

When we see something that frightens us, we have two choices: approach or hide. In a relationship, the latter can cause problems as the truth is not faced because of the anxiety of losing the partnership. Of course, the fear persists even when the truth is not faced head-on. This state is usually temporary when either the truth becomes too big to avoid or the anxiety becomes too high to tolerate and the evidence is finally challenged. Burying your head out of fear may make you blind but it leaves you even more vulnerable to attack.

Mindlessness

A husband is busy at work, long hours and stressful clients have kept him away from home both physically and emotionally. He prides himself on providing for his family and doesn’t really have the time or energy to consider the status of the marriage as a whole. His wife, meanwhile, appreciates his efforts but feels isolated and lonely as her partner has become a husband in name only.

Heads can end up in the sand even without intentional digging. Stay still long enough and the tides will conspire to bury you. This is a blindness born of inattentiveness and busyness rather than willful evasion. Regardless of the motivation, the outcome is still a relationship in danger due to a lack of clarity and communication.

Willful Ignorance

A wife is pretty sure that her husband has a mistress. She intentionally chooses to turn a blind eye to his affair because he is a good father and stable husband. So she decides not to confront him and, even more, chooses to avoid situations that may reveal evidence of the infidelity. She knows something is there but chooses not to look.

This blindness is born more of pragmatism than fear. The reality is known to an extent and even quietly accepted. It’s a desire to pretend that life isn’t messy and emotions can be subjugated to reason. It’s a carefully edited and narrated form of the relationship. Although often dismissed, there is a sadness in this buried head that comes from lack of vulnerability and associated intimacy.

Bargaining

Prior to the marriage, a husband knows that his wife has problems with anger. He is uncomfortable with her temper and it raises red flags for him. However, he wagers her temperament against her other qualities and decides that the good outweigh the bad. When others bring up her outbursts out of concern, the husband responds by dismissing the concerns and tallying the pros that she brings to the table.

This is a common approach when a partner has issues with violence and/or substance abuse. There may be several very good qualities that are only occasionally accompanied by the bad. It’s a dangerous game; however, as the blinded partner slides into enabling the poor behaviors and choices.

 

A healthy relationship is one where both partners have their heads tall, looking out for problems on the horizon and addressing them as they approach. Burying your head may make you feel safe for a time but it’s no way to live.

Have the courage to lift your head.

Trust that you can handle whatever you see.

True love isn’t blind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Affair-Proof

Whenever I stumble across the words “affair-proof,” my mind responds like the Incredible Hulk — raging and ready to rip. Now, don’t get me wrong, I wish I could find solace in those words and place my faith in their sanctity.

But I can’t.

Because there is no such thing as an affair-proof relationship.

It simply doesn’t exist. And pretending that it does only causes additional pain and heartbreak.

Implied in those words is the understanding that if an affair occurs, the betrayed obviously did not perform his or her duties effectively to affair-proof the marriage. It places the blame for the infidelity squarely on the shoulders on the one who was cheated upon. Read the rest here.