Happy Being Me

Image courtesy of HealthWorks

*Cough, cough* Goodness--I just wiped the cobwebs off this thing. It's been a hot minute, and a lot has happened in the interim. For starters, I got a new job that has completely changed the way I prioritize my time. This blog has not made the cut--but I've missed it.

Other things have happened, things that have caused me to seriously evaluate myself. More than at any other eventful period in my life (perhaps), this phase has revealed to me that the world outside myself can really get me wrong. I've dealt with guilt (self- and otherwise imposed) for having even less time with Mini Mo each day than I had before, for having to depend on even more people to help take care of her (so blessed to have wonderful folks in my life), for having a tough time figuring out dinner most nights, for having even less inclination to de-shamble my house. I've been planning to fantabulize Mini Mo's room since before she was born, and I haven't really gotten around to it--two and half years later.

Yet, I'm proud of myself and I like myself. I dared to try something new in my life, and I'm more fulfilled because of it. I recognize my shortcomings and am cool with myself in spite of them. I teach, converse with, listen to, discipline, indulge, learn from and treasure Mini Mo. I try to make sure my whole family gets quality time together and to simply show love, even with our ridiculously busy schedules. I let my hubby know that our relationship, as the root of our family, is paramount. I'm smart, I'm funny (sometimes in ways that only I understand), I'm kind and I'm pensive. I'm working to help others--and I'm a work in progress.

But sometimes the world outside myself can make me question my plusses, the extent to which I like my otherwise confident self, and downright judge me like nobody's business. It gets to be pretty heavy at times. So the other day, I got real with myself and said, "Self, sometimes you have to encourage yourself, and you have to take some time to be happy with yourself." The time I spent doing both of those things was invaluable, and I have a new commitment to them, to myself. More importantly, I think this attention to myself will make me a better woman, wife, mother, friend and person.

I'm not perfect, but I'm feeling myself--and I'm not counting on others to do that for me. I simply don't have time.

The Game

  

My wonderful sister-friends continue to be inspired! I'm happy to share the latest inspired piece by my dear friend Jan. She raises some important points about what dating has morphed into--a game essentially--and exposes the inherent problems in the concept, especially for someone who's tired of playing. I encourage you to continue the discussion below. Enjoy and ponder!

~Moka B.

I was listening to a radio show this morning when the hosts started talking about “The Game” of dating.  The discussion revolved around how men and women should avoid showing too much interest initially in order to ultimately gain the interest of the other party.  As a single female who has had my fair share of unsuccessful attempts to develop a relationship with great eligible bachelors, I paid close attention to this discussion because it is a situation with which I am all too familiar.

From my widely varied and extensive dating experience, I’ve always been intrigued by the strong interest that I receive from men to whom I do not reciprocate the interest.  Contrarily, the men that I do show interest in do not express the same feelings towards me, or they show interest long after I've become disinterested (like 5 years later).

I perceive The Game as actions--or should I say ‘a lack of actions’--that essentially require one to avoid taking action and to avoid appearing too interested in the other party. Some of the rules of The Game include waiting on the man to make the first call, never contacting him twice in a row without a response to my previous contact attempt, waiting on him to ask me out for both the first and second date before initiating a date, being the one to end conversations on the phone, not being too available, avoiding long text responses, etc. (You get the point)…In order to be a good player, I must do these things despite my innermost desires to do the opposite.  Hence, by properly managing my lack of interest, I should be able to keep the man interested long enough to actually get to know me better and not be turned off by my interest in him.  It’s funny how being interested in someone is actually a turnoff.

There’s one trick: during my game-restricted and limited time with my potential match, I must establish a connection and attract him.  The one assumption is that this man would be otherwise attracted and interested in me if he was not turned off by my expression of interest and availability.  All I’m essentially trying to do by playing The Game is buy more time and allow him to judge me for who I am and not perceive me as being desperate, demanding, or lonely.  Don’t ask me why breaking any of The Game rules I mentioned above is perceived as desperate, demanding, or lonely because I have no idea.  I probably wouldn't be writing this blog if I knew. ;-)

Maybe it is true that withholding my interest initially may be beneficial.  After all, I want to be pursued and I wouldn't want my interest to get in the way of his opportunity to show me who he really is and what he wants from me.

Maintaining my attractiveness and attraction to a man while being uninterested and unavailable at the same time is a challenging concept and an act that I have not yet mastered.  If I'm acting uninterested and unavailable then it is probably because I'm actually uninterested and I'd rather not be available to spend time with you.  I find it difficult to be honest and genuine when I’m putting up a front and playing hard to get.  I mean, once I get in a relationship I’ll be breaking all those rules anyway.  So why front now?  Just so I can be accused of “changing” later?  What do you think?

~Jan

The Handshake of Trust

I don’t quite remember how it goes, but it was a left-handed shake that involved a lot of finger work and even a little thumb war. After having matched wits with my hubby, a regular occurrence, he says, “OK, let’s do the Handshake of Trust.” I follow his lead through the complicated, made-up maneuver, all the while laughing my behind off. It was one of those silly moments that make our marriage fun.

I’m still a matrimonial novice—just celebrated four years!—but I do know that marriage takes work. Any married person will attest to this. It’s not always lovey-dovey fun and games, and bills, jobs, emergencies, children, and life make stuff get real—really real. How that realness works out, however, largely depends on who you marry, in my humble opinion.

I just happened to marry my best friend, and he still manages to surprise me with his ideas, creativity, and silliness. “You’re really weird” is one of my daily remarks to him. But he also gets on my doggone nerves sometimes—love you, babe! *MUAH*—and we both have to find ways to let off steam. Again, any married person can attest to this realness.

I think life’s realness also works out in a marriage depending on the “character” of the two people in it. For instance, my hubby and I are two creative, silly people, so our interactions (on a good day) are characterized by creativity and silliness. It’s why a Handshake of Trust can crop up in an otherwise ordinary conversation and why my hubby laughs at me Every. Single. Day. And I have friends whose relationships have completely different characteristics. The commonality is commitment, though.

As my girl Quisha and I were just discussing recently, so many people get married because they’re in love—I know I was head-over-heels when I got hitched. We’re not that old, still twenty-something, but we know that too many marriages have been done in by the myth that “love will keep us together.” After tossing around the idea, Quisha and I came to the conclusion that some of this disillusionment can be avoided with a reality check: a beautiful wedding has no bearing on the marriage, marriage is not easy, and love alone will not make it work. Commitment is the glue that keeps it together.

What does commitment look like? Well, I’d love to get my J. grandparents’ perspective on this. They just celebrated sixty-four years of marriage—a lifetime!—so I’m sure they can preach on this. (Note to self: ask Grammy and Granddad about this.) From my measly four years, I can say it looks like remaining a team in the midst of financial disagreements, illness, emotional strain, journeys to self-discovery and job uncertainty, along with date nights, dinner at home, impromptu dance sessions and silly little moments involving silly little handshakes.

I won’t even presume to know all the reasons some people’s marriages end. Sometimes it has to be done; sometimes it doesn’t. As a novice, I have more faith than experience: faith that commitment is the glue that will keep mine together. Matrimonial veterans, whatcha got for us babies?

With that, I’ll close with a song I’ve been playing a lot lately, Ella Fitzgerald’s rendition of “Wait Till You See Her,” because the hubby has inspired it in my mind these past few days:

Wait till you see him, see how he looks. Wait till you hear him laugh. Painters of paintings, writers of books never could tell the half. Wait till you feel the warmth of his glance, pensive and sweet and wise: all of it lovely, all of it thrilling. I’ll never be willing to free him. When you see him, you won’t believe your eyes. You won’t believe your eyes.