kissing toads

the type of people we are attracted to says a lot about who we are and where we are in our life.

not all the people we are attracted to or that we attract are suitable for lasting relationships. it is tempting to act on our instant attractions but the past has shown us that the result isn’t often in our best interests, won’t get us what we want or will not allow for our needs to be met.

some of us have a hard time seeing what is right in front of us. we are blinded by projections, urges or wishful thinking.

it is important to see who someone is today, and not be seduced by their potential. it is essential to see clearly without rationalizing, explaining or analyzing what someone does, says or how they make us feel.

sometimes this process is slow and frustrating. it can be seductive to follow our instincts, our chemistry and repeat unhealthy compulsions but we are learning from our mistakes and trying to alter our self-sabotaging patterns.

looking for what is good for us is a clue. being with people that make us feel valuable, meaningful and cherished…without strings or conditions. the more we learn to respect and care for ourselves, the more naturally we will find ourselves attracting people that reflect that genuinely back to us.

love is not a magic wand. kissing toads does not turn them into princes. many of us have been taught that we were only deserving of love if we acted a certain way, did certain things or just tried harder…this is not true. the more we work through these issues, the less we will need to reenact them in our relationships. as we learn to believe we are worthy of being loved, the more we will find love that is worth our while.

* photo credit: doris day and brian keith "with six you get eggroll"

schlaf schön

crawling into bed at night, reflecting back over the events of the day, it is easy to fixate on the missteps, the gaffes, the frustrations.

while it is important to take stock and admit our mistakes, own up to our faults, it is equally important to take credit for our success, celebrate a kindness or just acknowledge a moment of growth.

with one eye taking a critical view, remember to use the other eye to gaze lovingly upon us.

excuse me miss...

i consider myself a very funny person. in fact, i doubt anyone thinks i am funnier than i do. often though, what i find amusing goes over like a lead balloon.

for a few months now i have been running into this same guy in my neighborhood. we have an innocent game of street-flirting, you know, checking each other out,  holding a gaze just a second too long, smiling in check-out lines… the usual harmless and low-risk stuff.

this week i ran into him at the trader joe’s. parenthetical hint to all single hetero men out there (although double parenthetical, how you would be reading this blog is beyond me but here goes…) if you are looking to date do two things: yoga and shop at the trader joe’s. i digress…so i ran into this man at the market and we engaged in our game with our usual smiles.  

i went about my business of shopping and once finished, i made my way to the check-out lane. my fellow flirter followed suit, stood very close behind me and after swiftly surveying my cart, full of single portion pre-made Indian meals, shortbread, frozen vegetables, cheap rosé and chocolates, i can only assume his confidence was bolstered by my obviously-single-girl items, he leaned over to me, very near to my ear and quietly said,

“so, do i get more than a smile outta you now that we’re so close?”

to which i replied looking him squarely in the eye with a grin

“what? are you planning on pulling your pants down in this line or something?”

he visibly paled.

i thought it was very funny and frankly, very quick for me…but he was definitely not laughing. he was clearly rattled. either he was actually thinking what i said in jest or i just went too far. most likely, a little of both. he stood, wide-eyed and stunned as i was summoned to the next open lane.

Next indeed…

solidaritet är sexigt

at heart, i consider myself a girls-girl. i prize my girlfriends and cherish my female relationships. in high school, my best friend, Stina, and i were inseparable. we lived “pretty little liars” style, blurring the lines between days and nights, her house and mine. no boy came between us. ever. we included others hosting big slumber parties. a treasured ritual i carried on in college. sometimes thirty girls packed into our sprawling State Street apartment. we stayed up all night, nibbling and giggling and sharing. those moments are among my most cherished.

i grew up in a bubble where female relationships were sacred, where strong women were revered and respected. above all, i was taught and believed in solidarity.

when i moved to DC as an adult, i was blindsided by a totally new (to me) female dynamic that was catty, competitive and driven by a quest for men. how totally bizarre i found it! i was beyond bewildered. i was dumbstruck. girls blatantly hit on my boyfriend in front of me, ignored me in their efforts to talk to him or were snippy and snooty to my face. i was totally unprepared for this world where women were not automatically comrades-in-arms. it made me sad and tired. i began to refuse invitations to parties and grew weary when going to the ones i did attend. i had never played this game and i wasn’t prepared for it and i certainly wasn’t going to engage.

it took me a long time to develop close female friends here. then, many of them dissolved as our lives progressed and marriage became the next step, followed by children and all the natural life stages that keep us busy in our advancing age. maintaining those friendships has taken on a different rhythm. one that moves in fits and bursts, punctuating the over-scheduled life of a dual-career-couple-with-kids. as i am still single, i am trying to expand my circle with new women and i am feeling some of the same things i felt when i moved here many years ago.

often, i find, women don’t like me. it baffles me very much and hurts me a little too. i am in no way threatening or unwelcoming. i make direct eye contact and smile warmly when i introduce myself at parties and gatherings…and invariably the women step a little closer to their boyfriends or slink away…off to survey the room for …men? i don’t know what, but they are not interested in me.

i have never had the marriage/man-panic i witnessed in so many of my friends in our thirties. i don’t know why but i have never felt a paucity of available men. nor have i ever gone out looking for them. when i go out to a party or meet friends at a bar, i am there to be with my friends or to have interesting party banter. there is something very sad-making to me about surveying a room for available men. i have always found that there is reliably some guy or other that will pop into your life. my mormor always told me…men are like buses; if you miss this one, there’s another one just ten minutes down the road; any of them will take you pretty much to the same place. i believed her. and just like waiting for the bus, i am calm in the certainty that i know where i am going and the bus will arrive in time to get me there. i just don’t see why i shouldn’t be friendly with everyone else waiting for that bus. 

*photo rebecca and fiona grona lund via f***yeahrebeccafiona

oranges and peaches

do you remember that great scene in "party girl" when parker posey’s mary misunderstands a library patron requesting darwin? it went something like….

oranges and peaches? i’m not sure we have “oranges and peaches” but…

no dear, corrects her mother’s friend, the head librarian, origin of species, the cornerstone of evolutionary thought?

mary’s disgusted sigh and eye roll perfectly captures her exasperation for being taken as a fool. it certainly is not the case that she is unfamiliar with darwin, it is just not in her frame of reference…yet…

context is everything. dealing effectively with problematic situations takes practice and tools. this is especially true within an emotional context.

not a month passes without someone questioning my profession. therapy is still held as a little suspect. more than a few dismiss it is needless, useless, ineffective or whatever dismissive adjective they stumble on…that’s ok. it is not my job to defend psychology or even therapy. what i often say to nay-sayers is something i remind my clients when they are in the midst of a struggle.

is it any wonder we need some support, some training, some basic instruction to navigate our emotional lives? only in the last few hundred years has our species had the luxury of having an emotional life. only until very recently homo sapiens were limited to fending off pillages by visigoths, prey to animal predators or deathly vulnerable to simple tooth decay. it was not so long ago we lived in caves! relatively speaking, the kind of emotional and mental complexity we experience in our current life is very new to humankind, let alone the person sitting on the couch across from me in my office.

so it comes as no surprise to me that it is not always natural or effortless to manage every emotional sensation, occurrence or life stage without encountering struggle or confusion. it is no surprise that humankind has yet to perfect ways of coping; that egos and id (new new new concepts!) run amok and our metaphoric hearts have yet to grow armor.

evolution- it is a collective process and a lengthy one at that. i like to believe we are simply evolving as a species one session at a time.

*photo credit "party girl" via f***yeahparkerposey

my closet, my self

there is a great article in today’s NY Times about our relationship with certain clothing brands. how we identify with a brand, our attachment to our clothes; essentially how our wardrobe is an elemental extension of our bodies themselves.

i have had many brandfriends. my most intimate has probably been with 3.1 phillip lim. from his very first collection in 2005, i felt an immediate affinity with his aesthetic. his clothes were not even the most flattering for my body type but there was something visceral that spoke to me…spoke directly and clearly to my ideas about myself. apart from the image i saw projected in his clothes, there was also the tactile thrill of his luxe fabrics and incredible craftsmanship. in those early days, the quality was unparalleled at that price-point.

my obsession was at its apex with his rosette dress in his spring 2006 collection. i saw the runway photographs months before the dress hit the stores. i was absolutely obsessed. i tore out each picture and went directly to the only store in town that carried him at the time. there was a waiting list! are you freaking kidding me??? luckily i had a relationship with the store owner and i received first dibs on the dress! that’s right. i would be the first girl in town to even touch it, let alone wear it. my thrill was peaking.

after anxious weeks, i got the call. it was in! i ran to the store, my frenzy rising with each step. dashing into the changing room, i ran my trembling hands over the white sculpted roses and tried it on eagerly and to my horror it looked gruesome. i mean awful. like a lumpy sack on my short frame. i shed actual tears. how could he, my trusted love phillip, betray my lust? my girlfriend that worked at the shop looked at me with genuine sympathy. she saw at once all my visions of walking the city that summer in my ode-to-cannes-nonchalance dissipating with my tears. she put a reassuring hand on my shoulder and said gently and softly, “let’s try it in black…” mercifully, she was right. it was perfect!

i returned home victorious and euphoric in only the way a perfect dress purchase can make you feel. there was still an early spring chill in the air. i couldn’t wear it yet. when it finally warmed sufficiently to make its glorious debut…over my head it went. i paired it with a perfect chunky bronze heel from marc jacobs, my trusted gold hoops, a heavy gold-link bracelet and felt like a vision in chic. beaming, i hurried down seven flights of stairs to meet my boyfriend in my courtyard.

"what do you think?” i asked

“ummmm…” he stammered

“isn’t it divine? perfect in every possible way, right?”

“you know it’s not sexy, right?” his words slow and careful

impatiently i replied “it isn’t supposed to be sexy. it’s beyond sexy. it’s intelligent!”

“intelligent, huh? well, then that is the smartest fucking dress i have ever seen!”

not an endorsement clearly, but i didn’t care. my shop-girlfriend was right. it was everything i wanted in simple-chic. and practically she was correct too. i have worn that dress more than any other and the black is still perfect, un-yellowed as the white no doubt would have become and just as blissful as the day i bought it. best $500 i ever spent.

that boyfriend has long since vanished but phillip is still my most reliable brandfriend. real love endures indeed…

 *photo via style.com

direct line

some conversations are hard to have. it would be great if people could read our minds and we could avoid uncomfortable confrontation, but that just isn’t possible. dropping hints and vague suggestions only serves to heighten the tension. being direct, simple and straightforward is the generally most effective even if not the easiest way to send a message.

we can ask for what we want. we can set boundaries. we can tell people how we really feel.

we don’t need to fix people with words. we shouldn’t expect their words to fix us. we don’t have to engage in nonsense or power struggles.

we can simply express how we feel, what we want, what we need…and demand the same of others.

we can be tactful but direct. we can speak clearly but with compassion. we can avoid manipulations or guilt. we can be assertive and still be gentle and kind.

communication is a skill. sometimes it comes to us naturally, other times we must work at it. speaking up or speaking our mind often delivers, but sometimes we must settle for being heard. sometimes we don’t like what we hear, but we still must listen with respect and care. when we are hurt or disappointed, being honest about that may be hard but it is better than letting it come out in other passive or destructive ways. sometimes we are unsure what we want or how we feel. that is okay. we can simply say just that…

we can ask for more information, use conversation to forge intimate bonds, but we must be careful not to talk something to death or coerce someone with our words.

most of all, we must be truthful and respectful. that is the best way to communicate our feelings, needs and desires.

girl gone wild

spring has really sprung and there is mischief in the air! my clients are all talking about misbehaving and naughty cravings...what can i tell them? it is the natural rhythm of the season...after being tucked away all winter, we want sunshine and light and often that dissolves into starry nights lit up with vice.

be safe and be wise...enjoy the pleasures of the season...

life lesson

accusations are often thinly veiled confessions...

have you ever been in that situation? starting out evenly matched in a discussion and then suddenly you are on the defensive, cornered and confused because a weighty accusation has been leveled at you seemingly out of nowhere.

   are you cheating? why would you say that? liar!

   do you want to break up with me? i didn’t even intimate it! jesus- you’re breaking up with me!

   don’t you love me anymore? of course i love you; why would you  even ask that? you don’t love me anymore!

i bet you know the feeling…  you are having a normal conversation and things begin to feel not normal and then the next thing you know you are arguing and defending something totally preposterous. instead of lightly rehashing the party you just came home from, you are twilight deep into an all-nighter-woody-allen-style relationship analysis.

what the what? how did this happen?

ask a simple question and get an accusation? well, congratulations. you have probably just gotten an answer to a question you weren’t even sure you were asking.

when someone accuses us of something that is just not in the usual realm of possibilities, you can bet you just heard a confession...

“everyone behaves badly--given the chance.” 

                                                                                -ernest hemingway, the sun also rises

riding the waves

a few years ago i was vacationing in the outer banks in north carolina (i love it there by the way…) and as is not terribly uncommon, a hurricane began to brew out at sea. at first it made for great surfing and wave riding but then things got a little rougher. the day before they evacuated the area, my boyfriend and i scoffed at their warnings and went out in the water.

it was so much fun! the waves were high and we floated up and down riding them further and further out. soon we knew it was wiser to return to the shore…things were getting rough. but when i tried to swim back in, i kept getting pulled out. i couldn’t make any progress…i was stuck. my boyfriend told me to dive through the waves and let them pull me in and so when the crest was behind me, under i dove. i expected to come out a little closer to shore, instead the undertow yanked me down with force and suddenly i was being tossed and thrown below. i couldn’t see and i couldn’t get up for air. i was scared and flailing around under water. i wasn’t strong enough for the undertow that the storm created. and so…  i let go…

i continued to toss under the waves, but before i knew it i was thrown onto the beach. Thrown. my bikini bottoms were no longer on my bottom and i was splayed out like a dead pelican, but i could breathe. my boyfriend gaped at me wide eyed while i was flattened and spit out like sea weed…then we just started laughing. i pulled up my shorts while choking on salt water and we stared out at the rising tide as i caught my breath…that was all the swimming we did that day.

sometimes surrender doesn’t mean giving up. sometimes surrender can just mean acceptance. we can spend a lot of energy fighting what we can’t control and we can’t conquer. not every battle is meant to be fought. resisting doesn’t change events or circumstances; it just fuels frustration and resentment. surrendering or accepting doesn’t mean losing or taking abuse, it just means being honest about what is and isn’t in our control and making the best of it. working with the tide instead of swimming against it brings us back to safety and under our own influence and rule.