if the shoe doesn't fit

when we were little, we had frequent growth spurts. one day our shoes fit, the next they were too small. our growth was physical as well as developmental.

now that we are adults, growth may not be as visible as getting too tall for our trousers. sometimes we outgrow relationships, careers, feelings and attitudes. this can be as confusing as waking up to shoes that don’t fit they way they did the day before. sometimes we may keep trying to squeeze ourselves into that dress, that job, that friendship or that belief…but it just doesn’t feel the same. what was once cozy now chafes. it just doesn’t fit us anymore.

just like when we were little - we have grown. as sad as it is to realize things we loved are no longer suitable for us, it is a sign of our continual evolution. it is okay to grieve for what we once cherished but is no longer so special or no longer works for us. It is also okay to want to put them aside and move on to what feels better for us today.

wrap up what doesn’t fit. say goodbye with love and respect for the role that these people, places, ideas and objects have played in your life. appreciate what they have done to help you get to where you are today. put away what doesn’t suit you and make room for the new.

*photo: walt disney's cinderella

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.

lip smacker

my mother did not wear makeup when i was growing up. although the mid-seventies, for some, were equated with glamourous high gloss lips, contoured blush and aqua net…my sensible swedish mother eschewed the artifice in favor of a more natural, earthy sensibility. one that also rejected synthetic fabrics and orange drinks made popular by astronauts.

both my grandmothers wore makeup. differently from each other, to be sure, but that is how I understood makeup; it was the markings of an individual. a way to enhance or create your idea of self; whether it be a signature or a mood, it was part of a work in progress.

i loved everything about makeup. the packaging, the colors, the smells and textures of powders and creams. i was dying for the day i could wear makeup. like so many girls before me, my early days wearing makeup were garish and exaggerated. i wore my mask of adulthood thickly and aggressively. blue and gold on my lids, glittering at 7am in homeroom, i forced my blinks to stay closed a second too long lest someone miss the masterpiece slathered on my lids.

i loved colors then, and really still love them now. i remember when i first read a blurb in a vogue essay deriding “midwestern blue shadowed lids”, i stopped confused…wait…is blue eye shadow bad? is midwestern (as i am) also seen as a detractor? how was i to know that?

i am still quite loyal to my blue lids. my green, purple and gold lids too, depending on my mood, my outfit, the season, my tan etc. i have never paid heed to make up trends or fashion. i just like to paint and painting requires color.

we always see these vivid colors in editorial. why is everyone so afraid to use them in life? if they brighten the pages of a magazine, wouldn’t they have the same effect in our real life?

i live in a quiet and rather dull mid atlantic city known for its fashion conservatism. i recently cut my long blonde hair in the fashion of jean seberg and instantly rendered myself simultaneously disturbing and invisible and yet obtrusive all at once. i love it. it draws attention to my robin egg blue eye lids all the better.

*photo credit linde evangelista, via weheartit.com

hey mr. dj...

we all have a life soundtrack. not just our Spotify account or our Pandora stream, but a real soundtrack. think about a time and place in your life and i am sure you know exactly what you were listening to at that moment.

in high school and college, each heartbreak i suffered was accompanied by weeks of the Supremes, then tossing in some Ronettes as the pain subsided and then getting back to whatever dance track (“Crucified”, anyone?) was hot hot hot then. the one exception being my very first heartache, when i spent a long weekend alternating between watching "A Room With a View” and blasting Puccini’s "La Bohème" on my vacationing parents' stereo. my poor little brother had a kegger in mind, but my despair destroyed any chance of that…he fled to a friend’s house to leave me wallow in my adolescent agony.

i have spent hours exhausting anguish to the thrash of Minneapolis’ holy trinity of Husker Dü, the Replacements and Soul Asylum. in college i would get dressed to go out jamming to the Clash’s “Train in Vain”; later replaced by Britney and other mindless pop that i came to love as i grew out of my indie obsessed youth and just wanted to feel good. Jay-Z’s “Give It To Me” will still get me moving no matter where i am…cleaning the house falls to Motown and vintage Little Stevie Wonder...and the time i fell in love the hardest my sister threatened to smash my cd single of Madonna’s “Don’t Tell Me” remixes…i had a song for every single moment and i played the hell out them.

this is the first time i am unsure what i want to hear. obviously, when i am walking the streets or getting ready to go out, Robyn and Rebecca Fiona are what i am rocking on my iPod…but i spend most of my time engaged in other things. my life is in an uncomfortable place, my emotions are strange and unfamiliar to me…i have never been here before and i don’t know what the defining song is.

as a therapist/trainer, i spend much of my time listening to others. when i am alone, i often crave silence most, but sometimes that is just creepy. classical music fills that void. it soothes me and often moves me. it encourages held back tears to fall and can make me skip with joy. this is a thorny time in my life and my moods are unsteady…some days i just cannot bear words but i need something in the air around me.  

chains that bind

admit it, we’ve all played this game…

it stars out harmlessly with someone unsuitable/inappropriate/or similar expressing admiration/affection/desire/ or similar and we’re naturally flattered.

it feels good and it appears safe to accept. and what is there to fear anyway? there is, of course, no chance of anything real developing with someone so clearly unsuitable/inappropriate/ or similar.

but our acquiescence is a powerful message however passive it may be; we accept and this excites and encourages our suitor. upping the ante is the response and maybe we continue to accept. we laugh at it but still it is titillating, enjoyable, ego-boosting and still safe…so we engage in “harmless” flirting.

but there is a pit in our stomach, a drop in our heart… we are playing…

now we are jerking the chain…and let’s face it, in the games of love and sex, jerking someone’s chain can be fun…

the ante continues to rise and we stay in the game but you can only play for so long until you wake up one morning underneath this totally unsuitable/inappropriate person attached to the chain.

you knew better but what could you do? this poor s.o.b just liked you so much, wanted you so badly and hell, was even very funny…now you feel guilty, so maybe you continue so you don’t hurt their feelings.

you remember why you felt your stomach sinking at the start because now you are chained to the jerk whose chain you were jerking!

the upper hand is all about perspective. sometimes we lose strength by flexing certain muscles.

this is the very real risk of jerking the chain…

*photo still from belle du jour, luis buñuel

et tu, brutus?

they smile in your face, but all the while they want to take your place, the back stabbers...
                                                    the o'jays

some of the ties that bind us to our friends are our shared secrets and insider jokes; episodes or incidents that we have experienced with each other. knowing we have these in common makes us feel close and give us a sense of belonging.

sometimes when someone feels lonely, they may believe they are alone. this feeling of isolation can incite insecurity. often when we feel insecure, we are desperate to claw our way back to feeling welcome and loved. what better way than to share a secret...reveal something juicy...encourage interest and maybe even admiration from those around us. a tidbit of gossip sometimes seems like an easy ticket to the party.

the problem is that gossip is a cheap way to gain entré and more often than not it is an illusory one. friends bound by gossip and malice are not genuine or true. tables turn and power changes hands. don't be surprised if the knife in your back once belonged to you...

***photo credit: george cukor, the women

e=mc2

sometimes time moves so slowly and we ache to get on with it. sometimes time moves so quickly, we are left stunned to catch our breath and absorb what just happened. time is relative.

when we want something, time can be painful. we can be anxious, angry or full of fear while we wait for something we want to come to us. crossing out days on a calendar, tapping our feet with frustration, snapping our fingers to get someone's attention. trying to control what cannot be controlled.

when we are patient, we can see the horizon. we notice what is unfolding around us and we can be prepared.
everything comes in its own time. sometimes we are ready, sometimes we are surprised. either way, it is happening...now.

there is no reality in tomorrow or even yesterday. they are as a dream...hopes or regrets...sweet memories or anxieties...they are unreal. real is now. right where you are...what are you doing with it?

***matisse, the acrobats

equality

fem·i·nism   

/ˈfɛməˌnɪzəm/ noun 

the doctrine advocating social, political, and all other rights of women equal to those of men.

 internationella kvinnodagen

supersisters

with respect to march being women’s history month i want to start a new post thread honoring a woman worth notice and admiration.

when i was little and just starting to read, my mother enthusiastically encouraged and supported me and she worked especially hard to introduce important women in my reading selections. by the time i was ready to start school, i had already ripped through all the books our public library held devoted to the toddler women’s studies offerings of of hellen keller, amelia earheart and my personal favorite nellie bly.

as years passed and i was left to re-read the same biographies over and over my mother’s frustration grew. she made sure i read "stories for free children" from her Ms. magazine every month, i already memorized "free to be…" where were are all the books about women?

and then she gave me supersister trading cards. from then on i drew from the pack and tracked down as much as i could about each amazing and accomplished woman. my own women’s studies 101 before i even finished montessori!

this week, i want to celebrate the first woman to really inspire my ardent attention and obsession…the amazing nellie bly…

learn a little about Nellie here

what i loved most were the chapters in her biographies when she went undercover in bellevue. i think she may have inspired my career in psychotherapy. an exciting pioneer, she meant the world to me as a little girl and her bravery and achievement deserves more attention that it receives.

*photo from nellieblyonline.com

mind your manners

i am always saying "glad to've met you" to someone i am not at all glad i met. 

if you want to stay alive, you have to say that stuff, though.

-jd salinger's holden caulfield,catcher in the rye

*photo breakfast at tiffany's

along the lines of courage

courage doesn't always roar.
 

sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying,  

"I will try again tomorrow."

                                             -mary anne radmacher

* painting more edvard munch

braving the blues

not every day is a good one. 

sometimes we just want to hide away, shirk responsibilities, stay in our pyjamas and lie around and wallow in our sorrows. sometimes as bad as this feels, it feels good to allow yourself to feel awful.

strength is not just about soldiering on in the face of adversity. there is courage in displaying your vulnerabilities. if you are feeling scared or blue or just floundering, it is okay to let people see that part of you. 

we are not judged by our loved ones in a single moment but rather in all our moments, good and bad, soft and hard, pretty and ugly. we are the sum of all these equal parts.

sometimes outside the sun is shining and the sky is clear blue, but inside us there is a tempest brewing…it may even feel like we are stuck under an umbrella of grey rain clouds that follows us around our day. courage is believing that even our storm will pass and we can and will get through this darkness and be all the happier for what lies ahead.

 

that is what I am telling myself today anyway...

*painting edvard munch girls on a bridge