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What’s the Expiration Date on Love?

  • December 30, 2010 at 7:41 am

Yesterday, it got cold in Phoenix. Having lived in Western New York for 12 years, this wasn’t “cold” in that sense, but 40s and 50s in Phoenix are rare, so the weather prompted me to pull out my scarf. This is a beautiful cashmere Pendleton scarf that the first love of my life gave me as a first gift (either at Christmas or my birthday) back in 1998. Every time I pull out that scarf, I am reminded of Shawn and the surprise I had at receiving the gift, as well as the love in that relationship and the shock in how it ended.

The same wave of emotions overtakes me nearly every time I exchange my son with my ex-husband (the second love of my life). And the truth of the matter is that I still love both of these men—and I know that I always will. That leads me to wonder if that’s true for others and, if not, is there an expiration date on love?

Granted, once a relationship ends—whether through a break-up or death—the love is not available on a 24/7 basis, but does that mean it goes away? My theory may differ from others, but I find it challenging to believe that one can just turn love on or off like a faucet. Even if you just “love” another, rather than being “in love,” that feeling lingers as well, although much less intensely.

What I do believe is that the depth of love does fade in time. In my rudimentary calculations, it’s roughly equal to half the length of the relationship, although it can sometimes be intense enough to last as long as the relationship did. I feel it’s definitely important to come to some conclusion with one relationship before embarking on another, which I too often see people not doing—either consciously or subconsciously. A good indicator of lack of closure is jumping from one relationship to the next quickly or talking a lot about how wonderful the old relationship was, in a longing sense.

I’m curious to hear your thoughts on this topic. Feel free to leave a comment below.

Spin Another DiSC

  • December 21, 2010 at 8:10 am

I recently started working with a business coach, Jeff Orr. We have an unconventional partnership—probably since we’re exchanging services—so our conversations go all over the place. At our last meeting, I was sharing with him some work I’d done through the Referral Institute of Arizona on my target market, part of which discussed the way in which we relate to others based on our DiSC assessments. I am mostly I (influential) with a strong secondary D (dominant) and touches of S (steady). I’m not at all C (conscientious). However, looking back at men I’ve dated/married, they all fall in the bottom of the spectrum (S/C).

I told Jeff that I’m not looking for an S or C; instead, I want someone with a higher D than I have, along with some touches of I. He was perplexed. He pointed out that I come off as very confident and self-assured, so he wouldn’t have thought I would want a man to take care of me. Aha! That’s the rub! When people first meet me, they see the I followed by D, and the S comes out much later. We typically meet up on the I, and then they see the D and figure I’m the one in charge. If this all happens quickly, I end up dating an S or C.

Essentially, the men in my life have bought something based on the look of the packaging and haven’t opened the box before settling in. Which means that my relationships have been doomed.

As a business owner and single mom, I have to be a D in many aspects of my life, so I’m not even sure how to advertise that I want a man who is a higher D than I am. In fact, I’m not sure that I’ve even met any high D’s who aren’t complete and total dicks. As the leader of Referral Institute (a D/I female) points out of her S husband, “There’s nothing sexier than a man who wants to take care of his woman.” Sure, yeah, I get that, but to take care of me, he needs to be stronger and take charge. Where are those men?

The Power of a Healed Heart

  • December 9, 2010 at 10:33 am

This morning, when my ex-husband came to pick up my son, he told me that he and his girlfriend of 1 1/2 years are engaged. Although I was surprised, I didn’t break down in tears, get angry, or even feel hurt. In the past, any kind of news about him would cause a hole in my heart to ache—but that didn’t happen this time. The hole isn’t there anymore. My heart is mended.

Although I am thinking about the situation, it’s from the perspective of someone who is not emotionally involved and only Patrick’s mother. I wonder how Patrick will respond. I wonder how I would tell Patrick about this if I were engaged. I wonder if their relationship will work and what that divorce will do to Patrick. I wonder how the marriage will affect my ex’s stance on parenting. All of these things have to do with my son and his well being; they don’t concern how I feel about my ex-husband.

I guess that’s what time and HAVING to interact with my ex means. The other time I was in love, I was devastated when I found out that he had married. Granted, I didn’t cry or anything, as years had passed, but I still had that deep heart hurt. With that situation, there was no closure and no explanation. Here, though, we’ve been separated 2 1/2 years, divorced for nearly a year, and he’s been dating her for 1 1/2 years. It’s not a big surprise.

Shockingly, I’m not even jealous. I am so happy with my life now and my business has picked up 100% in the past month so money is flowing. I am excited about the Christmas holiday coming up and sharing it with my son and my friends. I am full. I long for very little, and one of those things is not a partner. I am whole and complete as the single mom of Patrick.

Growth is a wonderful thing. I am so thankful for all that I have learned and continue to learn on this exciting journey of life—with a mended heart that’s looking toward the future.

Reclaiming Memories

  • December 4, 2010 at 10:32 am

When a breakup, death, or other major ending occurs, you are left with the memories. In fact, a current song, “Breakeven” by The Script, really covers the topic of how things aren’t equal at the end of a relationship.

One of the hardest things that the heartbroken person has to face is revisiting places where s/he went with a lover. Ghosts and memories abound, and they can make it hard to move forward. During the hardest days following my separation, a friend and I were talking about just this topic. She said she made it a habit to go to those places she had been with exes to reclaim them as her own. It’s a great point and there’s definitely something empowering in claiming that memory and saying it has no power over you.

For me, the hardest part has always been how to distinguish the great memories from the bad. I think our hearts tend to only see the good for a while, and questions often linger. My heart has been broken twice; one was much harder because I had already moved away and he’d only been there a couple of times. The second time, however, I lived in the home we had and I had this great son who, of course, reminded me of his dad.

The next question (for me, at least) is: how long do you grieve after a relationship ends? I am sure it’s different after a death, and I am thankful to have never lost someone I loved in that way. But what about after a breakup? I think that, if you’re in love, that love never dies. It morphs and becomes less of a pull on your heart, but it’s there forever. It was nearly five years after my first heartbreak before I was really feeling whole again. In the next case, I’m at about the 2 1/2-year mark, and some things still weigh on me.

I think part of the healing process—whether it’s been five days or 10 years—is to really go out and make peace with those memories. Visit the places you frequented with your love and make them your own. Build new memories. If you need to take some time to remember the good things, do that, but don’t spent too much time there. Life awaits and the future holds so much promise. Live it.

Confessions of a worrywart

  • December 2, 2010 at 8:12 am

One thing I’m really good at—or bad about, depending on your perspective—is worrying. I worry about things that will happen, that might happen, and that will never happen. Worrying keeps me awake at night and haunts my days. In fact, as a teenager, I nearly developed an ulcer with all my worrying.

When I was a kid, my stepfather gave me some sage advice about worrying. “Can you change it?” he asked. In that case, my answer was, “No.” His smart reply? “Then stop worrying about it.”

That helped for a bit, especially since those worrisome events of an adolescent really aren’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. But now I’m an adult, a mom, and a business owner. I have big issues.

In Landmark Education, one saying is that, in order to live big, you have to have big problems. I must be living an extraordinarily large life, in that case. My worries are not about forgetting to take out the trash; I worry about providing my son with a memorable holiday season or maintaining my home and car as my business falters.

In those times when I am most troubled by the “what if” scenarios that play in my head, I take a deep breath and continue to practice gratitude. I am thankful for what I have, even if I long for much more. I am so very grateful for the people in my life, most of whom provide support and answers when I have big questions I cannot handle alone. Although those things don’t make the worry disappear, they do make it much more bearable and put things into better perspective.