Category Archives: marriage

The Perfect Couple….. Behind closed doors.

“In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.” 

~ Rumi

Thousands of moons ago, adorned with flowers and coconuts, our spirits collided in a most delicious way.

I was a child in the art of love…fearful, guarded, sassy.

You were all grown up, seeking to draw out the woman in me.

I left you so many times without your knowing. I would flee into fear during the night and return by morning, renewed in courage.

My mental bags were always packed. This our private joke.

Thousands of sunrises ago, we made the promise to align our paths and share this journey of love… the mermaid and the sailor.

Our love manifested two precious souls completing our little family.

I’ve loved you for nearly half my life, even when I’ve hated you.

You’ve shown me eternal love and patience, even when you’ve hated me.

Respect has never waned…. never deliberately cutting each other’s hearts, taking pieces away.

We leave each other whole, honouring what is sacred within us.

Our passions have brought us together and torn us apart.

You’ve honoured my need to swim away and explore the depths of my spirit, even when you feared I wouldn’t return.

You had faith I would return…. renewed, whole.

You’ve cherished me, tended to my wounds, encouraged my awakening.

I‘m reminded of the words of Rumi

“Set your life on fire. Seek those who fan your flames.”

You fan my flames. For this I will always be thankful.

Your strength and steady patience is my aspiration.

Your integrity is limitless. Your beauty awe-inspiring.

What seeds I must have planted to enjoy the splendour of your love….

I dedicate myself to always be worthy.

In ignorance, we’ve abandoned each other in moments of need.

Tantrums (always mine), anger, isolation, icy rivers separating us.

We’ve endured…. prevailed, grown stronger.

Every day I choose you. Every day I love you more and more.

Every day I aspire to love you with all the love that exists in the universe.

Many days I fail you. Some days we fail each other.

Life often gets in the way of our great love. We forget how rare and precious it is.

We choose distraction and worry… gratitude nowhere to be found.

But we always find our way back to each other.

Our commitment to this love is made again and again.

That’s the secret to everlasting joy…

To wake up and decide each morning to show up, be fully present and bask in the glory of love.

Our divinity will carry us into our next lives together, forever and ever.

Happy anniversary, my love.

Your crazy-ass wife, Jana 💝

Thank you Jeff.

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“I fell in love with you because of the million things you never knew you were doing.”   ~ Unknown ~

To my love….

Thank you for your eternal patience,

while I shift, shed, rage and morph into my true essence.

Thank you for your encouragement,

while I struggle to wash away ancient blood and wrong ideas about myself.

Thank you for your warm embrace,

while I cry and grieve the loss of my ego-self.

Thank you for your support,

while I repeatedly and powerfully crash-land trying out my new wings.

Thank you for your tireless efforts to hold it all together,

while I anxiously search for a new life’s purpose beyond motherhood.

Thank you for your stability,

while I move between anger and bliss like a toddler.

Thank you for your generosity,

even when I’m wallowing in self-cherishing.

Thank you for your brilliance,

while I grope in the darkness before my dawning.

Thank you for staying diligently with me on this journey toward awakening,

even when we sometimes lose sight of each other along the way.

Thank you for having faith in my strength and courage,

even when I doubt myself.

Your extraordinary greatness inspires me to grow into my own greatness.

The strength of your love breaks opens my fearful heart.

The equanimity of your being quells my restless and anxious spirit.

I’m filled with deep gratitude to have found my greatest love and teacher in you.

To be able to spend my life living and growing old with you is a most precious gift.

Thank you.

All my love, forever and ever,

Jana

Finding My Voice #metoo

Gaslighting: “A form of manipulation that seeks to sow seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or in members of a targeted group, hoping to make them question their own memory, perception, and sanity. Using persistent denial, misdirection, contradiction, and lying, it attempts to destabilize the target and delegitimize the target’s belief.”

As I begin to write this, I’m surprised to find how full of dread I am. I’ve never before spoken of this topic on a public level. There has been a lot of talk lately on social media about sexual abuse since the #metoo campaign began. My first reaction was to ignore it. I had recovered from my history of sexual abuse. It was done and dusted and all healed over. I wasn’t going to participate in this campaign by coming out as a victim too. I was a victim no more!

However, over the past several years, I was allowing a person in my life to slowly dig into my ancient scars. From the moment he came into our lives, I’ve disliked him. He makes condescending and sexist remarks designed to make you feel small and insignificant. He comments on how sexy you are and how lucky your husband is to have you in his bed, which on the surface looks like a compliment, but leaves you feeling icky and uncomfortable. He grabs your ass in a hello embrace. He grabs you from behind in a “playful” way and just misses your breasts. He talks incessantly about all the women he has sex with. Are we supposed to be impressed? All I feel is sick to my stomach. Suffice it to say, I believed this man to be a predator.

Although I didn’t like being around him, he was a good friend to the family, always there to lend a hand and help out when needed. Everyone else didn’t seem to mind him and thought it was all harmless behaviour from a lonely old man. I was advised to just ignore it. Whenever I talked about his behaviour, it was usually greeted with the eye rolling and deep sighs that said I was being ridiculous and over-reacting. The message was clear… my feelings weren’t valid. This is a lesson women are taught from early on. Our feelings are mostly invalid because they defy logic and rationality. If we can’t articulate our feelings in a way that makes perfect sense and present a case that removes all reasonable doubt, then our feelings simply don’t matter. And because of the systematic training of women to view this kind of behaviour from men as normal, we don’t even see it as abuse. Obviously I was just being over-sensitive. I began to doubt my own mind and overruled my instinct to punch him in the face. After all, he doesn’t mean anything by it. So, I just swallowed my feelings, did my best to be polite and ignored his behaviour like a good little girl.

Throughout my life I have been sexually violated, both subtly and violently. When I was a teenager, I was date-raped twice. I hate that term, date-rape. It’s a sugar-coated expression designed to make the rape seem less ugly. After all, I voluntarily agreed to go out with these men who I found attractive, so I must have wanted it on some level. If you’re on a date and you say no, and they rip your clothes off and rape you, well… you deserved it. Face it, they invested money in you by buying you dinner and drinks and it was the least you could do to repay them for their generosity. So, you don’t call the police. You don’t tell anyone. You just accept it as a really bad date. And later, when I did talk about it to others, I was often told that perhaps I wasn’t clear enough with these men and I should have fought harder. This was actually more brutal than the rapes because this is exactly what I had been telling myself. The ensuing shame was immense and all-consuming and I sought solace through drugs and alcohol. The body eventually heals, but the shame lives on in perpetuity. We live in a culture that still supports the idea that women are to blame for the actions of men who can’t be expected to control themselves, otherwise known as the Provocation Defense.

Recently, and rather unexpectedly, a sudden vitriol came to the surface as the old scars were ripped open. I was drowning in rage. I couldn’t sleep. I would lie in bed all night and cry. I couldn’t breathe at times. I tried, in vain, to talk about it, but couldn’t find my voice. I was yelling but not being heard. I felt all alone. I realised it was time to really talk about the abuse. I had talked about it before to friends and therapists, but I had recounted the stories in much the same way a historian tells them… from a detached and emotionless place. I was just outlining the facts as I recalled them. I had gone through the process of identifying the decisions I had made about myself at the time of the abuse and did my best to rewrite history by changing those old ideas into new and empowered ones. And I felt I had been successful. I had taken control of my life and felt strong and brave and free from my shameful past. But like an onion, another layer was peeled back, which revealed some significant residual pain. I clearly had more work to do. A close friend put it in perspective by asking me, “What would you say if this was happening to me? What would you tell me to do?” I didn’t hesitate! I knew exactly what I would say to her.

It was time to extract this predator from my life. My Dharma teachings, along with my teacher’s voice in my head, were telling me to find patience and compassion in my heart and mind, but also to remember it’s imperative we surround ourselves with fellow seekers of truth and love, not those that promote hatred and division.  Why had I waited so many years before exposing the whole truth? I know why…. because of shame and distrust in my feelings.

So, once again, it’s time for me to slow down and allow my feelings to come up and be experienced fully. I will sit with the discomfort and grieve for all the stolen moments and lost innocence. I will tend to the painful wounds that never fully healed. I vow to never again allow my feelings to go unchecked, unheard, unsupported. I will have more faith in myself and will honour my truth. I will reach out and open up more and not hide my feelings away like something ugly and shameful. I will not protect predators by making excuses for them. I will expose them to the light and banish them.  I will encourage others to come forward and share their stories so they, too, can let go of the shame.  And maybe, just maybe, we can put a stop to this abuse once and for all.

Namaste. 🕉

A Change of Scenery


“The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle.” ~ Anais Nin ~

For me, the dream is always travel. I have a wicked case of wanderlust that never seems to be fully satisfied.  I’m always in the process of planning another trip.  It makes the day-to-day stuff easier to manage.  How to create magic in the mundane is the key….

Most of my time is spent being pulled in a million directions by all the things I want to do, both personally and professionally.  My husband and I are very ambitious and have a highly successful professional life.  We invest and manage our portfolio well. We give as much of our time and money as we can spare to various charitable organisations. We spend a lot of time on our individual pursuits, which include recreation, personal and professional development and at least twice a week we go on dates to make sure we stay connected as a couple. We ensure we hang out with our kids as much as they will allow (they’re teenagers after all) and we make time for play. 

My life is extraordinarily abundant, yet I always manage to get way off balance somewhere along the way, and then find I’m breaking apart.  Then, when I’m travelling, I’m able to put it all back together again.  How do I go about bringing the “holiday” spirit into my day-to-day life to prevent the break down altogether?  I know it’s all about balance, but boy, do I struggle with this! What exactly happens while on holiday that enables the reconstruction process, seemingly without effort? The obvious answer is that no one is asking much of me. I get to meander through my day, no minute by minute schedule, no issues I need to address, no problems I need to solve, other than what do I feel like doing today?  Don’t get me wrong… I’m grateful for the ability to be able to handle as much as I do and be of benefit wherever I can, but I get worn out. In my most grouchy place, I feel like the more I give, the more gets asked of me. I think sometimes if others know someone is there to handle it, they don’t bother doing it themselves. This is especially true of my kids. Left to their own devices and they’re quite capable.  But when I’m around, they can’t remember their phone number….

My beloved teacher, Geshe-la, says that if my motivation is correct, I won’t run out of loving kindness and compassion.  I guess the trick is to look deeper into why I am doing whatever it is I’m doing on a day-to-day basis and see where I’m getting off track.  Where am I being self-cherishing (motivated by ego), fearful or dishonest? If I can uncover this and correct my motivation, this should enable me to keep my balance better.  Also, I need to be sure I’m setting good boundaries and saying no when I need to. Sounds like a piece of cake, eh?  Mmmmmm…. cake.

Over the years my husband and I have repeatedly found that when we “help” too much, we enable and cripple others. We need to be diligent on when to offer guidance and support and when to allow others the space to figure out and manage their own problems. It’s the process of trial and error that leads to good problem solving skills. We don’t need to be super heros in anyone’s lives. And this is where checking our motivation is helpful… ensuring we’re not feeding our egos and calling it help. 

So, going forward, my path is a little clearer now. I will slow down and create more space between my words and actions and ensure I have enough quiet time to meditate, reflect and recharge my batteries. I will allow myself and others the space to make mistakes and learn from them. I will cultivate emotional maturity and intelligence. I will diligently shut down my inner critic as soon as she pipes up. I will practise patience (I say practise because I’m no damn good at this).  I will monitor my motivation to ensure it’s pure and I will make more time for spirit-enhancing activities.  All the busy work manages to somehow get done. I don’t need to stress about it. The questions I need to ask myself often are, “Will this matter in a year, 3 years, 10 years? Will I regret doing this, or not having done this when I’m on my deathbed? If the answers are NO, then why worry about it? His Holiness, the Dalai Lama says, “If a problem is fixable, if a situation is such that you can do something about it, then there is no need to worry. If it’s not fixable, then there is no help in worrying. There is no benefit in worrying whatsoever.”

Good advice.

Om mani padme hum 🕉

3 Things To Stop Saying Sorry For…

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Saying you’re sorry and meaning it is a powerful tool in taking responsibility for the consequences of your actions. It relieves you of guilt and empowers forgiveness and change.

However, we’re often saying sorry just for speaking our truth. Women, in particular, are prone to this social conditioning.  We’re so afraid of being thought of as a selfish bitch or a nag,  we suppress our truth and do what those around us want or need, often at the expense of our spiritual, mental and physical health.

It’s time to stop being sorry and start taking care of ourselves.  If you believe that makes you selfish, it’s time to look at the definition of the word…

“Selfish:  seeking or concentrating on one’s own advantage, pleasure or well-being without regard for others.”

Taking care of yourself and making sure your needs are met is not selfish as long as you are not completely disregarding the needs of others. I’m suggesting you put on your own oxygen mask first before attempting to help others.  Remember, you can’t give what you don’t have.  So, if you’re running on fumes, or worse, collapse altogether, you’re no good to anyone, least of all yourself.  Why not leave the martyrdom to the experts…

Here are 3 things we need to STOP saying sorry for:

  1.  Taking time for yourself – Exercising, resting, reading, meditating, vegging out in front of a movie, hanging out with your friends, date night with your main squeeze, or any activity you enjoy are all perfectly acceptable to engage in without feeling guilty. Whatever feeds your soul and brings joy & bliss to your heart, needs to be included in your list of priorities.  Making yourself a priority will empower those around you to do the same, which benefits everyone;
  2. Saying no  – Whether it’s help in some form, such as giving your money, time, resources, or your expertise in some area, it’s ok to say no. Of course, it’s important to help others when and where you can, but stretching yourself too thin weakens you and throws you out of balance.  I always ask the question, “Will my help empower or disempower them?”  I try to find ways to truly benefit others in such a way as to create independence and boost their confidence. This enables them to build strength and resiliency. The next question I ask is, “What is my motivation?”  Am I coming from a place of love and compassion or am I being self-serving in some way, such as, playing the hero to bolster my ego? Ensuring my motivation is pure is essential in every situation. When my help is peppered with wisdom and love, I find I don’t get out of balance or exhausted. It’s important to remember that sometimes saying no is an act of love.
  3. Asking for help – It’s a sign of strength, not weakness, to ask for help when you’re struggling.  I personally find this one the most difficult.  I am not an island, although sometimes I like to think I am. When you’ve been let down by someone, or many someones, who you counted on to be there, it’s easy to fall into the trap of believing you can only rely on yourself and close off channels of connection. However, this disconnect can often to lead to narcissistic delusion. Together with my intuition, I need to bounce my ideas off trusted friends and family to gain a clearer picture of the truth.   Perspective can only be obtained through a broader view.  When we’re too close, everything becomes blurry.  So, don’t apologise for asking for help.  If you’re concerned about being a burden on someone, remember #2 – it’s their responsibility to tell the truth and say no if they need to.

BREATHE.

clouds

“Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.” ~Thích Nhất Hạnh

Several years ago, when I was a smoker (I know….gross!), I used to believe that smoking relaxed me; never mind the fact that nicotine is a stimulant.  When I gained my freedom from that terrible addiction several years ago, I found that it was the act of conscious breathing that one engages in while smoking that leads the smoker to believe it’s relaxing.

Conscious breathing, as in meditation, right? Yeah.. kinda. But I don’t have to be on the pillow in meditation to consciously breathe.  Once I started to pay attention, I was surprised at how  often I found myself holding my breath or breathing in a shallow manner.  What usually caught my attention to this was that I would suddenly become anxious. I always thought anxiety brought about the shallow breathing but shallow breathing also brings about anxiety.

I once believed that breathing was automated and I didn’t have to think about it.  When I first began meditating many, many years ago, I learned that I didn’t know how to breathe at all and had to be re-taught.  It was hard in the beginning as the more I focussed on my breathing, the more I would hyperventilate.  Man, those early days were rough!

But over time, it became easier to control my breathing and feel the benefits of a regular meditation practice.  I highly recommend beginners join a meditation class or download some good guided meditations as I found it much easier to begin this way.

Now, whenever I feel uneasy, I check that I’m not holding my breath.  One deep, cleansing breath invariably removes, or at least reduces the anxiety.  My breathing tells the tale of my inner world.  It lets me know when I’m off balance, stressed, insecure or not in alignment with Source Energy.  It’s a great barometer that never fails to tell the truth.

So, Number 2 on my list of Divine Daily Practices is:  BREATHE.

 

A LOVE STORY….REVISTED. HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY.

Wedding

He recognised her.

As she sat there, unaware, he recognised her.

He felt he could spend his whole life with her,

even before he met her eyes.

They’d never encountered each other before, not in this life.

Yet, somehow he knew.

She turned and looked at him.

Saw him for the first time and recognised him too.

There was so much beauty in that moment, in the knowing.

But she was broken,

a wounded child.

Hiding behind bravado,

playing the part of a whole woman.

He wasn’t fooled,

he was touched.

Touched by her vulnerability,

well concealed, but there.

He was happy to play the hero,

a role well practised.

She was content to stay broken,

it was so familiar.

Like a well-loved teddy bear,

she held her broken close to her heart.

With enduring patience,

he nurtured her,

loved her,

fed her spirit.

She was a force,

fighting him every step of the way.

Clinging so tightly,

yet pushing him away.

Unable to trust, to open,

to let him in.

Her mask was off

and she punished him for seeing her.

His heart was expansive,

enough to hold them both.

He held on, resolute 

and with absolute clarity.

She became whole again…

Unbroken, healed.

She spread her wings and soared so high,

he lost sight of her.

He wondered if she’d return.

But she did come back.

Taking his hand, she led him away with her.

They flew through the heavens,

taking a serpentine route through hell.

They created a life together,

abundant, dynamic….whole.

Theirs was a transcendent love,

limited only by fear… a foe to vanquish,

a devious liar to be silenced.

The age of harmony has begun.

Nestled together, the lovers’ hearts aligned.

Infused with light…bliss…faith.

The searching is over.

They had found each other… again.

And the love story continues.

Everlasting.

A Love Story…. from the other side.

Wedding

Today, my husband, Jeff, and I celebrate 16 years of marriage.  It amazes me how fast it’s gone by, and yet seems like a lifetime together….many lifetimes, in fact.  It’s been a roller coaster of ups, downs, twists and turns.  We’ve had our fights, been total strangers to each other at times, we’ve mentally packed our bags and survived an epic move halfway across the world from California to New Zealand, and even major house renovations.  We’ve also shared unbelievable joys, like the births of our two beautiful children, our triumphs over fears and obstacles, our personal successes and our mutual quest for knowledge and spiritual growth.  I look forward to growing old with Jeff and the many joyous moments yet to come.

So now, with Jeff’s permission, I’d like to share with you our love story, from his perspective, along with a re-publishing of my love poem to him.

“To my loving wife,

I will always love you.  From the beginning of time, I have loved you.  Until the end of time, I will love you.

In this human life, I will always cherish you.  I vow to treat you with love, generosity, compassion, consideration and loyalty.  I vow to be courteous, faithful, kind and respectful.  I vow to respect your wisdom, your wishes and your words.  I vow to support you and our family to the best of my ability.  I will honour these vows in this life until death becomes me.

Because I am human, my fallible mind savours the delicious moments of passion and warmth in our earthly union, whether they be real or delusional. Because I am human, my fallible mind will suffer greatly from the loss of our union, whether the loss be real or delusional.  I will endeavour to refrain from such delusional thoughts in times of weakness.

Thank you for your your compassion and understanding.  I am so proud of you.

Love always,

Your loving husband”

heart copy

A Love Poem….for my husband,

He recognised her.

As she sat there, unaware, he recognised her.

He felt he could spend his whole life with her,

even before he met her eyes.

They’d never encountered each other, not in this life.

Yet, somehow he knew.

She turned and looked at him.

Saw him for the first time and recognised him too.

There was so much beauty in that moment, in the knowing.

But she was broken,

a wounded child.

Hiding behind bravado,

playing the part of a whole woman.

He wasn’t fooled,

he was touched.

Touched by her vulnerability,

well concealed, but there.

He was happy to play the hero,

a role well practised.

She was content to stay broken,

it was so familiar.

Like a well-loved teddy bear,

she held her broken close to her heart.

With enduring patience,

he nurtured her,

loved her,

fed her spirit.

She was a force,

fighting him every step of the way.

Clinging so tightly,

yet pushing him away.

Unable to trust, to open,

to let him in.

Her mask was off

and she punished him for seeing her.

His heart was expansive,

enough to hold them both.

He held on, resolute

and with absolute clarity.

She was whole again…

Unbroken, healed.

She spread her wings and soared so high,

he lost sight of her.

He wondered if she’d return.

But she did come back.

Taking his hand, she led him away with her.

They flew through the heavens,

taking a serpentine route through hell.

They created a life together,

abundant, dynamic….whole.

Theirs was a transcendent love,

limited only by fear… a foe to vanquish,

a devious liar to be silenced.

The age of harmony has begun.

Nestled together, the lovers’ hearts aligned.

Infused with light…bliss…faith.

The searching is over.

They had found each other… again.

And the love story continues.

Everlasting.

A LOVE STORY….

Image

He recognised her.

As she sat there, unaware, he recognised her.

He felt he could spend his whole life with her,

even before he met her eyes.

They’d never encountered each other, not in this life.

Yet, somehow he knew.

She turned and looked at him.

Saw him for the first time and recognised him too.

There was so much beauty in that moment, in the knowing.

But she was broken,

a wounded child.

Hiding behind bravado,

playing the part of a whole woman.

He wasn’t fooled,

he was touched.

Touched by her vulnerability,

well concealed, but there.

He was happy to play the hero,

a role well practised.

She was content to stay broken,

it was so familiar.

Like a well-loved teddy bear,

she held her broken close to her heart.

With enduring patience,

he nurtured her,

loved her,

fed her spirit.

She was a force,

fighting him every step of the way.

Clinging so tightly,

yet pushing him away.

Unable to trust, to open,

to let him in.

Her mask was off

and she punished him for seeing her.

His heart was expansive,

enough to hold them both.

He held on, resolute 

and with absolute clarity.

She was whole again…

Unbroken, healed.

She spread her wings and soared so high,

he lost sight of her.

He wondered if she’d return.

But she did come back.

Taking his hand, she led him away with her.

They flew through the heavens,

taking a serpentine route through hell.

They created a life together,

abundant, dynamic….whole.

Theirs was a transcendent love,

limited only by fear… a foe to vanquish,

a devious liar to be silenced.

The age of harmony has begun.

Nestled together, the lovers’ hearts aligned.

Infused with light…bliss…faith.

The searching is over.

They had found each other… again.

And the love story continues.

Everlasting.

Newton’s Laws of Drama….I mean, Motion.

Lately I’ve become very interested in Physics and how they relate to my marriage.  Newton’s 3 Laws of Motion seem to coincide nicely with the nature of drama.  Bear with me as I explore this further.

Newton’s 1st Law of Motion, called the Law of Inertia, says that an object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.  Newton’s 2nd Law of Motion (Force=mass x acceleration) says that an object with a certain velocity maintains that velocity unless a force acts on it to cause an acceleration, which means to me:  Love=emotion x drama.

Here’s an example of how these first 2 laws apply to my relationship:  When everything is going smoothly in my marriage, and I actually allow that to continue, my marriage is a happy one (at rest = no drama).  However, my nature is to not let this last for very long.  I can become quite an “unbalanced force” (thank you menopause!) and will abruptly change the speed and direction of our lives without any consultation, whatsoever, with my husband.  This acceleration greatly changes the velocity of our relationship.  He’s expected to just keep up, no questions asked.  As you might imagine, this creates a wee bit of tension.  I’m not entirely sure where this insatiable need for drama comes from.  I get that a lot of it is just simple hormonal surges, but surely there’s more at play here.  I know plenty of menopausal-aged women who seem quite balanced and content.  Are they all great actors or is there a tendency toward drama that’s more pronounced in some and less in others?

I spend a great deal of time analysing this drama phenomenon.  I’ve discussed this with a lot of my girlfriends, who all agree there is something quite seductive about a good dose of drama, although as grown women we’re not supposed to feel that way anymore.  In the absence of any real drama in our own relationships, we find others’ drama quite delicious.  I guess that helps to explain the gossip connection.  But what is the actual (or perceived) payoff in engaging in a good dose of drama?

Historically, for me, it served many functions.  It staved off boredom.  I was taught well by chick flicks that contentment and an easy friendship with a man are NOT sexy.  Nice guys who adore and cherish us are booorrring. I was trained to believe that lots of conflict and drama in a relationship creates passion, which in turn equates to true love. And let’s not forget the thrill of the chase.  Being unsure about how someone feels about you and the insecurity that comes with it causes that flip-flopping feeling in the stomach which is often mistaken for love. When, suddenly, all that adoring and cherishing goes away, it is all you can think about and all you want. The animal-instinct to chase it ensues.  Then there good old-fashioned self-doubt.  I had the very wrong idea that I didn’t deserve adoration and cherishing.  I thought, eventually, he’ll figure out that I’m not so great after all and split.  I decided the best answer was to drive him away by being the worst version of myself and then I would get the added benefit of “victim” drama.  This is where I get to whinge to all my friends about what a jerk he was (and they would all agree) and I never had to look at my own culpability.

I’d like to tell you I’ve matured and have no more need for all this drama.  Well, that’s just not true.  I don’t engage in it the same way I used to, but it’s still a factor.  This leads me to Newton’s 3rd Law of Motion:  For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.  I like to call this, “The Pissing Contest.”  It looks something like this…..  He’s being grumpy and I ask him why he’s so grumpy and he says he isn’t grumpy, that I’m being the grumpy one.  I tell him I was perfectly happy until his grumpiness caused me to become grumpy.  He says he was perfectly fine beforehand and is simply reacting to my grumpiness.  On and on it goes until we’re not speaking to each other anymore. Hours turn to days and days turn to weeks.  The drama phenomenon has been activated.  My husband knows me all too well and that I’m likely packing my bags in my head.  Old habits die hard, I reckon.  He’s come to expect that and no longer really worries that I’ll actually leave.  At this point, I’ve usually forgotten what I’m even angry about, probably because there was no good reason to begin with.  In my head, of course, I’m using the tried and true anthem of the 4 year old…. “but HE started it!”  My overdeveloped pride keeps me from just calling a truce and apologising, although for what I’m not really sure.  I’m ashamed to admit that it’s generally him who puts down the sword and comes forward with all that annoying logic and reason saying that it doesn’t matter who started it.  Isn’t is more important to just be happy?  Isn’t that what we all want?  Ironically enough, we were happy before all this unnecessary drama started.  Why this ridiculous detour?

There’s only one answer…..Physics!