And he vacuums

Apparently I’m a cynic. I never considered myself one, but as things continue to delight in the relationship department, I’m beginning to wonder if there can be there too much of a good thing. My inner skeptic is acting aggressively lately and I’m just not sure whom to believe. My heart is asking me to sit back, relax and enjoy, but the skeptic is warning me to take out the common sense and apply with care. I mean, if it seems too good to be true, it probably is, right?

It was only a few weeks ago I wrote about finding comfort in being able to enjoy a good, healthy relationship without worrying where it’s headed. No sooner did I get those words on the screen that I started worrying about trusting myself too much, if that’s possible. And just as those nagging thoughts started to appear, it seemed as if conversations about relationships were everywhere. And conversations about relationships make me think of my own relationship, even when I had decided against that very thing.

Even he wanted to talk about our relationship. Yes, ladies, the man brought up the future. Surprise, surprise. He wasn’t nervous, awkward or needy. No pressure, no demands, just a mature, adult male (yes I did say mature adult male) who knows how he feels, what he wants and is confident enough to discuss it without the slightest bit of discomfort.

When the guy you’re in a good, healthy relationship with continues to act like a mature adult male, can you help but wonder if it’s just too darn good to be true? Recently, my mature adult male-friend and I marveled at each other and our relationship – how seamlessly things are working out, how naturally everything fits together. We asked each other, Is this it? Is this what it’s supposed to feel like when its right? Is this what people in happy relationships experience? Is this what we’ve been striving to find all these years? Can this last? How do you know?

I asked the opinion of a friend of mine who said, “you just know.” And I know she’s right. As much as I want a checklist of rights and wrongs, dos and don’ts and a higher power to wake me during the night to give me a definitive answer, preferably in writing, we all know that’s not going to happen. You have to figure it out on your own. You can solicit advice from every person you’ve met since kindergarten. You can do a free survey on surveymonkey.com. and you can have your tarot cards read, but it’s your decision and yours alone.

The thing about this decision that keeps me up at night is the question of trust. How do you know when you can and should trust yourself, when the decision you made the first time around was less than stellar? How do you know the difference between a real, lasting connection and getting lost in the giddiness of a new, comfortable relationship? How do you know if the little things you love about him now will drive you crazy in the future? I think my friend was right – you just know. When you dig down really deep and tell yourself the complete and honest truth, only then can you trust yourself and make the right decisions.

I’m not an expert on relationships, just a 35 year-old woman navigating this very complicated and sometimes exhausting world of dating. So for now my answer is to trust. Trust and enjoy every second with the man who says everything has changed for the better since we met: he feels better, sees things more clearly, wants more from life. He’s astonished that I have no idea how wonderful I am. I’m astonished that that this warm, wonderful, kind and considerate man was basically delivered to my doorstep – a man who took down my Christmas tree and immediately started vacuuming the house without me even showing him where the vacuum was kept. Stop the press, ladies … can there by anything sexier than a man vacuuming? I think not. So let’s pray together that there’s no such thing as too good to be true.

Dos Due Deux

Sometimes it surprises me how often I’m reminded that no matter how good things are, getting back out there -- dating the second time around -- isn’t as easy as one would hope. Let me clarify: I didn’t think it would be easy, but I certainly thought I’d be better at it, at least a bit. I mean I’m pretty darn proud of myself for recognizing an unhealthy marriage and managing to get out of it before the ties couldn’t be broken. And I’m proud that I’ve grown immensely from the experience (mentally and emotionally, of course). I’m much stronger than I was just a few years ago. I’m more confident and independent, and a ton more comfortable with me.

But none of these developments seem to have too much of an impact on my dating life. And the truly disappointing part is that I am to blame. Yes, me. The cliché does apply. I am my own worst enemy. And my worst critic. But at least I’m not alone. We all do it. We are all our own worst enemy and our own worst critic. But why? Why are we so hard on ourselves? We would never let anyone else be so hard on us. Why don’t we show ourselves the kindness we show our friends and loved ones? I would never be so unforgiving to a friend and I would never continue a friendship with someone who judged me so harshly.

Dating the second time around just might mean that we’re more sensitive than ever. We’re scared, unsure and we know that fairy tales don’t actually exist. Doesn’t this mean we should go even easier ourselves? Be more forgiving? I refer, once again, to Elizabeth Gilbert’s bestselling memoir “Eat, Pray, Love.” In it, she describes how one day for a split second, as an elevator was closing, she saw her reflection in a security mirror and thought she spotted a friend. When life gets rough, she reminds herself of this moment saying, “never forget that in an unguarded moment, you recognized yourself as a friend.”

I, too, try to remind myself of this but it’s difficult, and I’m not sure why. Do I feel guilty about being happy so I sabotage a relationship in my head when things are going well? Quite possibly. Do I conjure up silly scenarios and create unnecessary drama where there is none? Perhaps. But it has to be the guy’s fault, right?

I’m starting to think men aren’t as dumb as they look. Or pretend to be. Dare I say they may even have the right idea? They don’t (for the most part) overanalyze. They’re not (with rare exceptions) oversensitive. They don’t FEEL every little thought, detail, glance and hiccup and wonder what it means. OK, I’m an over-analyzer and I’ve come to terms with it. It’s not going to change anytime soon. It comes with being a super-sensitive artsy type and it’s helped me see the beauty that many others can’t see in what life throws at us. As with many things, it’s a blessing and a curse.

But now I am choosing to make it only a blessing from this point forward, and will not allow it to get in the way of my happiness. If I learned one thing from living in a marriage that doesn’t work it’s that you have to love yourself in order for anyone else to have even a chance to truly love you.

Divorce has provided me with a number of lessons and I’m determined to learn every single one of them. I’ve learned that there’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve learned how to make better decisions in the future than I have in the past. And I’ve learned that the future holds great things for me. Now I promise to create adequate space for those great things by being a good friend to the most important person in my life – me. I read in a magazine today and hope to carry this thought with me, “true love begins with both curiosity about and acceptance of yourself.”

Slow-to-Judge

Back to my favorite Sunday night activity – going over the past week in my head and reminding myself of the things I’m thankful for, to get ready and grounded for the coming week. Sometimes I write down my thoughts and over the past year, those thoughts have turned into this blog. But things have taken a new turn recently because I’m not exactly sure what a women who writes about the trials and tribulations of post-divorce dating does when she enters a relationship that just might last. Thus, please see below.

Relationships, for me, have always brought up a fair amount of questions. Everything’s new and questions come up, like whether he’ll be a good kisser or whether you’ll fit in with his friends and family. Little questions come up, too, like if he snores or takes half and half in his coffee. This newness can be exhilarating and exhausting. For the most part, excitement wins out and the learning portion of the process is more fun than any learning you’ve done before.

The questions arising from my current relationship, however, are a bit puzzling. I’ve found myself in a place I’ve never been before. Sometimes I think it’s great. Other times I think it's just too good to be true and all this goodness will come to an abrupt end at any moment. For the first time in my life, I’m in a relationship and not wondering where it’s going. I don’t have a destination or even a journey in mind. This is such a new situation that I’m afraid I might be in denial. I’ve always tried to imagine the future, whatever it may be. I’m usually planning the future before the present has had a chance to breathe. I'm used to it, comfortable with it; it’s my m.o. So how, how did I get here? And more importantly, how do I stay here?

Friends of mine have given me two 'Native American' names. One I share freely, Quick-to-Mimic, because I can imitate with the best of them: accents, dance moves, you name it, even Steven Tyler (yes, Aerosmith's Steven Tyler). The other I’m not so generous with: Quick-to-Judge. Ok, I guess I have a tendency to make quick judgments of others … it may be a fault but I'm usually right.

Just saying.

So what does Quick-to-Judge do when all of the things that usually bother me suddenly don't? Could I have really become the truly open-minded person I’ve endeavored to be? As I read back on my past blog about standards and not compromising them, I have to laugh out loud. This guy has honestly violated almost every single one of them:

Flip-flops. Yup.

Sunday football. Yup.

Baseball caps. Yup.

Home fixer. You guessed it … yup.

Republican. Double yup.

But I don’t mind. Not a wee bit. We joke that we have nearly nothing in common but it hasn’t seemed to stunt our relationship growth. Is the fact that he’s a genuinely good person who thinks I’m a genuinely good person enough? After all, that’s why my wonderful friend set us up – two good people have to be good for each other, right?

Is it enough that we can laugh at our situation because we both have a good sense of humor? The fact that we’re both die-hard Law & Order fans helps. We both love Clint Eastwood. And ice cream – mint chocolate chip to be precise. He likes good beer, which is important. And we can’t get enough of each other. It’s inexplicable. And it’s the first time that I’m ok with not being able to research, fact-find, explain, write about and present something that I feel strongly about. My thesis on our relationship would be fatally flawed.

But most amazing of all, there are questions that come up that I can put aside for the time being and not ask. Excuse me? you say. Indeed -- big questions that I don’t need to know the answers to right now because there is something to be said for just being happy and enjoying the moment. Imagine that. Does he ever want to get married? Don’t know. Does he want more children, or is he willing to consider it? Not a clue. Does he want to be in south Florida for the rest of his life? I couldn’t say. When/how will I meet his children? Not sure.

So what does an over analyzer do when there’s nothing to overanalyze? Take a break. Go for a walk. Give the dog a bath. Enjoy the fact that when you’re in a healthy relationship with someone who thinks as much of you as you of them, music sounds better. Books read better. Poetry seems more poetic. And you’re less quick to judge.