I would like to be able to say that I never again did something dumb to win another’s approval, but I can’t. What I’ve hopefully done is made it to a place where I am trying to win the right people’s approval, for the right reasons, and in the right ways.Read More
...it’s easy to feel like your worth as a person, male or female, is inextricably tied to your relationship status. It’s not. But marriage is something that a lot of us desire, since a large component of the Gospel is finding joy through family relationships. However...Read More
(Photo: Us as babies on our first trip together.) ...I often heard the phrase ‘Love is not enough’. As in, “Love is not enough to make a relationship work long term". But wait, Love is everything, right? All we need is Love?Read More
How Did I Get Here?
I think about this question a lot. These days, I’m thinking of it in terms of geography and the finale of an almost-two-year-long trek to a new city. Other times, however, it’s more, “How did I EVER get here?” in terms of marriage, motherhood, and approaching 30. Weren't we 19 barely three years ago?
I had always hoped to someday be where I am now. It didn’t matter when, I just wanted to get here sometime. Maybe that’s why it’s still somewhat strange to sit still and realize that I’m finally here. This is it, as they say. But it’s not really it, as in the end of the end, the top of the top. It’s just one it. But rather than looking to all of the other its I hope to reach in life, sometimes it's good for me to reflect on how I got to the current here.
When I was a teenager in a relatively small town, my older sister got married young and became a mother. The goal. A few years later, she was unhappy. I was at the local college, not sure what I wanted to study, and quickly losing my personally prized status as a straight-A student. I didn’t really care about school anymore. I wasn't sure what I wanted to study, and I was getting restless being back in school so soon. In addition, as someone who went on few dates in high school and had never had a boyfriend, my job at the grocery store near campus boosted my visibility and the dating opportunities came.
My sister warned me not to get married young. Some friends of mine were prepping to take the plunge. I got it in my head that if I didn’t leave for awhile, at the rate I was going I would end up married at 20, living in my hometown, someday resenting my poor husband for my lack of life experiences on my own. Or so my 19-year-old-“sky is falling”-self reasoned, so I left. Thus began the gypsy lifestyle that persisted for the next ten years.
About five years into it I was tired of wandering, realizing that there is something to be said for consistency in some form or another.
I wanted to be somewhere I could invest my time (relationship-wise), not just spend it. When I asked him what he liked most about being married, my dad said, “One time my dad gave me his credit card when I went on a road trip up the coast of California. It was a sad trip. There were gorgeous sunsets, beautiful scenery, and I could spend whatever I wanted, but I was alone. Being married is all about being able to point to the sunset and say, ‘Now isn’t that beautiful?’”
Living for myself was growing tiresome, and not being able to share my adventures began to take the fun out of them.
Dating provides so many opportunities to see, do, and try fun, new, incredible things. But when I began to look back on many of my favorite memories, I realized many were had with people I would never see again. They got married, or once I was in a relationship, a close friendship with them would be inappropriate. Those memories had to be locked away to some degree, whereas marriage is about keeping shared memories front and center, relishing them, continually polishing them to keep the fire alive.
Being alone with oneself is a wonderful thing. I have great memories of solo road trips, solitary reflective moments, creative projects where I lost track of time for hours. I still seek these times. I don’t regret any time on my own, nor am I saying marriage is the only way to invest in a long term relationship (friends, family, coworkers, those we serve…). I know I handle marriage better than I would have due to the things I learned about myself in those years. But I reached a point where, for me, sharing my whole life was my greatest desire.
There is a difference between feeling lonely and feeling desperate. Loneliness is a normal human emotion. Desperation often comes from a sense of unworthiness. Too often it's assumed that if you actively seek marriage, then you must be desperate. There is also a difference between feeling lonely for company and feeling like you want a home of your own. Somewhere to stay, somewhere to build. My parent’s home was a constant hub, a place where I felt belonging and love. But it wasn’t mine to build; it wasn’t where I could stay and grow.
So, I worked at dating. I got very deliberate, and put my partners through the wringer. I created a lot of social discomfort by skipping small talk and cutting to the chase on second and third dates (sometimes sooner). I narrowed down the enormous list that was unconsciously floating around in my head and chose THE three things I needed in a man. If he had those, I stayed (barring any red flags, obviously). No allowing the list to grow as time went on. If I found the three things waning, I left. No hanging on for lack of anything better to do.
I quit using dating as my entire social life and something fun to do on Friday night, and began using it for what it was designed to be: a way to select a life partner. Sometimes this approach worked, sometimes I had to scale it back. But I figured that the type of guy who would want to be with me forever would probably be able to handle my unconventional ways.
Years later, I was finally able to choose Jon. It was no whirlwind, and it didn't just happen. He was the type of man I had set my sights on, sifted through the masses for. He met the three criteria (and plenty of the ones I thought I had to let go of years before), as well as the final criteria of liking me back. We both had qualities others had turned away from. We both had many shortcomings. But we had the same end-goal and the same vision of what it would take to reach it.
We didn’t date long, but we packed in a good two years' worth of discussion, arguments, and discoveries in our short courtship. By this time in our lives, we had both laser-focused on the types of things we needed in a mate, so we cut right to finding out if we were a match (or at least I did).
It wasn’t easy though; as a recovering serial dater who had always kept my distance emotionally, I would actually vomit on our dates from the anxiety of knowing this one was real. Jon jokes that it was the sight of his face that did it; but I know it was because I was having to open my heart for real. This is what I had been seeking, I knew it was right, but I also knew deep down I had to then give of myself and leave the life I was used to.
Sometimes we think we want something so badly, but when faced with the reality that our lives will actually change in a huge way, the discomfort in that is much scarier than missing out on what we stand to gain, so we remain stuck. I knew I had to reveal the deepest parts of myself to someone who deserved it, and that freaked me out. How he managed to stick around through all of that, I’ll never know.
In the darker times of my single life when things weren’t working out how I hoped, I had this recurring image that I would visualize of my future husband, our children, and me sitting in a living room in front of a fireplace. In that image I would realize, This is why. This is why I had to go through those difficult times, because this is where I was heading.
This scene has played out many times in my current life. Although, it’s not in a perfect living room with a perfect fireplace in it. Many times it’s on the go as we run from here to there trying to get our “real life” set up. Sometimes it’s in a 600-square-foot apartment feeling my first baby kick, knowing we will move three times by the time he’s one year old but wanting him all the same. Sometimes it's when my son laughs because he has barf all over his face. Most times it doesn’t feel like a rush of satisfaction, or “my heart bursting” like the common Instagram caption goes. It just feels so natural, more natural than anything, because it's exactly where I belong today.
When starting this blog I wondered if I should talk about things like this. Gush about family life. The feelings I had while single, reading others’ such accounts, are still so real to me. The mixed emotions of joy for my friends, longing for it for myself, twinges of envy, ache with the fear it might be a long way off, frustration, excitement, and many others. The struggle of singlehood, however inconsistent it was, isn't something I’ll soon forget.
Some saw me as having gotten married young, so I don’t know anything about the real struggle. Some Married's saw me as old and offered me the well-meaning but useless encouragements of “Keep your head up, he’s out there!" Or my favorite, "When the time is right, you’ll find each other! Work on being the one, and then you’ll find the one". However, the most annoying thing married people did was pity me. Just because I seek marriage, doesn’t mean I am perpetually bummed when I don't have it. Single life can be a great, full life. Married life can be terrible. It's all what you make it.
Good-intentioned married people interrogated me left and right, trying to diagnose me or figure out what more I could do to fix my singleness. My “ability to commit” was examined, and once even my sexual-orientation was questioned due to the number of seemingly "perfect" matches I let go. Only the two people in a relationship can know how perfect, or imperfect, the pairing is.
In short, people can be ridiculous. I don’t want to be one of those married folks, so I am going with what is real to me. I’m choosing not to pity. I’m choosing to believe that married or single, we are all in charge of our own happiness and contentment. I trust that you, dear reader, are strong enough to handle a few adorable baby photos and the occasional husband-brag.
So how did I get “here”, in the literal sense? Here is all over the West Coast where we are visiting family on our way to Massachusetts. Jon is going to attend Harvard Law, and the babe and I are going to explore Cambridge and enjoy being in one place for awhile. By the time we get there, Clayton will have visited 12 states and 8 major cities in his little life. We are ready for a rest.
As unconventional as it is, and as trying as it can be, the joy I have experienced in my new family life has been as exquisite as any pain felt in waiting for it. It's been a wild ride, but I am happy to finally be here.
Lesson #2 in online dating: Treat it like a party
One problematic thing I often see with girlfriends taking online dating out for a spin for the first time, is that the response they receive or don't receive becomes a huge focus in their dating life. It can be hard to put yourself out there, feel like you're back on Hot-or-Not.com, and worry that if this doesn't go well your dating life is doomed.
Whether you receive 20 messages in a day, or you're hoping the one message you sent out is returned, it's important to realize this is just a website. People vary in their usage of it, and anyone is allowed on it. 20 messages doesn't mean there is a quality match in the bunch, while receiving a response from a the one existing potential match three weeks down the road is normal. The key is to not hinge your whole dating life on the website.
Over the years I was able to find the proper place in my life for online dating. I learned to look at it as a way to create initial contacts with people outside my normal circles, not as a place to actually date someone, and definitely not as a fiancée factory. Many friends, many business contacts, but only few good relationships came from the web. I treated dating sites as if they were a casual acquaintance’s party.
If I met a nice, attractive man at a party, it wouldn’t take much for me to give him my number if we had a decent connection. The connection could be friendly, business-y, or romantic, but you wouldn’t find out if it was a love match until much later. Is this form of meeting any less superficial than looking at a few photos and reading a few facts about a person? The only way it’s “safer” is the fact that I met him at an acquaintance’s party, which is a weak connection at best. There’s no reason a creep couldn’t crash a party and pick up on girls (unprecedented!).
It’s for this reason that all of the same safety precautions we take in real life should happen with online dates. In fact, I think people need to be more careful with real life encounters than they are. Always meet at a public location. Outdoor malls are a good start. Church events work well, too. I’ve never been drinking at a meet up with someone I met online, but I would imagine that would lower one’s ability to discern red flags (depending on the amount consumed, obvs).
Seeing online dating sites as an initial connector and nothing more worked wonders for me when combined with little-to-zero expectations on the quality of the match. I could then meet up with someone, expect nothing more than the chance to get to know a new person, and know that I was “putting myself out there” and expanding my horizons. If I was in a particularly busy or overwhelmed place in life, I didn’t put pressure on myself to go out or make matches. I would simply login to the site only when I felt like stepping outside of the same old circles.
That’s what the Internet is good for: meeting people who are enough like you that you could meet them somewhere, but haven't yet crossed paths. In the LDS world, there’s a high likelihood that once you add someone to your friend list on Facebook, you’ll find you have at least one mutual friend. The dating site simply speeds up the meeting process.
This is where online dating has an edge on traditional dating. When you're out at a party and you see an attractive person whom you'd like to get to know, you have no way of knowing their status. You can ask a mutual friend, who will most likely say something like, "He's kind of hanging out with so-and-so, I saw them together last week, but I'm not really sure because I think she went out with what's-his-name the other night..." Which ultimately leads to connecting with the person (they're at the party alone after all), but never actually getting to the date (after a lot of noncommittal texting), because things have taken off with so-and-so or what's his name.
Obviously, people can lie about their status and their profession and their level of activity in their religion and the number of martians living at their house. Of course there are trolls and creeps just looking for fast love and will say whatever it takes. We can't help this. But if you use your brain and the screening measures previously mentioned, the people you'll find on dating sites who say they are single and looking for a real match, are sincerely doing just that.
Oftentimes it can go a step further, to where you can establish whether someone is dating for fun or for potential marriage. At a social event, a person isn't typically going to approach you and say, "I'm 32, divorced. I'm looking to get back into dating, single now, and open to getting married sooner than later." It would be very helpful if they did, however. Knowing these basics up front takes a lot of the guess work out of first dates, which are hard enough as it is. Online dating wins in giving direct info on a person's status.
Then, the real work can begin of getting to know each other on a non-virtual level, discerning their authenticity and whether or not what they said online was genuine. But hey, it's a start, and it's more than you get from a two-minute conversation at the house party. Plus, you never even had to change out of your pajamas.
There was a time I was in the classic BYU ward (church group), doing the not-so-classic Provo thing of working, not going to school, and hanging out in Orem a lot. A stake president (church leader) spoke and said out loud what I had been trying to identify for years, while simultaneously removing a nagging guilt I hadn’t realized I had, but did have, until that moment.
He was speaking only to the Relief Society (group of women). He told us about his 31 year old, business-owning, not-married, daughter and how cool she was and all the cool useful and fun things she had done. He then got very stern and made this previously unheard-of statement:
“Some of you are here in Provo treading water. You are in jobs you don’t like, doing things you aren’t passionate about, waiting around to get married. Provo is not an interesting place, and it’s not the only place to meet other Latter-Day Saints. Get out. Go out there and make yourself a more interesting person. And in the process, you will meet other interesting people, and possibly a guy who has similar interests, and you will be even more attractive because you will be becoming more interesting than you are when you are here treading water.”
The lifting of rose-colored glasses, the sound of judgy parties getting off their high-horses, and the relieved sighs of those feeling the anxiety that comes from living only for potential marriage, were heard throughout the room. It was a beautiful message, and one I have imperfectly strived to live by ever since.
I think I was about 23 then, and I had already suffered through, and would suffer through more, self-inflicted 'waiting spells'. Times when cultural pressures-- that’s a cop-out-- my own fantastical imaginings of what my life should look like before I could really get going with it, got the better of me. Times when I was too lazy or scared to look further down the path of my life and figure out what I truly wanted to be- regardless of marital status. Over the years these annoyingly desperate times would become shorter in length, to the point where in the few years prior to my marriage they would occupy an overly hormonal weekend and no more.
Sure, the entire single population (LDS or not) and married friends continued to focus on little else besides my relationship status, but my feelings of patience and contentment grew stronger as I set my sights on becoming “more interesting”, rather than “more married”. In addition, I added more interested to the equation as well, as I found it was a surefire way to become more interesting. I wanted to be more interested in those around me, in the world around me, and the opportunities all over the place inviting me to grow.
Along the way I met a woman in her early thirties, active LDS, beautiful, amazingly fun, and single. I had never met someone so interested in aggressively seeking fun while also being highly responsible. In fact, she was in HR at the company where I worked-- the department where fun goes to die. I learned that she competed in karaoke competitions dressed in full character attire, had become certified in flying trapeze, enjoyed skydiving (who doesn’t?), and was forming a kick-ball team to compete in a city league.
I’m also ashamed to say that until then, I didn’t know that someone could be in her place in life and not obsessively talk about dating and marriage. I had simply never encountered it. It was so refreshing to not be painstakingly discussing the ins and outs of love life, but rather the wild new adventures from the weekend.
The fact that she was the first LDS person in my then 27 years of life whom I had met with this attitude is a sad, sad fact. Either it’s sad because I didn’t expand my horizons enough to meet more people like this, or because there aren’t many women like this out there. Considering I was in something like 22 different singles wards where I spent a lot of time with women, I’m pretty sure it’s the latter.
The tricky part is this: once married, it’s even more important that you are an “interesting person” who is also an interested person, curious about the world, motivated to learn, and willing to seek appropriate novelty. It has been repeatedly shown that variety is one of 6 basic human needs, and also that it is crucial in a marriage. Blending the safety of consistency with the adventure of variety is a challenge that, if mastered, will keep a marriage going. Good marriages end because of 'boredom'. Bored people are boring people. A desire to learn new things, a willingness to step outside of your immediate circle to see whom you might help or learn from, and becoming adaptable to new situations, is not a born-with or born-without trait. It is a skill that is cultivated through exposure and practice.
If our entire focus is finding a mate and nothing more, then the moment we find him/her, we are already heading for a boredom+unrealisticexpectations=disaster. The marriage is already doomed, as we are essentially saying, “I’m choosing to marry you, and by the life I’m currently living I am demonstrating that I’m choosing not to concern myself with anything other than you. Therefore, I’m counting on all of my excitement, fulfillment, passion, compassion, good works, fun, and pleasure, to come from you.” Yikes, needy much? I’d be lying if I said there haven’t been times where I’ve put that kind of pressure on my husband, due to that same nasty habit I picked up long ago of being too lazy or scared to look at my own life and what I wanted to make of it.
Two individuals who spend time seeking learning and developing their healthy interests and hobbies are going to be able to go out into the world --either together or separately-- and come back home, together, and share the new insights they have garnered. They will learn from each other, they will grow as individuals, and their synergy will be unstoppable. They become a force to be reckoned with in their life as a couple, far more than the sum of their parts. They will be able to more positively impact their children and their communities, and are more likely to become intentional about their purpose in life. Not to mention, each person’s desire to learn about the other increases, which leads to more love for each other, which leads to more service to one another, the glue that holds a couple together.
Developing this as a single person is crucial to getting out of the waiting mentality and finding fulfillment in the infinite areas there are in which to serve, love, and play. And more likely than not, it’s in taking your eyes off of the supposed “Holy Grail” that you become relaxed, joyous, and interesting enough for the right one to take notice.
But even if not...
For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.
1. the improvement or clarification of something by the making of small changes. 2. the process of removing impurities or unwanted elements from a substance.
From what I've gathered so far, great relationships are made and broken in the details. Refinement isn't alchemy, completely overhauling what currently is and turning it into something it’s not. Refinement is simply removing impurities from something, little by little, until its purest form is revealed. Sometimes it takes fire, other times pressure, and every time, when humans are involved, it takes love.
I've been interested in the idea of refinement since I was a wee ‘tween, when I read this little ditty, referring to the verse in Malachi which says that Christ will “sit as a refiner and purifier of silver”. Spoiler Alert: The story talks about the process of refining silver, and how the silver must be held over the hottest part of the flame until the imperfections are removed. The silver must be carefully watched or else it will be destroyed by the heat. The silversmith knows the silver is complete only once he can see his reflection in it.
As I’ve grown up and fallen in love with all things connection and relationship: how people interact, the ways they choose to love, the ways they hurt each other, the ways they bring out the best or the worst in others or themselves, one common factor always emerges: the small things are where the differences are made. Minor impurities can hurt, but even the most minor of improvements can work wonders.
I believe the enemy to careful and deliberate refinement is found in the idea that relationships with others, with oneself, and with God, just happen. That if the relationship is good or right, it will just work. I once heard that the opposite of love is not hate, it is indifference, and over the years I have found this to be true. To hate something, some form of energy or action must be exerted, and oftentimes, with great passion. So it is with love. Passivity and indifference on the other hand, require no action, no concern, and no thought, much less passion. I can think of no better way to kill the love in a relationship or prevent a new one from forming than by taking no thought, no concern, and no action for it.
The line between being passive in a relationship and practicing personal refinement to improve it, can appear very thin. Most people (myself included) struggle to admit, or even realize, that they are coasting in their marriage, or mindlessly forming their personal identity. That they are waiting around for a good Date, or paying little attention to how and why they practice their religion. It’s normal to feel like taking it easy, especially at home where we just want to relax a little. We want to be loved for 'who we are', 'for better or worse'. Being loved as we are right now (and accepting ourselves right now) is a great feeling. But that love should be used as fuel to propel us to greater heights, not as an excuse to rest on our laurels and maintain the status quo. Being loved when we are in our purest form, our most authentic, free from the walls and fears keeping us at arm's length, is a joy that far surpasses simply being accepted as we are in spite of our flaws.
The impurities in ourselves, in our marriages, or in our relationship with the Lord aren't what make us who we are. They are merely specks of dust clouding our true image that can ultimately be revealed with small, consistent efforts. Being held over the fire is painful, but depriving ourselves and our loved ones of better-than-OK relationships is a tragedy.
I’m still trying to figure out the best ways to clarify and refine the most important areas of my life. Seemingly infinite numbers of ways to fix life, fix relationships, and fix myself appear everywhere I look. It's easy to feel overwhelmed by the pressure to be perfect. But refinement isn't perfection; it's a process. This site is a place for me to compile the things I’m learning about that process, the things that have worked for me, and the things I want to work on in order to continually revamp my commitment to chipping off my rough edges. There are incredibly refined people out there from whom I can learn amazing things. Suggestions welcome!