The World…As I See It: Avoiding Disappointment

More melodramatic than my sentiment.  But then again isn’t that a requirement for most songs?

Vintage Brandy “Almost Doesn’t Count [Live]”

I am always concerned about the way people perceive me.  I know it’s cliché and I should have more confidence in myself, blah, blah, blah.  But it’s true and I doubt it’s something that’s going to ever completely go away.  Rather than feel foolish about it, I just have to accept and recognize when it’s creating a ridiculous reaction/response.

Amongst other things, I have a problem dealing with disappointment.  If/when a friend, family member or significant other lets me down, I take it hard.  My heart sinks, lungs get heavy and in extreme cases if I’ve had enough time to think about it and be offended, I get a not-so-slight burning sensation in my chest.  (I’m expecting an ulcer by 28.  It’s truly unfortunate…)  However, the physical is nothing in comparison to the mental and emotional.  I can really take it personally.

If the situation/result is out of their control, I realize I have to choke back whatever my initial response is and be a grown-up about it.  Shit happens.  There’s not a person (currently) in my life that has the power to really hurt my feelings that I believe would do it intentionally.  Most people have nothing but the best of intentions for the people they care about.  I have to find comfort in that (at least…).

However, if the situation/result is completely within their control and they just made a decision, that’s a whole different story.  While in the end I still have to suck it up and move on,  choosing to change plans or not follow through with something you’d said makes a big difference to me.  Running the risk of abusing the cliché, I have little patience for flakes.

Flakes are everywhere, nearly impossible to avoid.  I just rarely choose to intimately associate with them.  Therefore, I’m rarely affected by the things they fail to do.  However, when someone I care about and trust lets me down, it takes everything within me to….let them know.

Not the general response, I know.  Despite the intense personal reaction, it’s very difficult for me to unhappily express myself to those I care about.  I’m often afraid to react verbally because I don’t want my message or true feelings to be lost in the emotional display.  So rather than be fair to the person I’m mounting a mental attack against (or to myself), I swallow it and try to minimize the situation.  “Sure, no problem.  Things happen.  I’ll figure something else out.  Have fun.  I don’t mind.  Etc.”

Now I’m not the big punk I’m making myself out to be.  It’s not that I don’t want to express myself or feel that my feelings are in some way invalid.  It’s just that I want to do it as calmly and honestly as possible.  Finding that balance generally means I have to take a step back.  Despite my typicaly composed, some would say even “professional”, nature, there is always something going on behind scenes.  And I know that when I start it can be difficult to stop.  I just want to make sure that what I say is what I really mean, what’s appropriate for that particular situation.

However that desire to take a step back can often hurt more than it helps.  By the time I’ve thought things over and calmed down, it may seem as if the moment has passed.  What’s worse: overreacting at the moment or bringing up old things the other person thought had been resolved (if they were even aware there was a problem in the first place)?

Not everything’s going to go my way.  But when something happens that leaves me sad, hurt, disappointed or offended, it’s probably not best to cover it up with a half-hearted PR smile and polite responses that completely betray my true feelings.  It’s not all that realistic to believe those feelings will just poof go away.  I may be able to bury them and move forward but there’s only so much one person can bury.  If you’re anything like me, you’ll reach a boiling point and erupt.  The cause of that eventual eruption is usually minor, making me look even more the overreacting drama queen I’d worked so hard to avoid.

Before you go off the deep end, it’s probably best to really evaluate the situation.  What are you upset about and how upset are you?  Had you really been looking forward to something or made some plans that are now null and void because of something someone else did?  Did that person understand what this meant to you?  True surprises aside, it’s often easy for someone to dismiss something you didn’t seem to really care about.  There can be a fine line between complaining and explaining.  But if you’re genuinely upset, I think it’s okay to risk it.  Avoiding the conversation doesn’t give you the power to avoid disappointment.  If nothing else, it just forces you to avoid a resolution.  Sometimes some things cannot be fixed.  But a sincere “I’m sorry” can go a long way.

Regardless of the reason/cause, it’s best for the ones you love to know something they’ve done has hurt you.  If nothing else it’s a reminder that even the perpetually calm have feelings.  Perceived indifference and lack of emotion (good or bad) comes off cold.  If you’re hurting, the last thing you want is someone thinking you don’t care (or, worse, you couldn’t…).

It’s not fair to anyone to feel the need to judge their own, honest feelings for or about the people they want in their lives.  And it’s not fair to the people you supposedly care about and trust to hide your true feelings.  Relationships need to be uncomfortable at times.  If they’re not, someone’s not being honest.  It’s impossible to avoid disappointment.  The best we can all do is pick our battles and not punk out for the sake of perception.

Hoping to count to 3 and respond, rather than 3 million and blow up,

Jo’van

Romantic Cynic: Not Reaping the Benefits

This song’s a bit more extreme than what I’m going through but aren’t most?  I heard it for the first time during my make-yourself-miserable phase of the mourning period and it stuck with me.  This is essentially what I felt he was saying to me.  Or maybe what I was hoping he was saying…  (Plus, I needed a guitar riff to honor the ex.  Most sappy r&b songs just don’t have those.)

Rascal Flatts “I Feel Bad”

I recently got out of a decent relationship with a good guy.  To be more specific, I was let go.  Much like being laid off, I saw it coming but just tried to keep smiling and pretend as if nothing was happening, waiting for the cloud to pass over.  No one wants to admit they were the one broken up with.  But I find a level of comfort in at least being intelligent and sensitive enough to not be surprised.

Anyway, 3 1/2 months in, things just weren’t working the way they should.  If we were really being honest with each other and ourselves, the same thing could’ve been said a little earlier.  1 1/2 months in, it wasn’t really working…enough.

We looked great on paper; considering the other person to be attractive, intelligent, intriguing, funny, promising.  A 14 year difference and “jungle fever” only made things more interesting.  (The latter not being a real issue but an issue just the same at times when I made it one.)

As much as I’d like to list out all of our problems and why I knew this wasn’t going to work and pat myself on the back for knowing ahead of time but trying, I just can’t.  Sure, there were things that made me raise an eyebrow or made him take a step back.  We liked different things.  When I was ready to slow down, he was ready to speed up.  Our life experiences were drastically different.  (Shit, he actually remembered the 80s! 🙂 )  His confidence can come off smug or arrogant.  My unease can come off defensive, or, worse, indifferent.  But in the end, I’d say it truly came down to one big thing that when ignored, made all of the small things eventually blow up in our faces.

This was the first “real” relationship I’ve had in quite some time, 8 years or so; of relationships altogether, nearly 4.  I don’t have a good explanation for such extreme breaks.  My feelings have been hurt.  I may have even been burned in the past.  But I can’t say that my heart was broken or that I was bitter.  Instead, I found some undue comfort in preventing those things.  Much like other actions generally tied to relationships, abstinence is the only true way to prevent…

For all intensive purposes, I would say this man is a good (not perfect, but good) man and, equally important, could have been good for me.  Unfortunately, I just wasn’t able to do what should come naturally.  Better said, I wouldn’t allow myself to do what did.

For whatever reason, I told myself not to get too excited.  I guess I thought if I kept my reactions calm and under control, I’d be able to prevent going overboard.  I went so far as to downplay my happiness and appreciation around friends, choosing to refer to him by a less than flattering but endearing nickname rather than simply using his name, avoiding the term boyfriend, trying so hard to not appear invested and vulnerable.  Unfortunately, that did not work for him and therefore we did not work.  I was actually dating a man who wanted to know what I was feeling and thinking about us.  He was the first one to speak of an us and call me his girlfriend.  I should have been ecstatic.

This is a longer post.  Depending on your reading speed, you might be in need of another song to get you through the second half.  Sade’s “Soldier of Love”

I was expecting games and slow, if at all, growth.  He offered (and similarly expected) straight honesty and a clear path to deeper.  Once I realized that he was being honest, not playing any games, I truly froze up.  I didnt’ know what to do.  It’s easy to dismiss and/or play along with something fake.  You just tell yourself you’re having a good time, going with the flow, intentionally not getting too invested, not even allowing yourself to daydream things’ll turn into something else.  Realizing someone you genuinely like may actually genuinely like you too should be exciting.  For me, however, it was terrifying and I, unfortunately and unintentionally, shut down.  Externally,  I was there, agreeing, participating, but not really giving.

I wanted to give.  Everything in me wanted to enjoy being happy and do what I could to try to make him as happy.  We both deserved that much.  And to be fair, I did give but it was only the things I’m generally comfortable giving.  I gave my time, my attention, my affection.  I didn’t give the things he went so far as to ask for; my emotions, concerns, fears, joys.

Every time I started to say or do something risky, I caught myself.  There weren’t any voices screaming in my head or flashbacks of horrible experiences.  I just didn’t trust myself, didn’t know how or where to start.  So I never did.  I was so worried what other people would think and whether my efforts/feelings would be understood or enough for him.  Unfortunately, instead of appearing scared, I simply appeared cold.  I cared way more than I let on and nobody understood that until I was upset it was lost.  I did a great job of protecting myself.  (Go me!)  In a sad way, I think I knew not trying would end it but at least I’d play some part in the decision; feeling  some sense of control albeit not positive.

While I wish I could have stepped up and done whatever my head/heart/gut wanted to do in the moment in this situation instead of overthinking and running, I still don’t really have any regrets.  I WILL be that woman eventually, maybe even as soon as next time.  I have the capacity.  I just didn’t have the confidence.  And I think it took me experiencing something that could have been real, could have been something, and essentially ruining it to get it.  His inability, or better unwillingness, to stick around hoping anymore very well might’ve been the swift kick in the ass I needed to wake up.

Despite our failure as a couple, I’m very happy to have considered this man a part of my life.  I don’t know if we’ll be friends but hope we’ll at least be friendly.  If I had a regret, it would be that he won’t be able to reap the benefits of his frustrations with me.  I’ve given more to less deserving people.  (Sad commentary, I know.)  Well…actually… I probably haven’t.  They just got more of the same…

I think I needed a  buffer to get me back into the mindset of dating to do more than satisfy a curiosity or a feeling of loneliness.  I needed something shallow for the sake of shallow but fun, a test run if you will, to get me ready for something potentially real.  Too bad this opportunity, this man didn’t come along after that buffer, rather than partially serving as it.  Things might’ve been different.  We still might not have worked out but it would’ve been because of something that happened between us, rather than something everyone from my mother to bandmate recognize to just be a part of who I am (right now), an onion if you will.  (Please note the Shrek reference.)
But he didn’t come along later, things aren’t different and you know, that’s just fine.  I’m just fine either way.

(Although, I must say, it’s a little frustrating not to be able to say something promising failed because it wasn’t meant to be, rather than being able to narrow it down to your inability to accept being happy as a realistic option.  A really wordy way to say we might’ve still failed but I wish I hadn’t have given myself an easy out.)

Ending the mourning process,

Jo’van

Quarterlife Crisis: Halloween Ho

So this Halloween I did it.  I did what every judgemental woman and man loves to see on Halloween so they can feel justified in their judgement.  I fulfilled the stereotype of women who just want an excuse to be naked in public.  I looked like a Halloween Ho.  Please note I said looked like a Halloween Ho.  Actions would require an entirely different post.  I just dressed the part.

While I generally judge, I can’t really say anything against people deciding to be half-naked in public.  Do what you do.  It just provides me with more things to point and laugh at.  So as one of these perpetually judgemental people, why would I volunteer to be cold and naked in public at the end of October?

There’s not a good answer to that question.  Or at least there’s not one that sounds good.  To be perfectly honest, the situation simply presented itself.  Between feeling more confident in my body, caring (a little) less about what strangers think of me, enjoying the company of my friends, having flatter abs than ever and someone providing me with the outfit AND shoes, saying no just would’ve been stubborn.  Not wrong, just stubborn.  I never did the teenage/college Halloween Ho thing.  I’ve always been covered and warm.  For whatever reason,  the outfits never really caught my attention.  I mean of course I noticed that attention they did grab but somehow I was above all of that.  This year, I wasn’t above, below, beside, behind, or anything else.  I was indifferent and thought “what the hell?”

Any regrets? No, not really.  I could use the justification that I was more covered than I would be at a beach.  But that scenario is flawed because I wouldn’t be the only person in a bathing suit.  Dressing like a pirate wench with her chest elevated, abs exposed and boots covering 4 times as much skin as her skirt, I didn’t expect to see too many people looking like me.  And to make things even worse, we spent our evening on the “classy” side 6th street, the infamous bar area of Austin.  (Yes, there are other interesting/entertaining districts, but 6th street is well known.)  Instead of hanging out with the 19 year olds with fake IDs and more skin showing than clothes, I instead hung out with the “I’m too old east 6th but still want to get drunk at a bar downtown on Halloween” crowd.  The median age was probably a year or two older than me and the metabolisms had already begun to slow down.  We were past the “all I consume is beer and pizza and I’m still a size 4” times in our lives.  The gym or bigger clothes are our only options.

And to be perfectly honest, I was uncomfortable at first.  The outfit was borrowed but I was still the most naked of my group.  (In fact, the lady I borrowed the outfit from was fully covered this year.  That’s just not fair.)  I wasn’t ready to be judged the way I judge.  But some vampire vodka, supportive friends, and realization that I would probably never see any of the people who might judge me again helped me get over it.  Bare the abs, fishnet the legs, zip up the boots, gloss the lips and straighten the wig, I’m ready to go.

Blushing after a car full of men yelled “Captain Jack Sparrow”.  Thanks, guys.  Thanks.

Jo’van

 

Fishnet Bar Battlewounds

Bar Battlewounds

I’ve already picked my outfit for next year.  As long as I get my legs in shape, I’ll be in search of a crazy blond wig, a dress with more fringe than length and Hanes stockings.  Tina Turner here I come!

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