Swiping Right by Carrie Joyner I always figured the next love of my life would happen organically. After 2 years of taking a break from the soul sucking world of online dating, I decided to jump back in because the old fashioned way of meeting men just wasn’t happening. Not the right ones, anyhow. The romantic notion of meeting Mr. Right in the frozen food aisle at the grocery store went out the window a long time ago since Steve Jobs put iphones in 90% of the populations hands. Human interaction is scarce these days. Eye contact is nothing short of a miracle. People would rather Snap Chat themselves with cartoon eyes and dog noses. -I don’t get it. -I don’t want to get it. I didn’t go hungry the past two years, don’t get me wrong. I just needed to kick start the process and increase the odds of landing a dream partner before I start thinking about getting a few cats and spending every night binge watching Million Dollar Listing and fantasizing about a career in high profit real estate. Putting yourself out there lends to some pretty deep self-analysis by being part of that online, fast food style relationship world. Don’t get me wrong, there are good men out there…but you have to cut through a lot of weeds to find a good one. With my iphone machete in hand, I began hacking away. Vessel of choice: Tinder I am tired of paying for the chance to meet someone who could ultimately end up wasting years of my life. I spent the better part of 2 years in 3 useless relationships because of that. Recently divorced and feeling the clock ticking in the last few years of my 30’s, I dropped the bar…forget raising it…and settled with three different men for the sake of being in a relationship. Mild levels of attraction led to a lot of time being complacent, at times anxiety-inducing and ultimately unfulfilling relationships. One was crazy, one was a jerk and one was just too nice. I just signed up two weeks ago, so about 50 matches later, 4 disappointing actual dates, I am taking a deep breath and getting ready for week three. The latest date was probably the strangest. A hot pilot who had been texting with me for about 24 hours before I found a hole in my schedule and asked him if he was free. He was, we set up a time and place to meet for a drink. He arrived 30 minutes late because he was stuck in traffic and took about ten minutes to establish consistent eye contact with me. This is where all that self analysis kicks in. The reality is that I am sitting in front of a total stranger. I don’t know if he has issues. I don’t know his back story or what really happened in his last relationships, or how hurt he had been in the past. The questions float around my head incessantly. -Is he not focusing because he is nervous? -Am I too good looking for him? -Am I not good looking enough? I finally hooked him in a topic that he was semi-passionate about and I had my eye contact at last. He didn’t want to leave, but I have to cut these things short unless there are fireworks. Plus, my dog needed a walk. He texted me after to make sure I got home safely, which was thoughtful. He asked if he could see me again and I said yes, because maybe that first encounter was just scratching the surface. I haven’t heard back from him all weekend and I am not going to reach out first …I am old school like that. Online dating is not how I imagined meeting my next boyfriend and hopefully husband, but it is the easiest way to start connecting to total strangers, some with good intentions, others not so much. It takes time, energy, thick skin and courage of steel to not cancel dates that seem like a good idea while couch surfing with chardonnay. Total exposure. But I guess you can’t win the lottery without buying a ticket, so let the games begin! -Carrie Joyner
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I Left the Love of My Life by Karen Cross (cir. 2013) I left the love of my life because I thought I could do better. Now I'm childless and alone at 42 Laughing and dancing with my fiance at our engagement party, I thought I might actually burst with happiness. Surrounded by our family and friends, I looked at Matthew and felt certain I had met the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Quite simply, he was my soulmate. It all seemed so simple to my naïve, 19-year-old self. I was, I smugly told myself, the girl who had it all. So why, 20 years later, do I find myself single, childless and tormented by the fact that I have thrown away the only true chance of happiness I ever had? Eight years after that wonderful engagement party in 1989, I walked away from dear, devoted, loyal Matthew, convinced that somewhere out there, a better, more exciting, more fulfilling life awaited me. Only there wasn't. Now I am 42 and have all the trappings of success - a high-flying career, financial security and a home in the heart of London's trendy Notting Hill. But I don't have the one thing I crave more than anything: a loving husband and family. 'My father warned me not to throw this love away. But I was sure I'd find Mr Perfect around the corner' You see, I never did find another man who offered everything Matthew did, who understood me and loved me like he did. Someone who was my best friend as well as my lover. Today, seeing friends with their children around them tortures me, as I know I am unlikely ever to have a family of my own. I think about the times Matthew and I talked about having children, even discussing the names we would choose. I cannot believe I turned my back on so much happiness. Instead, here I am back on the singles market, looking for the very thing I discarded with barely a backward glance all those years ago. I know I can't have Matthew back, and it hurts when I hear snippets of information about his life and how content he is. Fifteen years after I ended our relationship, he is happily married. At this time of year, so many people will be assessing their lives and relationships, wondering if the grass is greener on the other side. Many will mistake contentment for boredom, forgetting to cherish the good things they have. I would urge those who are considering walking away from such riches to think again. How different things would be for me now if only I'd listened to Matthew when he pleaded with me not to leave him in 1997, tears pouring down his face. I was crying too, and it tortured me to watch the heart of the man I loved breaking in front of me. But I was resolute. 'One day I might look back and realize I've made the biggest mistake of my life,' I told him as we clung to each other desperately. How prophetic those words have proven to be. 'I will always be here for you,' Matthew promised. And I, arrogantly, thought that somehow I could put him on ice and return to him. Matthew and I met when we attended the same comprehensive school in Essex. We started dating just before Christmas 1987 when I was 17 and studying for my A-levels. By that time he had left school and was working as a motorcycle courier. We got on like a house on fire, and our families each supported the relationship. Before long, we had fallen in love. Matthew was romantic but incredibly practical, something that would later come to annoy me. His gifts to me that Christmas were a leather jacket - and a pair of thermal leggings. Two weeks later, when we'd been seeing each other for less than a month, he proposed. We were in my little Mini Clubman when he shouted at me to stop the car. Scared something was wrong, I braked in the middle of traffic and we both jumped out. Then, oblivious to the other drivers beeping their horns, he got down on one knee in the middle of the road. 'I love you, Karen Cross,' he said. 'Promise you'll marry me one day.' I laughed and said yes, thrilled that he felt the same way that I did. In the summer of 1989, while out for a romantic meal, Matthew proposed properly with a diamond solitaire ring. Two months later, we held our engagement party for 40 friends and family at the little house we were renting at the time. The following year, we bought a tiny starter home in Grays, Essex, which we moved into with furniture we had begged, borrowed and stolen. We giggled with delight at the thought of this grown-up new life. I was in my first junior role at a women's magazine and Matthew worked fitting tyres and exhausts, so our combined salaries of around £15,000 a year meant we struggled to make the mortgage payments. But we didn't care, telling ourselves that it wouldn't be long before we were earning more and able to afford weekly treats and a bigger home where we could bring up the babies we had planned. But then, the housing market crashed and we were plunged into negative equity. Struggling should have brought us closer together, and at first it did. But as time went on, and my magazine career - and salary - advanced, I started to resent Matthew as he drifted from one dead-end job to another. I still loved him, but I began to feel embarrassed by his blue-collar jobs, annoyed that, despite his intelligence, he didn't have a career. Then he bought a lurid blue and pink VW Beetle. Why couldn't he drive a normal car? Things that now seem incredibly insignificant began to niggle. I began to wish he was more sophisticated and earned more. I felt envious of friends with better-off partners, who were able to support them as they started their families. I stopped seeing Matthew as my equal. I stopped seeing all the qualities that had made me fall in love with him - his fierce intelligence, our shared sense of humour, his determination not to follow the crowd. Instead, I saw someone who was holding me back. I encouraged him to find a career and was thrilled when he was accepted to join the police in 1995. It should have heralded a new chapter in our lives, but it only hastened the end. We went from spending every evening and weekend together, to hardly seeing one another. Matthew was doing round-the-clock shifts, while I worked long hours on the launch of a new magazine. Our sex life had dwindled and nights out together were rare. I stopped appreciating little things he did, like leaving romantic notes on the pillow or scouring secondhand bookshops for novels he knew I'd love. He was my best friend, yet I took him totally for granted. After festering for weeks about his shortcomings, I told Matthew I was leaving. We spent hours talking and crying as he tried to convince me to stay, but I was adamant. My parents were horrified that I was walking away from a man they felt was right for me. My father's words to me that day continue to haunt me. 'Karen, think carefully about what you're doing. There's a lot to be said for someone who truly loves you.' But, I refused to listen, convinced there would be another, better Mr Right waiting around the corner. I moved into a rented flat a few miles away in Hornchurch, Essex, and embraced single life with a vengeance. By now I was an editor on a national magazine. Life was one long round of premieres and dinner or drinks parties. Matthew and I remained close, even telling each other about new relationships. But though I'd dumped him, I never felt the women he met were good enough. I can see now I was acting out of jealousy. I clearly wanted to keep him for myself. Our closeness was, however, called to a halt in 2000 when he met his first serious girlfriend after me, Sara. One night shortly after his 34th birthday, I phoned to ask his advice about something. Matthew was unusually abrupt and asked me not to call him again. 'Please don't send me birthday or Christmas cards any more either. Sara opened your card last week and was really upset. I have to put her feelings first.' I hated the fact Matthew was suddenly putting another woman before me. How dare she come between us! Over the next few weeks, I'm ashamed to say I vented my spleen at both of them in a series of heated phone calls. I was completely irrational. I didn't want Matthew back, but felt upstaged by Sara. Unsurprisingly, after one particularly nasty argument, Matthew put the phone down and refused to take any more of my calls. I didn't realize it at the time, but I would never speak to him again. Shortly afterwards, I met Richard. It was a whirlwind romance, and within a year we were engaged and buying an idyllic farmhouse in the Norfolk countryside while I continued my journalistic career, commuting to London. He was a successful singer and, as we toured the country, I thought I had finally found the excitement and love that I craved. But Matthew was never far from my thoughts, and Richard complained that I often brought him into conversations, even comparing them both. They were so different. Although outwardly romantic, Richard was repeatedly unfaithful, and I never felt secure enough to start a family with him. Eventually, after three-and-a-half years together, he walked out, having admitted his latest paramour was pregnant by him. My life fell apart. Over the next year, I struggled to pull myself back together and did a lot of soul-searching. I finally understood what my father had meant. I realized Matthew was the only person who had loved and understood me. When I heard through a mutual friend that he had split up with Sara, I wrote to him, apologising and asking for forgiveness - and a second chance. It was six years since we had last spoken, but naively I thought he would want to hear from me. What I didn't know was that Sara was still living at the house and it was she who opened my very personal letter. It included my phone number, and she left me several angry, hurtful voicemails. Yet again, I had inadvertently caused problems in Matthew's life, so it was unsurprising I never heard from him, despite writing several times over the next few months. In the end, I left it at birthday and Christmas cards, thinking he'd find a way to get in touch if he ever changed his mind. Then, I heard a couple of years ago Matthew had married his new partner, Nicola. For a few moments I couldn't breathe, then the tears came. Matthew and Nicola still live in Essex and, as far as I know, don't yet have children. That's the next milestone I truly dread. It's been 11 years since Matthew and I last spoke, and I have to accept that door has closed. Perhaps he has found what he is looking for and I am a distant memory. I have had one other significant relationship since Richard - with Rob - but that recently ended after four years. Rob reminded me a lot of Matthew. He was decent and honourable, the life and soul of the party but with a kind and sensitive side. But we were each too jaded by previous heartbreak to make it work. And while I wanted children, he had a grown-up son and didn't want to start over again. So once again I am on my own, my mind full of 'if-onlys'. If only I'd stayed with Matthew, we'd almost certainly be married with children. Or, maybe Matthew wasn't the right man. I will never know the answer, but my decision to leave him has definitely cost me the chance of ever becoming a mother. Now I can only look back and admonish my selfish, younger self. When I visit friends and family back in our home town, I can't help but hope I'll bump into Matthew. I'd like to think I'd say sorry. That I will always be there for him. But I wouldn't be surprised if he turned his back on me and kept walking. To those out there thinking of walking away from humdrum relationships, I would say don't mistake contentment for unhappiness, as I did. It could be a choice you'll regret for the rest of your life. Are You Willing To Pay The Price? by Frank Kermit I have been coaching for nearly two decades at the time of writing this article. There are times when I feel very proud and inspired by certain coaching clients of mine. And other times, I see really good people, with really good hearts, just not acting as if they are willing to do the work necessary to have the love lives they so desperately claim to want. It takes hard work and sacrifice to makes changes in a person’s life. The more ingrained and practiced your repeating behavior patterns, the more challenging it will be to change those same behavior patterns and replace them with new behavior patterns. Learning the theory of addressing the emotional needs of others (and standing up for yourself) is just a first step in the process. Putting it into practice, especially when you are not used to it, can be a little more intense than what most people are comfortable with doing.
The result is the same. Your refusal to speak up ensures that you will continue feeling bad due to the actions of others, as well as, it ensures you will continue to build up feelings of resentment against the other person. Resentment can kill even the most devoted feelings of affection between two people. There is a price to pay for having a great love life. It means stepping outside of your comfort zone and committing new behaviors to change very specific situations in your life.
There is no waiting until you feel you are ready. Chances are you will never be fully ready. That is the price: To commit to new actions even you do not feel like it. It is a high price of discomfort to be sure. Just keep in mind the potential benefits you will acquire in the long run, in exchange for some short-term pains: A love life that brings smiles instead of tears Frank Kermit The Year Of Firsts After Loss by Frank Kermit The first 12 months after a tremendous loss is the hardest. It is the first time you will experience yearly events without the person or element you lost. Your first birthday without the person. Your first holiday season without your previous career. Your first significant day of importance, without your precious pet. Each time you experience a date of significance, without your loss, it is a hard reminder of the events that lead to the loss to beginning. It is important to remember that as each year passes, it WILL get easier. When they say time helps the healing process, that does mean that time will make the hurt go away. What it does mean is that with time comes experience of being able to go through each year after your year of firsts. And with each passing year you get more experience at getting used to your life without your loss. So hang in there. Expect that the first year is going to be the hardest. And, over the years, you will have new people, new jobs, and new pets to cherish and celebrate with you. -Frank Kermit Is there such a thing as Happily Single? By Frank Kermit Is being single really that bad? After all, when a person considers the amount of pain that a relationship or casual dating can cause, it may seem that just skipping the whole dating-thing altogether might make for a more peaceful life. Could it be that intimate relations are simply not for everyone, and maybe you happen to be one of those people? How do you know if being alone is the right choice for you and is it even possible to be content, o r even fulfilled in a life without romantic love? As always, that answer is completely up to you.
Without having experienced what a health loving relationship can be, or not having experienced the positive attributes of being with someone that cares for you, it is challenging for someone to see the value is pursuing a goal they have no concept of.
In these cases, people tend to be encouraged to work on themselves before entering into romantic relationships so that the challenges inherent with romantic relationships do not distract the people from the healing process, nor allow the romantic relationships to exasperate a persons energy causing them not to have the personal resources to slay the demon. This is most commonly understood when someone enters a drug and alcohol treatment center where patients are forbidden to have relations with each other and contact with loved ones must be limited. Dismissed as laziness by some, the lack of willingness to put in the work required to change behavior patterns is nothing to scoff at. Changing anything in your life forces you out of your comfort zone. It takes work. The motivation to make such changes may very well require that someone hit an absolute rock bottom before having enough gumption to finally make that change. The same principle applies to changing the status of a persons love life. It is unfortunate that people require that kind of rock bottom to reach a point where the pain of staying where they are is finally greater than the pain of making a change. When I am asked if it is better to be in a relationship that is bad, or being alone, I often quote one of my inspirations. To paraphrase: "Are you better off with that person, or better off without that person?" There is no set answer. It completely depends on the context of your situation. There are a number of other factors to consider in the answer to this question.
If you complain about being in a relationship, again do something about it.
If you are trying to figure out if you want to give up on love or not, one of the ways to decide this for yourself is to sit down and work through the differences between your feelings towards single life and your desires for the kind of lifestyle you want for yourself. Start with your ideal lifestyle and work your way backwards to your current present date. Once you have that ideal (and REALISTIC) lifestyle mapped out, see if you are the type of person that can actually attain it, and if you would be able to attract the kind of partner that you yourself would need to be. Frank Kermit P.S. Do you Agree With This Article? Disagree? Have something to Add? Write your thoughts in the comments below and share this article to see how many of your friends think like you. I'll Tell You Where All The Good Men Have Gone by Arun Eden-Lewis Search the words, “Where have all the good men gone?” and dozens of anecdotes, articles, blogs, and books will appear on your screen. Overwhelmingly, this question is posed by women, discussed by women, and answered by women. This, ironically, is an essential reason for these so called man-deserts—men are simply not being asked to contribute their opinions and perspectives. And the good men themselves are increasingly less likely to offer their point of view, for many reasons. I do not seek to apportion blame here, on either side, but simply to address this question from the seldom-heard voice that is the object of the question itself: good men. The last 100 years of suffragettes, feminists, and political correctness have challenged and continue to challenge thousands of years of patriarchy—and rightly so. Consequently, the roles of both men and women have been transformed and redefined. While we struggle to adjust to the new and still evolving status quo, the war of the sexes has taken millions of casualties. In Western culture, divorce rates for first marriages range from 42 percent in the U.K. to 53 percent in the U.S. to a staggering 71 percent in Belgium. Subsequent marriages fare even worse. The spectre of divorce is another contributing factor in the conspicuously expanding man-deserts. Many men, having seen their fathers broken by divorce, fear the loss of their assets, their homes, and their children and are simply stacking their chips, choosing not to gamble, and checking out of the marriage casino. Family courts invariably award primary custody to the mother, while the father is restricted to weekend access, supervised visits, or left to literally climb the walls of Buckingham Palace in a superhero costume to protest rights for dads. Men—will they ever grow up? The ridicule and debasement of men in the media and mainstream culture is now pervasive. Watch a commercial, sitcom, or movie, and invariably an immature man-child or dumb dad is the butt of the joke—the hapless buffoon. Fortunately, these silly men are always saved from themselves by a smart, witty woman or a conscripted, eye-rolling child. The emasculation of men has become normalized. Sensibly, rather than have their balls cut off (sometimes literally, and that often gets a good laugh), men are running for cover in their droves, leaving women mystified and asking, “Where have all the good men gone?” When I was in secondary school, perhaps 14 years old, there was a girl who patrolled the playground, egged on by her gang of girlfriends, kicking the boys between the legs. Clearly, she had been informed by someone this was the quickest, easiest, and funniest way to bring those stupid boys down to earth. One day it was my turn. Caught by surprise, I crumpled to the ground after a swift kick to the balls, in too much agony even to cry out. Oh, how the girls laughed! Even then, I abhorred a bully. The following day, I found my attacker in the playground and, contrary to my upbringing, without warning I kicked her swiftly between the legs. To everyone’s surprise she also crumpled to the ground, in too much agony to cry out. A crowd of cheering boys slapped me on the back—their new avenger. The girls stared at me wide-eyed in shock—a boy who fought back? No one had told them that was allowed, surely it was against the rules! Equality: it’s a son of a gun. I remember feeling no satisfaction or honour in defeating a weaker adversary but sometimes, especially in the case of a bully, personal satisfaction and honour is not the point—standing up to their aggression is. As I grew into a man—a good man—I learned to walk away from provocation, as most good men do. Boys are stupid, throw rocks at them!” Remember the T-shirts launched in 2003? Followed by coffee mugs, posters, even a book.“Boys tell lies, poke them in the eyes!” Another favourite for young girls at the time. It took a fathers’ rights activist to have this merchandise removed from thousands of retail stores. Inevitably, he was ridiculed by a myopic majority. Presently, in some areas of the U.K., 80 percent of primary schools have three male teachers or less, one quarter of primary schools have no male teachers at all, and some towns have 65 percent single mother families. Man-deserts indeed. A young boy can go to school and have no adult male role model, and then return home and have no adult male role models. Young girls are achieving significantly higher academic standards than young boys. This feminisation of schools spills over into university, then the workplace, and eventually the home, completing the insipid cycle and the marginalization of both boys and men. I was born in 1968. I grew up with a strong mother, four stronger sisters, and no father. I was taught, not only by my family but also by wider society, to regard women as my equal, and I always have. Yet, unknown to me, a generation of women were being indoctrinated and trained with a sharp-edged tool kit designed to emasculate men. Men have been subjugating women for centuries; now, they’re getting payback. It seems only fair. The fox has turned on the hounds and she’s packing a punch, or a kick to the balls. But the nature of men when faced with a fight is to fight back, either psychologically or physically. Clearly there are no winners in this scenario. The relentless competitive struggle to determine who wears the trousers is simply a turnoff for many men. Many are just opting out of the kind of psychological warfare that is common in relationships today, unwilling to engage in the minefield of mind games, which are usually executed in three ways. The first is the habitual belittling and denigration of men, in private or in front of friends, family or colleagues, for what is supposed to pass as humour. The second is letting a man know, casually of course, that other men are sexy, have better looks, more money, talent, or fame. The third, and perhaps the most destructive is being told over and over, “We don’t need no man. Men are obsolete.” I’ve lost count of how often I’ve heard this since adolescence. If you tell a man often enough that he is surplus to requirements, eventually he will stop expending his energy to convince you and himself otherwise. Men are rapidly waking up to this phenomenon of man-bashing, so much so that a disillusioned social movement has arisen with its own freshly-minted acronym: MGTOW, Men Going Their Own Way. Supported by websites and online forums, men are regrouping with a common cause, a sense of brotherhood, and finding their voices again. The essential precepts of MGTOW are financial independence, rejection of chivalry, social preconceptions of what a man should be, and consumer culture which defines masculinity by a man’s house, car, clothes, watch, or cologne. It is the refusal to be shamed into conventional compliance by being told to “man up.” Many aggrieved MGTOW refuse to marry or even date Western women, the more ardent among them consciously choosing non-committal relationships, strippers, pornography, or celibacy. Above all, goes the MGTOW mantra, maintain sovereignty of self. I have been dating for more than 35 years, and back in the 1980s, a man was expected to pay for the movie tickets, dinner, flowers, chocolate, the diamond ring, the house. In each subsequent decade these social conventions have slowly eroded, yet to a greater or lesser extent still remain. Long-held social biases, like the wage gap for example, take time to bring to full equality. It is important to recognize, however, that equality is a two-way street. It is abundantly clear that many men and women are struggling to walk along that street in close proximity, let alone hand in hand. Why? Because for a century we have been digging up and bulldozing said street. Now, it’s full of potholes, power struggles, and barely fit to travel. Yet travel it we must. The original message of equality has been somewhat skewed. Women often recycle the poorly thought-out doctrine that they are the same as men. Equality is not always sameness, and sameness is not always equality. For example, women have equal opportunity to go to war and fight side by side with men, but the physical standards to allow them to do so are not the same. And this can be seen across a whole spectrum of professions, from firefighters to ballet dancers. Equality is not always sameness. Difference is diversity, and should be a cause for celebration, not dogmatic elimination. Men are often told (but, again, not asked) they are afraid of strong independent women. Many men, tired of such futile debates and wary of being branded a misogynist if they dare to disagree, are simply shutting down and becoming emotionally unavailable to women, taking permanent residence in their man-caves. The truth is, men love strong and independent women—it turns them on, in every way. What men don’t love are the predominantly masculine traits that often go along with the package. The relentless competitiveness (necessary in the workplace no doubt, but hardly necessary at home in a loving relationship), the verbal aggression, the emotional manipulation, and the psychological controlling are huge turn-offs. Increasingly, men are just not interested in competing at work and then having to come home and compete with their partners. In the sphere of heterosexual relationships, most women are not attracted to emasculated feminine men, which is fair enough. By the same token, most men are not attracted to masculine, domineering women. So, these are some of the general and specific issues creating man-deserts, from the perspective of good men. But what solutions are there? Waking up to our social conditioning is a good place to start. Many women are beginning to reject the modern brand of feminism, the so called third-wave that is tantamount to thinly veiled misandry. Equally many men, for two or three generations now, are rejecting the attitude that a woman is some kind of second class citizen. We clearly have work to do on both sides. Letting go of these destructive modes of thought, communication, and behaviour is an essential process for healthier and happier relationships between men and women. However, denying these issues will in no way change the interpersonal landscape for the better, and women will continue to ask, “Where have all the good men gone?” while wandering an ever-expanding and barren man-desert. So, where have all the good men gone? For now they have gone their own way. But they are out there, in the same desert, contentedly swimming in the oases they have found for themselves, no doubt waiting for the fourth-wave of feminism to wash over them so we can all truly embrace equality, just like the first-wave promised.
The Power of the Yoga Community and the Drive-By Divorce By Carrie Joyner The main idea when I created my yoga and fitness studio was to build a community of like-minded people; people who loved yoga, people who wanted to get healthy and fit and strong…mind, body and soul. I had no idea how important this community would become to me until about 2 weeks after opening the doors and had just experienced a drive by divorce. If you have ever started or owned a business, you probably know how stressful it is. You bet it all on red, dedicate months or years (in my case it took about 2 years of planning, financing and finding the perfect location, location, location) to even get to the point where you could actually consider it being “in business”. Add on to that the end of a marriage that involved a 4 year old son, and it was a recipe for disaster. So what is a drive-by divorce? It’s getting a text from your husband asking you to come outside at lunch time. I told him to just come into the studio, I had a pole dancing class going on and wanted to make sure all went well. Then it’s getting another text saying “please, it’s really important…”, so I went outside. I was greeted by the black Mercedes SUV, opened the door, got in and found my now ex-husband staring at me with red eyes and tear stains on his custom fit Armani suit. He didn’t say much as he drove literally to the other end of the parking lot, where he parked the car and looked at me and said “You aren’t in love with me anymore, and I am not in love with you…we are getting a divorce.” Simple as that. The conversation was a bit of a blur. I remember it not being a conversation, more of a speech. I asked him what his next move was, and he said it was to go home and get his stuff. He was moving into a near-by hotel, it’s just over. My only concern at this point was not me, but our son. I said “What about Shane? What do we tell Shane?” “Nothing”, he said, “tell him I am on a business trip until I figure it out.” I got in my jeep and drove far, far away- not wanting my clients or staff to see me crying. I headed to my best friends house on auto-pilot. She wasn’t there, so I headed back to the studio and did a few more hours of work like a robot. I couldn’t think, move, feel….breathe. It was a sucker punch to the heart. I thought things were getting better, he said they were. Apparently not. The next few days were a blur. I was in shock but trying to act like things were normal for my son, who was totally out of the loop. Every morning I woke up, took my son to daycare, went to the studio and tried to get through the day. Working on and at the studio proved to be the perfect distraction. I was an open door kind of girl, and anyone- staff, client, teacher, etc. knew that they could always pop in and say hi or talk to me. This revolving door of mostly females became my tribe. Literally. I would tell them what was going on if they had the intuition or inclination to ask, and I would repeat the story a million times over. Not only did I find women who had been through the same or a similar situation and even some men, but I found a sounding board and it became like therapy to me. Between emotionally fuelled lawyer visits to trying to be zen and teaching my yoga classes, my studio became more than a studio. It became my happy place. When we were under construction, I wanted a big executive office in the back room with cameras and an intercom-but I ended up putting my tiny desk in a tiny closet right off the lounge and reception area, so I actually sacrificed luxury for the benefit of hearing every conversation, every client at the desk and being 10 feet away from my staff at any given time. Which leads me to Merissa. I heard a woman freaking out at the desk about a canceled Pilates class. We used Mind Body software, which allowed us to see who had registered for what class, so if there was a cancellation for whatever reason, we could contact them to notify them of the cancellation. She did not register, but showed up at the “regular” time and was livid that the class had been cancelled. I think the teacher was sick and we couldn’t find a sub. Whatever the case was, I decided to go out and talk to her. I asked her if she wanted some tea. We sat in the lounge and sipped on tea as she vented about how far she’d come expecting to do her class and go home and make dinner. I apologized, things happen sometimes that are out of control. I guess she saw that I wasn’t my normal bubbly self and asked if I was alright. I said no, not really. I was a little overwhelmed with what had happened. I explained what I was going through and in the blink of an eye she went from an angry client to a person with the best words of advice I have yet to hear. She told me about one of her best friends who had been married to a pilot, and he did the same thing. In this case, there was another woman involved. What she told me next wouldn’t change my life, but it did change my outlook on everything. She said “the best thing you can do right now is take care of yourself and your son. Get yourself into the best physical shape you have ever been in, focus on being happy and spoiling yourself. Don’t do this to make him feel bad, do it to make you feel amazing and not sit there thinking about the why’s and the poor me’s.” This did not make everything better. It did not change the situation or my grieving process. But after Merissa, I talked to literally hundreds of women, of every age, who had similar stories. I stopped feeling like I was the only person this had ever happened to. I started to let go of the blame and anger and I started to feel really, really connected to every person who walked through my doors. We all have a story. We do. Once we learn to embrace the fact that everyone is going through, has gone through, or will go through a life altering struggle- we become one. That community that I started building became my pillar of strength in a trying time. They say everything happens for a reason. I believe it. -Carrie Joyner P.S. Do you Agree With This Article? Disagree? Have something to Add? Write your thoughts in the comments below and share this article to see how many of your friends think like you. Towards Polyamory? A Personal And Unfinished Journey By Ken Polyamory is a new term and concept for me. It has arisen in my consciousness as the result of an ongoing search for meaning in my life, and as a term that represents a new way of looking at relationships, commitment, fidelity, sexual freedom and personal values. For me it encompasses feelings of fear and insecurity, but also feelings of belonging, connectedness and liberation from old patterns and stifling conventionalities. I am thinking about polyamory, among a number of relationship options, as a viable and possibly joyful form of intimate engagement with others. First, a bit of background. I am a 64 year old gay man. I came out in my late 40s – a late bloomer by any definition. I had a good (sometimes very good) 27 year marriage with a loving woman, and together we raised two daughters. However (and I suppose this is “a tale as old as time”, as the song goes) there were increasingly protracted periods of depression and frustration as it became clearer to me that this identity was untenable, and I left my marriage. I set out on a new path. In the meantime, I retired and moved from Saskatchewan to my place of birth, Nova Scotia. Of course, leaving my identity in Saskatchewan as a heterosexual family man, as a worker and more recently as a member of a GLBTQ community, had its challenges and adaptations, but today I am in an almost 4 year relationship with a loving man. However, there are still stirrings of discontent and frustration. I am still on a journey of discovery, unpeeling layers of personal history - genetics, upbringing, the aging process - and within that context attempting to carve out a life that represents who I am. Who, in fact, am I, and what do I want? My partner and I introduced the idea of non-monogamy into our conversation about two years ago. In those two years we have experimented, including others in our sexual lives, both separately and as a couple. My partner wanted the experience of variety, and I wanted to find a less rigid and conventional means of expressing my sexuality. We have stopped and started this process a couple of times, due primarily to my discomfort. We have very different views about sex. For my partner, sex is sex, a recreational activity whose goal is mutual pleasure. Nothing more. It does not involve emotion or any level of commitment (other than the potential for FWB: Friends-with-benefits). For me, sex is about connection and belonging, intimacy and meaning. Sex is about love and friendship and commitment. So we come to polyamory, the concept of experiencing more than one intimate partner, of sharing lives in a deep and meaningful way with multiple participants, and of enlarging and engaging with one’s notion of relationship. For me this is a fraught process. The very idea of engaging intimately with someone other than one’s partner, and other than in fantasy, has been utterly foreign to me. The process of expanding my sexual contacts has pushed so many buttons – insecurity, confidence, value judgements, fear, anxiety, aging and sexual performance, abandonment, aloneness, jealousy, social censure. On the other hand, I firmly believe that we should never expect one person to satisfy all our needs – a huge responsibility to place on another’s shoulders, and an abrogation of our own responsibility for our own lives. This part of my personal journey, undertaken at a time when many people are questioning the meaning of their lives as they settle into old age, remains unfinished. In my worst moments, I feel a sense of extreme anxiety, and sadness and loss at the discarding of values and beliefs by which I was raised and to which I subscribed throughout my life. In my best moments I look forward with optimism and excitement to the expansion of possibilities in relationship and connection. Author Bio: Ken was born and raised in Nova Scotia, and after working in Western Canada for almost 30 years, retired and returned home to the Halifax area. He is a painter, gardener, reader and cat herder. Below are two youtube videos of interviews Frank Kermit was involved with regarding Polyamory
P.S. Do you Agree With This Article? Disagree? Have something to Add? Write your thoughts in the comments below and share this article to see how many of your friends think like you. Boredom is NO EXCUSE for Divorce By Frank Kermit Couples coaching can be some of the most intense sessions possible. Partly because it is about trying to understand two different points of view, but also partly due to each partner reacting to triggers from what the other partner is trying to communicate. It can be very draining for all parties involved. Emotions are high. An established couple has the pressure of maintaining the relationship and trying to get to the next level, without losing what they were initially drawn too by the coupling.
What one person interprets as BORING may actually be a collection of ABILITIES that produce successful serious long-term relationships. If you are aiming for a divorce, make sure you are doing it for the right reasons. Boredom, without any other contributing factor, is not one of them. It can be very easy to take for granted all the things that we actually value about our current relationships for the pillar reasons mentioned above. Do not make the mistake of having to lose what you have, and needing the experience of being without them to make you appreciate whom you got right now. Frank Kermit P.S. Do you Agree With This Article? Disagree? Have something to Add? Write your thoughts in the comments below and share this article to see how many of your friends think like you. You Do Not Have Time For Toxic People By Frank Kermit When I lecture, coach or regularly talk on the radio about Toxic people, I usually define Toxic people as lacking the capacity to reason, or people who have the capacity to reason but just do not want to reason with you. I often advise that the best way to deal with a toxic person is not to deal with that person at all.
However, sometimes a “toxic” person may not be typically toxic at all. In fact the person could be a very caring friend of yours that simply is giving you bad advice or encouraging you in ways that are not in your best long-term interest.
Here are some examples
Even if the person pushes you in discouraging yourself from trying new things because that person just wants to protect your feelings in case those new things do not work out; regardless of the intent, that person is holding you back and not doing you any real favours.
Maybe your best friend has your best interests at heart, or maybe your best friend is jealous of your date and doesn’t want to lose spending time with you. Either way, if you have a chance at finding a decent partner to have a serious relationship, and a person in your life is pushing you to give it up before giving it a real chance, that person may be toxic for you.
The person could attempt to join you on your new outings that encourage your new sought out healthier lifestyle, but isn’t interested, and attempts to guilt you into going places you would rather stay away from, that person may be toxic for you. There will be consequences such as some hurt feelings, and maybe a little resentment from the people that you put some distance with. On the other hand, the consequences might also include a newfound sense of adventure for life, new confidence in your ability to more forward, and even the best possible serious romantic relationship ever. In the long term, it might be a pretty good trade. P.S. Do you Agree With This Article? Disagree? Have something to Add? Write your thoughts in the comments below and share this article to see how many of your friends think like you. |
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