Equally Yoked - or How My Buddhist Husband Brought Me Closer to God

I am a Christian. A grew up in church, saved and baptized when I was 13, born again at 25, filled with the Holy Spirit - evidence of tongues - Christian. My husband is Buddhist.

When my husband and I met he was studying Buddhism but had not fully immersed himself into the religion so it didn't bother me much. After all, we all get a little side tracked now and then, but he'd grown up Christian and we loved the same God.

But as our relationship progressed and he became more dedicated to the Buddhist path the dogma of my Christian upbringing and youth spent in church began to cause me a bit of uncertainty.

I was never one of those girls who grew up planning their wedding. I never imagined what my husband would look like, or what kind of flowers I'd have. I didn't spend hours picturing our first dance or how my hair would be styled. Those things just never really mattered to me. I did have one picture of a dress torn out of a magazine that I tucked away for that special day but that was the extent of my 'when I get married' fervor.

When it came to getting married, there was one thing though that did matter. One thing that I knew would be an all or nothing stipulation for my groom to be and that was that we would be 'equally yoked'.

"Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? And what communion hath light with darkness?" (2 Cor. 6:14, KJV).

My husband and I would both be Christians, go to church together, pray and read the Bible together and love the same God.

So as Matthew and I became more serious I started to worry about how 'unequally yoked' we appeared to be. I believed in Jesus... he followed Buddha. And that's where I got hung up. But our relationship progressed, we got engaged and as any 'good Christian' wife-to-be would do, I began praying for his conversion or 'return to God' in time for the wedding.

I've always had a slightly different view on God and the Bible than most Christians I know.. some things I'd been taught just didn't add up with the God I knew in my spirit but that yoking thing was apparently drilled in pretty deep because it really started to wear on me. But I had faith and was sure he'd 'come around' and everything would be fine. I mean he grew up in a Christian home.. his dad was a Southern Baptist minister for crying out loud.

No go back... you didn't say that right...drop your voice an octave......

slow down.....

and try again.. 

Suuuuthernnn Baptist. There you go. We're talking DEEP South Southern. 

To the point where if Matthew was caught trying to read a book about another religion his parents would take it and properly scold him about the dangers of letting in demons and the like by reading anything other than 'Godly' material. So I thought surely this Buddhist thing was just a fad.. a lingering rebellion and he'd snap out of it and go back to being a Jesus freak like me.

What I didn't know then.. and has taken me almost 3 years to realize is that He loved Jesus and God the same way I did all along. He worshiped the same God. We had the SAME beliefs. He just used a different method on his path to spiritual growth than I did.

I recently had an extended Facebook debate with a Christian friend who is the exact same as I was back before I decided to stop putting God in a box and let Him be GOD. She in short 'educated' me about how Buddhists worship Buddha as their God, and how they thought Jesus was 'below' Buddha and how she had no need or desire to read about any religion other than her own and from no other book than the Bible because that's what a Christian was supposed to do.

Needless to say I failed in my attempt to help her see how grossly incorrect she was in pretty much every statement she made because even though she'd never read one single thing about Buddhism she knew all she needed to know about it because she read the Bible.. and that gave her the right and authority to tell me (I'm paraphrasing here) that my husband - and I by proxy - was going to hell for worshipping false Gods and that she'd pray I found my way back to the 'real' God. Because apparently mine was fake.

It made me sad... for her.. and for myself - because I'd been just like her for so many years.

Blind in my 'faith' and unyielding in my views. Funny how easy it is for us to skip over or completely forget what the Bible actually says when it suits us... I mean I'm pretty sure Jesus said that we should Study and show ourselves approved.

"Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. "  (2 Tim. 2:15, KJV).

Our different faiths actually caused some problems the first year of our marriage.. I wanted a strong spiritual head of my home.. a husband that 'led me' in the right path who sat down and read the Bible and prayed with me and Matthew's Buddhist practice of meditation and mantras just wasn't giving me that. It wasn't that he didn't try... he did... it was that I wanted him to believe like I did and anything else just wasn't good enough.

Thank God (literally) that I've always been open to His voice and leading - even when I wasn't open to anyone else and I finally realized that I was being selfish. I wanted my husband to follow my faith my way yet I couldn't even be bothered to so much as read a webpage about his... his faith and spiritual practice that was just as important to him as mine was to me and here I was completely disregarding it because it didn't fit in the box I'd put God in.

It was hard but I finally opened my mind to learning something knew and in the process I found my heart opening more to God. The same God I grew up learning about and loving in small town Southern (did you say it right this time) Baptist church. Learning about Buddhism didn't make me a Buddhist, or less of a 'Christian'. It didn't take away from my faith and it wasn't going to condemn me to the fiery depths of hell.

What it did was open my eyes to how amazingly big and wonderful God truly is. God can't be put in a box.. and just because I call him 'God' and you call him 'Dios' doesn't mean we're not worshiping the same marvelous Creator.

This is a slight segway in this particular post so I'm only going to mention it briefly but I feel it warrants attention. You may have noticed that I spelled God in both English and Spanish as explanation that people may call God by a different name but He's still the same God....

Allah... is GOD in Arabic... it literally translates to 'the God'. Little mind blowing trivial for the Muslim haters out there. Same GOD.. different LANGUAGE.

Now back to Jesus...

By being open to actually educating myself about something I was unfamiliar with I learned that the core teachings of Buddha and Jesus are almost identical. In fact - Buddha taught those same core teachings a few hundred years before Jesus was ever born. If they'd lived in the same time I fully believe they would have been best of friends and brothers in their mission to bring the world to enlightenment through peace and love. 

Now I personally claim Christianity as my 'religion' because it was Jesus who led me to God.. it was through Jesus' story that I learned who God was and developed the amazing relationship that I have with my Creator today. For my husband.. it was Buddha's teachings that brought him to that place.

He doesn't worship a different God than I do... he doesn't discredit Jesus for what He did by dying on the cross. He's not anti-Christian or a lost sinner because he's Buddhist. His journey to God just took a different fork in the road than mine did.

.... The important thing to know here is that this forked road didn't take us on to separate paths... it brought us to the same one.

I now have a closer relationship with God than ever and my husband and I, both as individuals and as a couple, are growing leaps and bounds in our spiritual walk. A walk we're taking together.

Fairytale Love

When I was growing up my mom had a bookshelf full of Danielle Steele & Harlequin romance novels. Around the age of 15-16 I started reading them.

I read about star crossed love, all consuming passion, feeling like someone was the center of your universe.. I read about fighting and making up, I read about overcoming insurmountable obstacles for love. I read about hot sex.... - well they were romance novels.

But the thing that stuck with me most in all of the books was the idea of what 'true love' was. What it felt like, what it looked like, how it made someone treat you and how it make you treat the person you loved in return.

I read that true love was all encompassing, breath taking, joyful and heart breaking... I read that true love always won... that true love conquered all.. and since that's pretty much what I'd been taught in church and reading the Bible it didn't seem all that unreal or unreasonable to me - in spite of never really having experienced that kind of love first hand or having seen it between my parents or family members.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7 ESV

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant (5) or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; (6) it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. (7) Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

I believe to this day, with all my heart that I truly loved the person I was in a relationship before my husband. He ended up being abusive and it took me 3 years to finally walk away. I know you're thinking.. she probably said she stayed because she loveeeeed him and that is what most women in those types of situations do say. Well I did love him but I stayed because I was scared, and young and naive and didn't know any better. When I finally left it wasn't because I realized that I didn't love him.. I did.. it was because I realized that I loved myself more. Sometimes love means walking away - especially if it's one sided.

That relationship put a big dent in my view of love. I could say there were many other factors in there as well - my birth father was never a part of my life (abandonment issues).. I never felt like I belonged or fit in with my own family (never good enough).. or really that I was even liked, much less loved by most of them (unlovable)... I have always been different from everyone else I've ever known... I didn't have a relationship with my mother... the list goes on and on and while some, hell probably most of those things probably had and to some extent still have some effect on the way I love and allow myself to be loved they never broke the dream of what I, in the deepest part of my heart, believed love was supposed to be.

All the hurts and let downs I've had in my life never crushed me to the point where I gave up on or stopped believing in love.

After leaving my ex it took 5 years of being single before I even dared the idea of putting myself 'out there' again and even attempt dating much less opening myself up to loving someone or being loved in return, but I finally did and I met my husband.. whom I love dearly.. and who loves me dearly in return.

But even with that love being returned things aren't the way I dreamed they would be.

Lately I've been feeling lost in life...my joy seems to have gone missing and I'm having a hard time finding it. This funk, for lack of a better word, I've found myself in has resulted in me becoming much more 'needy' of my husband than I usually am and it's also made me much more aware and affected by things he does that I normally would be able to brush off. When I ask for your attention I want it NOW, not when you finish the level you're playing on your game, or when you finish reading a couple of e-mails or whatever it is that you're doing that doens't involve your very real human live wife! It's also brought me back to what my idea of love is...

My husband says that the kind of love I talk about only exists in movies or romance novels. He says that the husband I want him to be isn't reasonable, realistic or even possible. I say he's wrong.

This leaves me in a scary place... I believe with all of my heart and soul that the kind of love I believe in is real... and I believe that my husband and I are 100% capable of experiencing it and showing it to one another, but I wonder can two people who've never been shown or experienced that kind of true love find their way to it.

My husband's parents divorced when he was young - his mom and dad fought a lot and from what I understand didn't have the best relationship. His mom remarried as did his dad and while both are still married to their respective spouses neither of them have a kind of relationship I'd call normal or healthy. His mom & step-dad are pretty apathetic about life in general. I've never seen them be affectionate to one another or heard them tell each other I love you. His dad and step-mom are an uber Christian version of a Stepford house. His dad is the 'man' of the house and his step-mom does his every bidding and agrees with everything he says. Neither of those reflect the kind of marriage I want.

So neither of us grew up with great examples of healthy happy love... and where I'm apparently a romantic at heart, he's a very fact based, scientific reasoning driven realist. Which lately leaves us both in a not so happy place.

I believe that next to God your spouse comes first. I believe that a human living wife should take precedent over ANY electronic devise - well unless it's a defibrillator and someone is in cardiac arrest - and that it takes spending time together, communicating and cherishing each other to have a happy marriage.

I believe....I believe that I've come to a point where I'm stumbling over words and have no idea where I want or need to go with this anymore....

I guess that's the thing about using writing as a cathartic means... you just write until you get out what you need to get out and eventually - finished thought or not - you run out of steam.

Ladies and gents I seem to have reached that point... I'm spent. My heart is breaking, my soul is weary and I'm deep down to the bone tired.

I spent a lot of time crying today and calling out to God for some kind of peace... some kind of help to regain the joy I used to have in life, to regain the connection I used to feel with Him and a way to fill the emptiness that is currently devouring my soul... and while I didn't get an audible response I do think He answered.

We have rows and rows of books in our apartment and searching for something - anything - I came across "The Purpose Driven Life" by Rick Warren. I'm a big believer that God puts things in front of you when you need them most so I'm believing out of all the spiritual and religious books we have that this one stood out most for a reason.

"The Purpose Driven Life"  is 40-day spiritual journey that will transform your answer to life's most important question: "What on earth am I here for?"

And I think that's just what I need.

God is truly amazing in ways I can't even begin to put into words... as I'm typing this, crying, feeling lost I had a thought come through my mind... a quiet thought that.. in trying to be the best wife I can I've forgotten how to be the best ME I can.... In getting caught up in the role of spouse, I've lost who I am in the role of ME. In trying to once again take care of someone else in my life, I've stopped taking care of ME.

I expect I'll write a lot in the next 40 days... and Praise God I also expect I'll find my way back to who I really am in Him.. and I'll find my way to being the wife my husband needs and finding the man I need in my husband. Because in Him I KNOW the kind of love I dream about is real.

A Time for Reflection

As the year comes to a close it's that time again. Time to reflect on the last year and what it has meant. What we've learned, how we've grown - or not grown. Time to list all the things we'll do different next year and swear to stick to the changes we promise ourselves.


2011 has been an incredibly intense year for me. There have been many changes, losses, new adventures and lessons learned.


In February my mother passed away after a year long battle with small cell lung cancer. Her illness, or rather our different reactions to it, caused a huge rift between myself and my brother and sister that is still healing and mending itself.


Shortly after that my little brother's phychotic now ex-girlfriend ran him over with her car. Yes literally. She mowed him down then took his wallet and left him lying in the street. Thankfully someone witnessed the whole thing and called 911. Praise God he was ok other than some seriously nasty abrasions and a messed up shoulder. The worst damage is the kind that is not visible.. and takes the longest to heal. It turns out he was the second boyfriend she'd hit with her car and is awaiting trial.


We also moved into a new apartment, in a new city in February. My work on the BP oil spill response relocated to Gulf Shores and after staying in a hotel for 2 months and only visiting our apartment in Mobile one day a weekend we decided to just relocate. Matthew found a great job with a company he loves & I left working as a contractor for BP and began work - still on the spill - as a contractor for the USFWS.


In March my husband and I went on a 10 day belated honeymoon to Scotland, London & Paris. Our second time ever to travel out of the country and we had an AMAZING time. Even getting lost - literally - for 6 hours in the forests of the Scottish Midlands couldn't take away from the beauty of our trip.


I had a combined 8 months of health issues and illnesses which took an enormous toll on me physically, mentally and emotionally. Being sick is hard.. being sick for over half of the year is brutal. As soon as my doctor would get one health issue fixed another would show up. 4 months of female reproductive malfunction, followed by 2 months of severe intestinal issues, followed by 2 months of bronchitis and upper respiratory gunk is enough to make a girl want to go mad. I'm still not 100% but I'm getting there.

Last month we attended a combined family reunion, Thanksgiving, my dad's 50th celebration and I was reminded once again how different I am from the rest of my family. It was a four day trip but after two we left to come home. An evening of witnessing underage drinking ruined it for me & I just didn't want to be there anymore. I often wonder how I ended up being the only person in my entire family who has such a strict moral code. Not to say my family doesn't have morals.. they're good people.. but they are much much more laid back about things than I am and it often causes conflict and tension. There are some things I will just never be willing to "relax" about.

On Friday Dec 23rd my work with the spill response will end and I will join the ranks of the unemployed, which in a good economy is scary enough... in a crappy one it's terrifying. We also live in a resort/vacation city and unless you have experience in hotels, restaurants or retail there is really not much work. I have 15yrs experience in a professional environment - it just doesn't happen to be any of those 3. Thankfully Matthew has the ability to transfer with his job so if worse comes to worse and I can't find work here we have the option to move to somewhere that has a more diverse job market.

And those are just the big things... this truly has been a beyond belief eventful year. There have been so many twists and turns, lessons and hardships that I'm honestly surprised I survived it.

I'd like to say I have this great hope for next year, that things will get better, and I'm sure after the holidays pass and things settle down I'll get to that place, but for now.. I'm just tired. I feel like I've been running a marathon for the past 350 days and I just can't ever catch up to the other runners. I feel bruised and battered and like I just need to crawl in my bed, pull the covers over my head and sleep for a year.

Doesn't paint a bright picture for a jolly Christmas, I know. *Shrugs*

Like all things.. this too shall pass. I just hope it passes quickly. I'm ready to stop feeling like I'm watching my life pass by and start feeling like I'm actually living it.

Da dum da dummm....

Except from my and Matthew's 'The Knot' Wedding Page

When Matthew instant messaged Mollie on OKcupid.com Saturday September 28th 2008 at 2:40pm she checked his profile and thought "Cute... but kind of nerdy".


September, 28, 2008


(2:40:43 pm)Ranger_1:hi. how's it going? :-)
(2:44:52 pm)Dmplgrl1124:hmm not sure if this thing is working or not
(2:44:56 pm)Dmplgrl1124:ah there it goes
(2:45:03 pm)Dmplgrl1124:fine thanks lol and yourself
(2:45:30 pm)Ranger_1:LOL I hear ya about this new IM :-P


Little did she know, it would be his 'nerdy' brilliance, quirky humor and obsession with IM Smiley Faces that would break down her walls and ultimately win her heart.

The last time I wrote about my relationship with Matthew was back in Sept of 2009 and at that time things were, to put it mildly, on shaky ground. In June 2010 our failure to communicate finally got the best of us and we broke up. We were still living together (in torturous pain), still loving each other and still having no idea how to fix what we'd broken.

In a desperate attempt to put back together the pieces of the truest love I'd ever known I took the advice of a co-worker and bought 'The Love Dare' by Stephen Kendrick for Matthew and myself. Fast forward one month.....

Tuesday July 20th was the day Matthew and I had set to discuss the growth and changes we'd seen in our relationship over the past month and decide if we were going to 'give love a chance' and get back together officially or put the 'relationship' to bed and just stay friends.

We're sitting on the bed facing each other and had the following conversation:

Matthew: 'Do you honestly truly believe we can work?"
Mollie: "Of course I do, if I didn't I wouldn't have fought so hard to save us" (bawling like a baby here)
Matthew: "Ok, that's what I wanted to know".
Matthew: "The other day.. we were walking back to the office from lunch and I realized... I'm in love with you"
Mollie: (Stops breathing)
Matthew: "I'm in love with you and I want us to be together"
Mollie: "I do too" (I'm a little too unsure of where this is going - and crying too hard - to say much more)
Matthew: "There's something else too" (and he takes my hands in his)
Mollie: ???
Matthew: "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to marry you"

At this point I'm speechless, over joyed, ecstatic, terrified, and about every other emotion you can imagine all rolled into one.

Mollie: "Uh, Um, Uh.. Are you serious? Are you saying what I think you're saying?!?"
Matthew: (Smiling at me being a mess) "Yes. I'm saying I love you. I'm IN love with you and I want to marry you"

I finally gain a little brain function back, suck up obnoxious amounts of snot and do my best to form a coherent thought

Mollie: "Ok so, you made a statement..... is there a question in that somewhere?"
Matthew: "Yes, yes there is."


Matthew: "Mollie Abshire..... will you marry me?"


Mollie: "OF COURSE!!!!!!!"

I can honestly 100% credit that book for saving our relationship.

Our original plan was to have a one (1) year engagement and get married on the day he proposed but then mom's cancer took a turn for the worse and we moved the wedding up.

When we'd talked to each other about plans and what we wanted, a simple wedding on the beach with just immediate family was what rang truest to who we were, but being the oldest child, the last one mom would likely see marry I wanted to try to do the whole big wedding thing for our families.

We found a mansion, a caterer, dj, the works and put a gob of deposits down on everything, but the more planning we did the more stressful it became and the less happy we were with it. So at the risk of pissing off our family (which it did) but making ourselves happy (which it did) we cancelled the entire thing and decided to follow our original idea and get married on a beach. In Orlando.

We sent out updated invitations (yes we'd already sent out invites for the big wedding) inviting immediate family to Florida and extended family and friends to the reception that would be held locally the following Saturday. To make the 8-10 hour drive for parents and siblings worth while - though our wedding should have been enough - we rented 3 suites in the resort hotel where we were staying and bought one day tickets to Disney for everyone that came. In the end we ended up hosting my mom, dad, step-mom, brother, sister and nieces, Matthews mom, step-dad, brother, and niece, and it was absolutely perfect.

Matthew and I drove to Orlando Wednesday Oct 6th, checked into our suite at Mystic Dunes Resort and spend Thursday and Friday exploring Universal Studios. Friday evening the family arrived and Saturday morning we all woke up (at the butt crack of dawn), got dressed and headed to Paradise Cove for a sunrise ceremony overlooking the water.




My mom and dad both walked me down the isle, I cried when Matthew and I read our opening prayer, Matthew pretended to lose my ring and the rest turned out more beautiful and perfect than I could have possibly dreamed.







After the ceremony we loaded up (me in my dress, and Matthew in his suit) and headed to the Contemporary Resort at Disney for breakfast. Then we all changed and took the monorail to Disney's Magic Kingdom.



Let me tell you 9 hours at Disney is a LONG day. 9 hours at Disney after 2 days at Universal Studios is.... there are no words.

We had a blast though. Marley & Lexi had a blast, Matthew and his step-dad wrote scary rides, I took a ton of pictures and mom cruised the park in a scooter and out-lasted us all!

Sunday, Matthew and I did a quick sweep of 2 more of the 4 Disney Parks. I have two things to say The Hollywood Tower Hotel and OH SHITTTTTTTTT!. Then Monday morning we packed everything up, checked out of our room and drove home.

Today is Saturday January 22nd, we've been blissfully married for three (3) months and twelve (12) days and I truly have never been happier in my life.

He is my best friend, my lover, my confidante, my soul-mate. He challenges me, encourages me, motivates me and when necessary lol puts me in my place and keeps me in line and I love him with every fibre of my being.

I learned that gut feelings can sometimes be wrong - or at least confused. I learned that no matter who or what we think our 'type' is, it will inadvertently turn out to be someone completely different. I learned that changing your last name is a HUGE pain in the butt, and that I'm so happy Matthew has the same last initial as me so at least my monogram didn't change.

What will change though is my blog... or my blog name rather. The Crazy Cat Lady is no more, and thanks to my husband I now have a name fitting of day time TV so coming soon to a blog near you - a new header, a new look and a new name - ...... The Mollie Allen Show!!

For more wedding and Disney/Universal pictures visit my Facebook Page

Hello blog.... it's me again

I'm Alive!!!!


I know all 3 of you readers out there have been wondering where I'd wandered off to

It's been just under a year since I last wrote and although 'I've been super busy' is actually true that's only half the reason I haven't written until now

The last 12 months have been the most impactful years of my life. There's been good times. There's been bad times. And there's most definitely been ugly times.

I'll start my year long catch up with the most ugly.

In January of 2010 my mom went into the emergency room for chest pain. Having chronic pneumonia the last several years she thought they'd find some gunk in her lungs, give her an antibiotic and send her home.

Well they found something in her lungs, but it wasn't fluid. It was cancer. Cancer in her lungs, cancer in her liver and over the course of the last year - cancer in her spine, bones and brain. She's had 3 different type of chemotherapy, one round of radiation and she's been hospitalized twice; once for 3 weeks with pneumonia and clots in her lungs - and once for pancreatitis.

The pancreatitis admission was the latest. Last Wednesday she text me saying she was doing good, starting to eat solid foods and the plan was to send her home Friday. Thursday evening I got a call saying she had a 4cm lesion on her brain and it was bleeding. I rushed to MS with my husband.... (yes my husband, but I'll save that news for another post) got to the hospital and learned that she wasn't expected to make it through the weekend. She was heavily medicated and barely able to talk.

Today is Friday Jan 21, 2011 and mom is home at my sister's. She's awake, talking, and eating but there's no doubt that cancer has had it's way with her. The bleeding was stopped with 6 units of plasma (Go Donate!) the swelling on her brain is being controlled with steroids, and she's been kept pain free with serious meds, but her cancer is still out of control and at this point she's just being kept comfortable until her time with us is done. Hospice comes daily to check on her and make sure she's comfortable and resting.

My mom is 53 years old and is going to die leaving behind 3 children, 3 grandchildren, brothers, sisters, parents and a host of other people who love her... because she smoked.

Even now she's most likely sitting in her wheelchair out on my sister's porch.... smoking.

And I will never forgive her for it.

Small-cell lung cancer accounts for approximately 20-25% of all cases of lung cancer.


The predominant cause of small-cell lung cancer is tobacco smoking.


Smoking is by far the leading risk factor for lung cancer. Tobacco smoke causes nearly 9 out of 10 cases of lung cancer. The longer a person has been smoking and the more packs per day smoked, the greater the risk. If a person stops smoking before lung cancer starts, the lung tissue slowly returns to normal. Stopping smoking at any age lowers the risk of lung cancer.

Love your children more than yourself. Love your parents, your spouse, your siblings enough to stop being selfish. SMOKING KILLS.

There is no doubt, no question, no yet to be determined medical test to prove it.

So do yourself and everyone who loves you a favor and Q.U.I.T. or be prepared to explain to them why you loved your cigarette more than you loved them.

'It's just to stressful to quit'. 'I'll quit when I'm ready'. 'I smoke because I like it'.... none of those are acceptable reasons why my 4yr old niece will only have vague memories of her grammsy.


emedicinehealth.com
Cancer.Gov

Webmd

For each and every thing... there is a time...

Today is Thursday, December 31, 2009. The time is 6:46pm.

It has been 3 months since I last blogged.
3 months since I was laid off from my job of 2 years.
3 months since the panic and fear set in that for the first time in my life I might have found myself in a situation I may not be able to find a way out of.

Today I can tell you that much has changed in those 3 months.

I don't start until January 11th, but I did, after submitting my resume to literally over 100 job postings, find a new job. The pay is less, and the benefits aren't free so money is going to be tight, but it's work with a reputable and stable company who instead of laying people off during the recession has consistently and continually hired new employees. It's also a company who has a tuition reimbursement plan and definite room for advancement.

Matthew and I celebrated our 9 month anniversary last week. I'm still not 100% sure he's "the one", but I am sure that with him I can be myself, and with him I can be happy... so only time will tell what that particular part of my future holds.

Matthew and I spent Thanksgiving together with my family and Christmas together with both of our families and I'm happy to say both experiences were really great. Due to me being laid off money was really tight so we didn't do any major gift giving, but we both managed to scrounge up a few dollars each for some small but heartfelt gifts. A gift we both would have happily done without, however, was the sinus infection we both got from my two nieces and sister, who all 3 woke up Christmas morning with runny noses.

I have regained all of the 17lbs I'd managed to lose this year and my health has slightly declined, but I met a great gal who is a personal trainer and as part of a business partnership we've formed, I'm going to do some tech stuff for her and she's going to kick my ass back into shape. As soon as I get over this sinus infection, that is.

One major thing that happened during the last 3 months is something that, while sucked, resulted in helping me take a major look at what I wanted to do with my life and actually take steps to make it happen.

I got a temp job at a company that creates and hosts websites and the day and a half I worked there reminded me how much I love the creative aspect of marketing and web design. I won't go into why I only worked there a day in a half - but I will say - be careful to make sure people aren't overly sensitive before you go correcting their e-mails.

When I lived in Michigan I did freelance work for small business owners, creating forms and brochures, and I really enjoyed the creative license I was able to take and the pride I felt at seeing my finished work being used to represent a company. I even came up with a business name to go at the bottom of all of my work. MJ Graphics & Business Design. Little did I know how handy that would be 4 years later.

So I've changed my major from Leadership & Cultural Studies - which I liked - but really had no idea what I'd do with - to Visual Arts with a concentration in Graphic Design. University of Mobile doesn't have a Graphic Design program so I withdrew from there and will be attending the University of South Alabama in the Spring and for the first time since going back to college I'm really excited about it.

I'm nervous about the unknown of course - I know I like creating, and I know graphic design is a field that I can relatively easily turn into a work for myself kind of job - but of course there is much I don't know and where there is the unknown fear is bound to be present. With that being said I plan to make sure my excitement about being in control of my future remains strong enough to out-weigh the fear of the unknown.

I got an email today from one of the OMT girls that mentioned a quote from Nelson Mandela that really hit home with me....

**After some research I found that this quote actually belongs to Marianne Williamson.**

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually who am I not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about you shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others”. - Marianne Williamson

I've spent 33 years being afraid... not afraid of failing.. but afraid of succeeding. As Peter Parker's Grandpa said "With great power, comes great responsibility", and well, I don't know about you but sometimes knowing that something you do can have a profound effect on many can be daunting. What if you can't hack it? What if you follow your dreams, but then everything falls apart? What if you don't live up to every one's expectations and let them down?

Irony is a funny creature... the last time I ever spoke to my ex-fiance in person I asked him...."What are you so afraid of?" and his answer to me was "I'm afraid I'll fail".

He had the potential to be an incredible person who was a light to everyone he came in contact with but he chose to be a bum and an irresponsible jerk instead and I just didn't understand why. Before I gave him a hug and walked out of his house I told him "The only way you can ever really fail is by never trying at all". Looks like my great advice has come back to kick me in the butt.

Well times are a changin' and this girl is ready to not only try, but to succeed. 2010 is the year I stop talking about how I want to live my life and start living it.

2010 is the year I take action to turn every dream I've had into a reality.

2010 is the year that begins a life of financial stability and abundance.

2010 is the year I will learn to accept the love others give me because I will learn to accept the love I have to give myself.

2010 is the year I let my family know that while we may be drastically different in opinions and frame of mind I DO love them dearly and couldn't imagine my life without them.

2010 is the year I allow every good thing the universe has been storing for me to come my way because I finally believe I deserve it.

2010 is the year my life will be everything I've ever hoped and dreamed it could be because......

2010 is My Year To WIN!!

Moving Forward by Taking a Step Back

Sometimes a sign of trouble in paradise is really just a
speed bump reminding you to slow down and enjoy the ride. ~Me

Yesterday Matthew and I reached a breaking point.

He'd called me like he does every morning so I can talk him through the drive home from work. He works nights and is often fairly exhausted by the time he gets off around 8:30am, so talking gives him something to focus on so he doesn't nod off while driving.

That call, like most conversations we've had the last few weeks ended up in an argument. It was silly and stupid and over nothing of any importance, which is why it was so upsetting to me. After ten minutes of trying to steer the conversation back to calmer ground I gave in and hung up on him. Sitting at my desk, crying, I realized that the time may have come to make a decision I'd been dreading for weeks, the decision that we really were just not meant to be together, that being in a relationship was killing the beautiful friendship we used to have.

I sent him a text and asked him to please not go to bed yet, that as soon as I finished up some work I was coming home. We needed to talk. He said OK. My boss had stepped out of the office so I dropped him a quick e-mail saying I had an emergency at home and had to go. Not entirely true, but not completely false either. The rest of my life was about to change and that seemed pretty important to me.

During my drive home I thought of all the things Matthew had brought to my life, all the changes I'd made as a person as a result of knowing him. I thought of what it meant to be with him, and what it would mean to be without him and as bad as things had been lately the thought of not having him in my life just took my breath away.

I got home, went into our room and sat on the bed. I'd cried all the way home and was still crying once I got there. He came in and sat next to me and for the next ten minutes that's all we did. Then he pulled me into his arms and I fell apart.

Through sobs and hiccoughs, I told him that as much as I loved him and knew he loved me something had to change. I told him that I thought that it might be best if we went back to just being friends, but I was too selfish to make that decision for us. I told him that having him in my life was the best thing that had ever happened to me, but lately all we did was argue and I just couldn't live that way anymore. I told him that where we once communicated so well, now we could hardly even talk without arguing. I told him that the thought us possibly breaking up was tearing my heart in two, but the way we were going, we'd end up not even being friends and that was just not acceptable.

We talked, we argued, I cried, Matthew sighed and when it was all over we'd finally communicated in a way we'd needed to be doing for months.

He was my best friend before we started dating, and in my inexperience, I expected him to somehow become 'more' when we became a couple. I'd loved him for just who he was before we got together, but when the friendship evolved into a relationship I thought somehow he should change.

Why? I can't really say. I know I sound like a broken record but not having ever been in a normal relationship has really put me at a huge disadvantage and growing up reading Danielle Steel novels has left a very unrealistic image in my head of what a relationship should be like.

And part of the problem was, he did change. He felt that I wanted 'more' from him and it left him feeling like I didn't think he was good enough. So he expended all of his energy trying to become what he thought I wanted from him, and in doing so lost the guy I fell in love with. The more he changed, the less I liked who he was, and the less happy I was the more he tried to change to make me happy. It became a viscous circle of me not being happy, him trying to make me happy, and his changes making me less happy, leaving him feeling more and more like he just wasn't enough, and the more he changed, the more I missed the person he was when we met. This was a monster I created and I didn't even know it.

On top of that we've both been under a great deal more stress the last several weeks than we usually are and without any other type of outlet, we ended up taking it out on each other. Money has been really really tight lately and you don't have to be a genius to know that financial issues are the number one killer of relationships. Add to that taking in the stray cat has left us with not only her, tracking food and litter everywhere, which drives this OCD clean freak insane, but four rambunctious kittens peeing and pooing every where but the litter box and draining finances even more with the increased need for food, litter and cleaning supplies. To make that worse, all of the shelters, kill and no-kill are full and we've had no luck finding new homes for them, so for the indefinite future we're stuck with 5 cats. And as someone who doesn't really like cats and hates fur and litter being everywhere, I can't even begin to tell you the stress that's brought me.

Being stressed, angry, hurt and generally frustrated for so long has taken a drastic tole on our levels of communication. When we first met we would sit and talk for hours about everything under the sun. Now, aside from niceties and required conversation we rarely speak to each other. And again, the mess I mentioned before has also had a lot to do with that.

Before Matthew and I decided to date we'd already planned on him moving in as a roommate. And even though I mean roommate in the literal sense of the word, it really was just going to be two friends living together. We were just going to happen to share a bed because my extra room was already occupied. That may sound odd but he'd already stayed the night a few times - as a friend - with nothing happening but sleeping and it worked great for us.

So we already lived together when we decided to start dating. Now I can imagine some of you going "Oh girl, that was your first mistake", but I don't think so. The real problem with living together and dating, was that the only other time I'd lived with a guy I was in a relationship with, we were engaged, and in every way but paper we lived as a married couple. So when Matthew and I decided to take our friendship to the next level I automatically slipped back into that role. I became Mollie Homemaker with someone who wasn't quite ready to make house.

To make an already long story short, we realized that we moved too fast. Matthew has never lived with anyone he was in a relationship with and I'd only lived with someone I was for all intents and purposes married to, and we didn't take the time to find a middle ground before getting together. So we're not breaking up, but we are backing off. Taking time to find a common ground for both of us where we're together but still living our own separate lives.

School starting back will help because I'll be gone from morning to late evening on days I have class, which will give Matthew some personal time, and help me not miss him so much when we're not together, because I won't be home sitting by myself while he's asleep in the next room. I'll also be doing personal training a few nights a week which will get me out of the house and give me some time to focus on me, which I don't do nearly enough.

It's strange, but once we talked everything through and realized what our problems were and what we needed to do to fix them the air around us just seemed to lighten and the happy couple we started out as found their way back. We spent the rest of the evening laughing and cutting up like we used to do. We were happy.

As for the "something is not right" feeling in my gut, it's abated and now my heart, head and gut are all filled with a warm happiness. What tomorrow will bring remains to be seen, but we know that we love each other and for today, that's enough.

The Half Way Mark

Today is my and Matthew's six month anniversary. We decided to try dating and see if we could evolve our friendship into something more back in January of this year, but it was on March 22nd that we officially decided to become a 'couple'.

I know normally anniversaries are counted in years rather than months, but as someone who's only had one previous boyfriend in her life, each month of being in a new loving committed relationship is a milestone. I told Matthew that we'd honor the day we became a couple each month until the 6th month, then we could move to yearly celebrations.

In light of my recent conundrum, the half-way mark has dual meanings. It marks six months into a loving healthy relationship, which is a first for me. It's also half way through the year I said I'd give us, give myself to figure out if being with Matthew is really what is right for us, for me.

When Matthew and I first met and started talking as friends, he was really good at giving me an unbiased outside view on my life. If I was stressed out about something he would give me his take on the situation and it usually helped me see things in a way I'd not previously been seeing, and it almost always helped me work through whatever issue I was dealing with. On the way home from Mississippi Saturday night I asked him if he thought he could possibly separate himself from our situation and be able to give me that same insight he did when we first met.

After taking a moment to think about he said yes, that he thought he could. So I asked him why he thought I was having such a hard time with deciding if we should be together or not, if we were together because what we had was 'right' rather than just comfortable.

In typical fashion before letting him answer I butted in and went on to tell him that I was afraid. What if I decided to stay together and spent the next 30 or 40 years loving him but always wishing things were a little bit more?. He is totally happy being together and my feeling that way would be completely unfair to both of us. What if I decided we should just be friends and then later realized that what we had was really what I'd wanted all along and it was too late to go back?

I'd talked to my mom the day before about how I was feeling and she asked me if other than the worrying about if he was 'the right one' or not was I happy, and if so then maybe I should just stop worrying about what I should or shouldn't do and just be happy now. I also shared this with Matthew.

He smiled and said "I think you just answered your own question. If you'd stop for a minute to think before asking, you'd realize that you usually already know the answer" What he asked me next took me aback a little. "Mollie, how much of your life has been happy?"

I just kind of snorted and cocked my eyebrow at him. My life didn't suck, but it hasn't really been that fantastic either. Looking back there are honestly very very few moments in my life that I can truly say were happy. I was a troubled child who hid feeling like an outsider by focusing on school and sports. I never had a close relationship with either of my parents and although we got along well, there was a large enough age gap between my siblings and I that we were never really on the same level. My brother and sister are 3 years apart and were always very close. They still are. I'm 7 years older than my sister and 10 yrs older than my brother so growing up I was more the baby sitter than best friend. I had a few friends in school, but always felt more the confidante than confider.

Matthew then went on to say that it could quite possibly be that worrying about him being the one or not isn't the problem at all, that the idea of being happy is what I'm having so much trouble with. As much as I want to be happy, being unhappy is where my comfort level is, it's what I'm used to, what I've always known. I've never really been truly happy and the idea that actually feeling like my life is finally OK, that I'm OK is out of the realm of possibility.

As with the article in my previous post that made the point that you can either have comfort or blazing passion, but very very rarely does anyone find both, I'd love to say his point made a light bulb of realization go off in my head, but all I feel is more confusion.

I'll fully admit that his theory has merit and is quite possibly part of the problem, just as I'll admit that my unwillingness to believe you have to concede passion for comfort is also a part, but even with those things being realized as issues there is still something else. Something I can't quite grasp hold of. Something that is stopping me from either letting myself go and enjoying what we have, or letting him go and us both move on.

Some people have told me - listen to your gut, it's always right. Some have said listen to your brain - it's more rational. Some have said - listen to your heart - it knows what you truly want. The problem is they all tell me something different.

My heart says - he loves me, and I love him. He treats me well and makes me happy. He makes me laugh and never fails to tell me how wonderful he thinks I am. It says you have passionate moments here and there, even if they're not quite what you'd like them to be. It says maybe those things can truly be enough, that being in love will come... eventually.

My head says - he's a good guy, he's got a steady job, he loves you for who you are. It says you got a good one, now stop being stupid and leave well enough alone. It says you were single for 24 years and spent 3 years being in love with an unstable ass and look what it got you. Then you were alone for 5 years before you finally got the balls to try and date. Do you really want to go through all that again? What if you screw this up and never find anyone who will love you the way he does, who will put up with your OCD issues and control freak crap?

My gut says - something isn't right.

So who do I listen to? Or do I listen to any of them at all?

I wish I knew, but I don't. What I do know is that I cry over this almost daily and something has got to give, and soon.

Passion Vs. Comfort: Do You Have to Have Fireworks to Have a Successful Relationship?

A friend who's recently been in a similar situation as the one I mentioned in my last post recommended this article Passion Vs. Comfort: Do You Have to Have Fireworks to Have a Successful Relationship?. It really says a lot and I wish I could say it made a light bulb flash in my head and led me to an instant decision I felt great about but that would be too easy. What I can say is that it's given me a little more to think about and maybe a different perspective to think about it from.

Here's an excerpt - you can click the link above, or below to go to the whole article.

Passion vs. Comfort. This is a post you don’t want to miss, inspired by a discussion on my (500) Days of Summer thread. Here’s the gist of it. Reader Lori writes:

I have been with a man who loves me, and has loved me, as close as one can get to unconditionally for over 13 yrs…. I was never totally madly in love with him, but he knew he wanted to marry me the minute he met me. I married him – BECAUSE he was a great guy in so many ways, minus the sky illuminating fireworks. Don’t get me wrong, intimate moments were always adequate…even pretty damn good at times. But never, well, you know…crazy great. Almost fourteen years later, I remain married and faithful, but with an empty space in my heart. And wondering if I aspired to mediocrity and lost out on the amazing feeling most of us have felt at some time, of true selfless love. I love him….but I’m not ‘in love’ with him. And that is what has happened to EACH AND EVERY married friend I have, (male and female) that married simply because of the reasons you mention… many have strayed, the others are simply living there…yet nobody’s home.

Everyone I know that married because the partner seemed a great choice, would be a great dad, etc. ended up divorced or unhappy. The FEW couples I know who are happily married – still love to hold hands AND ‘make-out’ – THEY married someone they felt intense chemistry for & vice versa…and of EVERY one of the divorced friends, several who are dating but have not found love, only ONE tells me she made the wrong choice leaving. The rest say they would rather be alone, than with someone and lonely.

Please know, I am not a cynic. I have SEEN & BELIEVE IN great love & marriage, but it SHOULD NOT BE treated as a business decision – it sounds great in theory – but it just brings way too much misery for way to many down the road – you better be pretty damn sure you wanna come home to this person, sleep with this person, and walk on the beach holding hands with this person 50 yrs later…because divorce.. from what I have seen… hurts. And living in quiet desperation…hurts.

Listen, I’m a 37-year-old dating coach who’s been married for less than a year. As such, I’m not going to sweep Lori’s points under the rug or deny her 13 years of pain. She feels what she feels, she’s seen what she’s seen, and it’s perfectly valid. In fact, it’s very persuasive.

However, without negating Lori’s take on things, I’d like to try to balance it out a bit. Because if you take as gospel what she says – “passion or bust!” – you might have a long and lonely road ahead of you. And I’d rather you have a happy relationship instead.... Page 2

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Hodge Podge

I've said it once and I'm apparently in need of saying it again.

I've been a bad bad blogger.

I realized yesterday that I've not really blogged much lately, and what I have blogged has mostly been the Operation Muffin Top(ple) stuff - re my attempts and failures at losing weight.

There's been a lot going on in my life and I suppose the reason I've not blogged about it is because blogging is kind of like my journal. If I don't write it in my journal (blog about it) then it's not really an issue and I don't have to deal with it.

But you can only escape life for so long so this is going to be a mish mash of catching up on everything that's been going on.

~> Operation Muffin Top(ple)/Raw Diet update - not much to report on this end. Matthew and I totally fell off the wagon last weekend. We had Mexican Friday night, which wouldn't be terribly bad except we ate as much as we would have several weeks ago and that "full" feeling left us feeling sick. Then we had Wendy's Sat and Sunday evening. I realized that your body quickly adapts to eating healthily and quickly lets you know it doesn't like it when you convert back to eating junk, so I had granola cereal with rice milk this morning and am currently eating a lunch of grapes, strawberries, carrots and celery with peanut butter.

~> Family - Nothing terribly exciting on this front either. My mom is currenly sewing costumes for Matthew and I for the upcoming Renaissance Faire in November. It will be the first either of us have gone to and we're pretty excited. My dress is the one on the left in the picture. I'm using different color material though so it will look slightly different.

Matthew's costume is a combination of a few patterns but basically he'll look a little like Aragon in Lord of the Rings. He'll have a tunic, jerkin, wrist cuffs, trousers and boots. Maybe a cape, we'll see.

The nieces are good as always. Paisley is growing so fast and looking more beautiful each time I see her and Marley is still smart as a whip and full of more energy than any one child should have. We're going to MS Friday night to stay over and visit with the girls and check out the progress on our costumes.

~> Kitties - Back in July a stray cat wandered up on the porch of our apartment building and kind of adopted Matthew and me. Against my better judgment we ended up taking her in and she ended up being pregnant. Now we have four 5-week old kittens running amock in the apartment. They've just started eating hard food and are learning to use the litter box. Some of them are doing well with both, some prefer the floor to the box and leave us lovely little piddle puddle surprises to find.

I'm not a cat person. I've never been a cat person and I'm not likely to ever become a cat person. When I lived in Michigan I got talked into adopting two kittens from a lady I went to church with and while I loved those kitties dearly, the stress of dealing with cat hair and scattered litter ended up turning my boys into more of a stress than a joy and I re-homed them both to the same lady. They now live terribly spoiled lives in the lap of kitty luxury.

Matthew wants to keep one of the kittens. I do not. Since bringing in Scathath (the stray) I've pretty much stressed non-stop about the little she spreads everywhere, the smell her poo leaves lingering throughout the apartment (even after scooping!), how she scatters her food all over the kitchen floor when she eats, and the massive amounts of dust and cat hair that seem to be everywhere now. Not to mention the new holes she's put in my leather furniture.

When a pet brings more stress into a home than joy then it's not a good idea to have it. So, as sad as it makes him, Matthew has agreed that it's best to put the mom and all 4 kitties up for adoption. Next week they'll be 6 weeks old and we're taking them to the no-kill shelter.

~> Matthew - now we get to the crux of my blogging avoidance. Not Matthew himself, he's still as wonderful as ever. I mean the guy will go to Dollar Tree with me just so I can play.
The problem is with me. If you've read my blog for any length of time you'll recall that aside from Matthew, I've only ever been in one relationship. From the age of 25-28 I was with the man who I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with. We were engaged. Twice. In the end he didn't want to grow up and I didn't want to spend my life raising a grown man so we parted ways.

For the next 5 years I was single. And when I say single I mean SINGLE. No dating, no flirting, no casual sexual encounters. Other than family and co-workers there was absolutely zero male interaction in my life. Last year around July I decided to change that and for the very first time in my 32 years, entered the world of dating. It was a combination of being tired of being alone, and sick of hearing my family ask me when I was going to 'find a good man' that finally prodded me into signing up on a couple of online dating sites. I chatted with a few guys here and there, but none struck my interest enough to actually meet until PT. Long story short, he was young, flirted well, I fell for it, got hurt and he moved to Japan. If you want the long story long - well you can read all about it here.

While the PT debacle was going on I met Matthew. He'd messaged me on OKCupid and seemed like a nice enough guy, if not someone I'd be into dating. We met, went out here and there as friends, but as time went by I found myself wondering what it would be like to be more. Cut to today - we live together and are going to be celebrating our six month anniversary on the 22nd of this month - next Tuesday.

I really can't say enough good things about this man. He's changed my life in ways I didn't know possible. I've become a better, stronger woman as a result of his love and support and for the first time in years started believing dreams were more than just things that disturbed your sleep at night. He's kind, hellishly smart and makes me laugh at least once a day. So what's the problem?

Like I said before - the problem is me. Matthew loves me, and has recently admitted that not only does he love me, but he is falling in love with me. He's asked me my ring size and recently talked about the idea of buying a home together in the future. He treats me better than anyone I've ever known and truly loves and accepts me for who I am. And although it's not as often as I'd like we have a fairly fantastic sex life. Yet in spite of all that I find myself wondering if he's the one. I find myself alternating between feelings of romantic love for him, and the love you'd have for a best friend. I find myself wondering what it would be like to flirt back with guys who flirt with me. I find myself knowing that I love him with all my heart, but being unsure that I'll ever fall in love with him.

We've talked about all of this at length, repeatedly, and of course as with every thing else, he's been wonderful and understanding. He says they're all normal feelings and that I'm only having such a hard time with them is because the one and only other relationship I've ever been in was about as far from normal and healthy as you can get so I don't realize that what I'm feeling is what all people feel when in a new relationship.

When I was with my ex-fiance he was my world. I never had any doubt what-so-ever that I loved him, was in love with him and wanted to be with him forever. I never so much as looked at other guys, much less wondered what it would be like to go on a date with someone else. I was also young and naive, and he was incredibly manipulative. I loved the person I saw on the inside, the person I saw that he could be, were he to actually try and he knew how to take that love and use it to his advantage. He knew how to cater to my insecurities, then use them to keep me under heel. Matthew thinks I was in a word, brain washed. Not like the 'I'm going to kill myself in a mass suicide because God is coming soon' brain washed, but manipulated to the point that I didn't realize things were supposed to be a different way. I don't completely discount that theory, but even knowing how much I let him break me down part of me still would like to think I was strong enough to have known what I was doing and had done so willingly.

So this is where I am - wondering if I'm staying with Matthew because I love what we have and don't want to be alone again, or because I actually love him in the way I'm supposed to. Fearing that I'm hanging on to something I know isn't right to avoid hurting us both and possibly losing the best friend I've ever had, yet afraid to break up because part of me thinks it might just all be my over-active imagination analyzing things into the ground that need no analyzing and that as soon as I end it, I'll realize I truly am in love and then it will be too late.


There are things that I want in a relationship that we don't have, but I don't know if those things are really important. I love music and dancing. Matthew likes music and is so white Carlton from Fresh Prince could learn a thing or two from him. I LOVE sports and going to ball games. Matthew loves sports but only goes to the game because he knows I enjoy it. We have interests that are the same but there are things I'm passionate about that just really aren't his thing and vice verse. He says it's normal, that you don't have to have everything in common, and I partly agree, but the person you spend your life with should be able to understand your deepest passions because they share them too.

Have you ever gone to an event with someone who only went because you asked, then spent the entire time not having as much fun as you could have because you knew they didn't really care to be there? That's the stuff I'm talking about - to know that I'll never dance with the man I love - fluidly - or never have him sit next to me at a game and cheer along with me are things that I'm not sure I can do without. They may seem like small things, but if you're with someone who shares your passion for something, imagine how it would be if they didn't. Imagine how your joy would be tainted because you can't share something you love with the person you love most - because they love it too.

Then there's the other guys thing. Last night we went out to eat and there were two guys in a truck next to us that were trying to flirt with me, and they were cute. Matthew is sitting next to me in the car but some part of me still wished I could have flirted back. Then when we got to the restaurant our waiter was really cute and part of my brain thought 'if I were with someone else I could flirt with him'. Matthew says it's normal to still think other people are attractive - what matters is whether or not you act on it. I think if you're with the person you're supposed to be with the temptation shouldn't even be there. So it makes me wonder.. is it really normal.. or am I with someone who should really just be a friend?

I'm pretty sure I've lost the smooth subject to subject transition this post started out with, but it's just really been something that's been weighing heavily on my heart and mind for some time now and I'm honestly at a loss as to what to do. I told Matthew that I'd give us time to see how things went and I still plan on doing that, but I thought having made a decision on what to do would take away the anxiety of not knowing what to do and it hasn't.

And that he's being so incredibly patient and understanding about all of this makes me feel even worse. He knows he loves me. He knows he wants to be with me. He knows I'm the one he wants. And I'm basically taking all of that love and telling him I'm not sure it's enough. It's not fair to him and I hate it, but I don't know what else to do. So if you've ever been in a situation like this please comment. No matter how your situation turned out or what decision you made, just knowing that this really is all normal and I'm not just a freak who has no idea how to be in a relationship would be a huge relief.

Until next time...

Hearing everything yet not listening to a word

Forward to 2:10 on the clip.



Lee: Do you understand the words that are a-coming out of my mouth?
Carter: Don't nobody understand the words that are comin' out of your mouth.

The clip is from Rush Hour 2. Jackie Chan's character Lee, is trying to explain something to Chris Rock's character Carter, and Carter is having a hard time understanding it. Lee thinks he is speaking clearly. He understands what he's trying to say, but his partner - even though he's hearing the words just doesn't understand what the message is.

I first titled the post Listening to Everything but not Hearing a Word but as I was planning what to write out in my head I realized that was a little backwards. Hearing is the primary function of the ear. Unless you are deaf you cannot help but to 'hear'. Listening on the other hand is a conscious action. It requires focus and intent.

Parents and children are prime examples. When we were kids, my sister and I took to calling our mom by her first name because when we called her mom she wouldn't answer. She'd be watching TV, or reading a book and we'd be like 'mom, mom, momm, MOMMM!' and nothing. But we could say her name one time and she'd answer. She 'heard' us say mom every time we said it, but it was just background noise. Like being at a ballgame and hearing that everyone around you is talking but not listening to what it is they are saying.

Last weekend Matthew and I got in a pretty big fight. I honestly don't remember how it started but the primary content was that at times we both feel like the other doesn't 'listen'. The next day we sat and talked about it and we're better and stronger than ever, but we realized that even though we can sit and talk for hours about nearly any topic under the sun, when it comes to feelings we both have a bit of trouble in the communication department.

He has a habit of not telling me when something bothers him and then when we argue about it he'll think he's mentioned it before, although I have no recollection of him talking to me about it. Sometimes I honestly just forget, but sometimes he'll think ' I need to tell Mollie such and such', and because he remembers thinking he needed to tell me he gets to thinking he actually did tell me even if he never actually got around to it. My sister does the same thing all the time. Didn't I text you about so and so? No? Oh.. well I must have just been thinking I Needed to text you, but never actually got around to it.

My problem is a bit more complicated. When it comes to feelings I can write all day and all night and express how I feel with ease. I can spout romantic, I can wax poetic, I can rant aggressiveness, you name it. If it comes to putting pen to paper, or type to screen as the case may be, I can talk about my feelings with my eyes closed and get my point across clearly and concisely.

But when it comes to actually verbalizing how I feel, the skill I seem to have with writing just doesn't transfer over. I can have what I want to say all planned out in my head. I'm going to tell him this, and how I feel about that, and how when he does this it makes me feel like so and so. Yet when I open my mouth the words rarely come out as intended. And the main problem with this is I think the words I speak match up perfectly with the thoughts in my head even though that is rarely the case. So when he says 'Mollie, you didn't say anything about that you said this' I get frustrated because I just know that I told him what I was thinking.

It's something we've realized is a problem and we're working on it, but it brings up some questions I'd like your thoughts on..


What do you do when you don't feel like someone is really 'listening' to you even though they truly believe they are and vice verse.

I make it a point to focus on Matthew when we're discussing something so I'm not only hearing the words he's speaking but I'm actively listening to what it is he's trying to say. And if I find myself distracted, which usually only happens on the phone, I'll tell him - Honey, I'm hearing what you're saying but it's just not sticking, can we talk about this another time so I can give you the attention you deserve?. This has proven to be a very successful way of making sure we really pay attention to each other when we need to talk about something important.

Feelings seems to be the only area of conversation where it isn't quite working.

Is it that neither of us are clearly expressing our 'feelings' or is it that both of us have preconceived ideas of what the other is going to say and that's what we really 'hear' instead of what is actually being said?

Matthew says I have a bad habit of assuming I know what he's going to say so when I answer him - I answer what I thought he said instead of what he actually did say. I totally concede that this is a possibility. He also concedes that he may actually think he's told me something but never actually got around to it. So we both know we have short comings, and we're working together to iron those out so we can better communicate when it comes to emotions. But I honestly doubt we're the only couple with these same issues. So...

What types of issues have you had with communicating with your partner/husband/wife/loved on?

Do you feel they don't really listen to you?

Do they feel you don't really listen to them?

Are you thinking one thing but really saying another?

And if you've overcome these problems how did you do it?

One thing we've decided to do is use a talking stick. They have one similar to the picture at Michael's that you can put together as a craft, but we'll most likely just use a wooden spoon from the kitchen. *The talking stick has been used for centuries by many American Indian tribes as a means of just and impartial hearing. It was commonly used in council circles to designate who had the right to speak. When matters of great concern came before the council, the leading elder would hold the talking stick and begin the discussion. When he finished what he had to say he would hold out the talking stick, and whoever wished to speak after him would take it. In this manner the stick was passed from one individual to another until all who wished to speak had done so. * Info courtecy of http://www.acaciart.com/

In other words - he who holds the stick gets to talk - he who doesn't needs to shut up and wait their turn. For two very intelligent verbally articulate people who love to make their point, it may turn out to be the most important use for a kitchen spoon ever.

He didn't mean it officer... he loves me

A couple of weeks ago Matthew and I watched the Will Smith movie Seven Pounds. If you haven't seen it I STRONGLY recommend you do. Fantastic movie. But be forewarned. You will cry.

In the movie there is a lady who is caught in a domestic abuse situation and won't leave because she is afraid her husband will hunt her down and kill her.

Last week I had the pleasure of being woken up at 12am by a blood curdling scream from the lady that lives in the apartment across the hall. As I shuffle into the living room I hear my boyfriend on the phone with 911 'I'd like to report a domestic dispute. Yes there is a woman screaming and a lot of bangs and crashes like furniture being thrown or knocked over'

This wasn't the first time the police have had to be called because the chic that lives across the hall and her boyfriend got into a tussle. This was, however, the first time that I actually feared for her life.

They were both 'recovering' alcoholics and she was supposedly on all kinds of anxiety & bi-polar meds and they got into somewhat loud disagreements rather often. On 3 previous times it had escalated to a physical level with them both screaming and assaulting each other at such a volume I called 911. The last time she had lied to the police and said he broke into her house (we all knew he had a key), but when they urged her to press charges and have him arrested she said no. She just wanted him to leave.

A few days later she caught me in the court yard walking my puppy and apologized. She said they'd both slipped and had started drinking again and that she'd stopped taking her bi-polar meds a few weeks earlier and flipped out and attacked him, but that they were both dry again, and she'd gone to the doctor and been put on a new medication. She basically said it was her fault he hit her because she was crazy and they were both drunks.

We stood by the door, me peering across the hall through the peep-hole, listening to crashes, bangs and screams for the next 13 minutes. At 12:15am everything went silent. She'd been screaming HELPPP for the past 2 minutes, and as much as Matthew and I wanted to barge across the hall and intervene we knew the best thing to do was wait for the police.

They finally showed up about ten minutes later. Ten minutes after everything went silent, twenty-five minutes after they were called. The police station is about 2 miles from our apartment. Matthew and I peek out the door and tell them what we'd heard and then continue to watch through the peep-hole.

The police knocked on the door and this is what followed...

"Sir, this is the police, please open the door"

Silence

"Sir, this is the police, we need you to open the door"

Muffled "Do you have a warrant?"

Mistake #1

"SIR! We need you to open the door NOW"

More mumbling - I couldn't quite make out what he was saying through the door this time, but whatever he said was not appreciated by the now 3 officers standing in the entryway between our apartments.

"Sir, we are not leaving until you open the door. If you do not open the door we will open it for you"

Muffled "You don't have any probable cause" followed by more mumbling

Mistake #2

"Trying to get legal is only going to get you in more trouble sir, you need to open the door NOW. We will not leave until you let us in!"

I should mention that the lady across the hall has a dog. It's a shar-pei-pit mix and has the disposition of Stephen King's Cujo. On a really really bad day. After a few minutes of hearing the dog bark and charge the door some comments were made about kicking the dog in the head, I think I may have heard that shooting it was an option as well.

After about fifteen minutes of trying to get the guy to open the door one of the officers makes a show of 'calling the team' to have the door forcefully opened for the loser across the hall since he seemed to have a problem turning the door knob and they decide to take a different approach. Note - they didn't really call anyone. I guess they hoped the threat would be enough for him to let them in. It wasn't.

Female Office: "Sir, this is officer so-and-so. Can you please open the door and let me in so I can see if I need to begin medical on the female?"

Silence

"Sir, please. Please open the door so I can check on the female and make sure she is ok"

There is a loud on the other side of the door, she jumps about 2 feet then runs down the 5 stairs to stand by the entry door. The 3 guy officers that were in the entry way suddenly get real business like. One takes position half way up the stairs to the 2nd floor, one is in front of the entry way door at the bottom of the stairs and one is on landing right to the side of the neighbors door. Guns drawn.

The next part was like a real life episode of COPS. The door opens a crack and things got crazy.

"GET DOWN!! GET THE FUCK DOWN!! GET ON THE FUCKING FLOOR NOW!!!"

Two of the cops grab the guy and face plant him on the floor while the 3rd handcuffs him. They drag him out dripping blood from his face and all down the stairs. Which we (Matthew) had to later clean. Then I hear the female officer yell.

"Beginning medical on the female!"

She was unconscious on the floor.

It took them around ten minutes to get her to come to. During which Matthew and I used lunch meat to lure Cujo into our bathroom because he kept lunging at the officers and medics that had come in to help. Let me say the ambulance got there a hell of a lot faster than the police did.

Things finally wrapped up around 2:30am. She declined to go to the hospital, I returned her beast of a dog to her and she once again apologized and begged me not to go to the apartment manager and tell them what happened because it may get her evicted.

I did though. Even though he could have killed her and had actually knocked her unconscious I knew that if left up to her he would be back. I didn't want to get her kicked out but I knew he wasn't on the lease and there had to be a way to get him out for good.

So I called our realty company and told them what had been going on. I told them that the people in the apartment above me had actually moved out because of the constant fighting going on in the apartment across from me. I told them that the police had been called at least 3 times in the past 6 months and this time the guy was arrested, the girl was unconscious and we'd had to clean up blood from the entryway. (I later heard the female officer tell the lady across the hall that the blood was from the officers slamming the guy on the floor. She'd asked if they should take pictures of the blood for evidence in case he came back.) I told them that while there was nothing I could do because the guy hadn't assaulted or threatened me, I knew they could take steps to have him banned from the property. The lady said she'd talk to the owner, make some calls and let me know what they could do.

She called me back later that day and said that a restraining order was being placed on the guy and they'd talked to the lady across the hall and told her he was not under any circumstances allowed back on the property. They told me to call them AND the police if I saw him again. He showed up with his mom two days later to collect all of his belongings. After being beaten unconscious the woman still helped him carry his stuff out, crying the entire time, then hugged and kissed him goodbye.

I spent the better part of a year watching my mom get pushed around and abused by a worthless piece of shit alcoholic. He threw my little sister across the kitchen once and threatened to throw me through a plate glass window. I stood up to him and although he talked a lot more crap after he didn't directly threaten me again. Then after swearing that I would never let a man hit me, I spent the next 3 years in an abusive relationship. So when a woman says "but you don't know what it's like... he doesn't mean to do it.. he loves me, you just don't understand..."

I get to call BULLSHIT. I've been there.

If you are with a man who abuses you in ANY way, verbally, mentally, emotionally or physically LEAVE HIM. And I say in ANY way for a reason. My ex-fiance only really hit me one time, but thanks to tactical training with a swat team he was quite knowledgable in inflicting pain in ways that never left a mark. He also beat me down mentally and emotionally until there was almost nothing of the strong woman I once had been left.

I don't care if you drop kick a guy in the face, no REAL man will EVER lay a hand on a woman. Granted if you do something like that you certainly deserve to have your ass kicked but that doesn't mean it's OK for a man to hit you.

You may think,

if I leave it means I failed at our relationship
if I try a little harder he'll stop
if I just don't mess up as much he won't get so angry
if I really love him I'll stay and 'help him' with his issues
if
if
if

There is no reason to stay in an abusive relationship. None. Ever.

In the beginning my excuse was that my ex-fiance had endured horrific things during childhood and just didn't know how to deal with them. Then I couldn't leave because I'm a perfectionist and leaving meant I hadn't been able to make it work, it meant I failed. After that it was that no one else would love me, and it wasn't always bad.. most of the time he was really great.

The number one reason women stay in abusive relationships is fear. Fear they won't be able to make it on their own. Fear that no one else will love them and they'll be alone for ever. Fear that the guy will come after them. Fear that they're actually not worth being loved and may really deserve being abused.

Well let me share something with you that surprisingly enough not many people know.

The opposite of love isn't hate. It's fear.

When you decide that you deserve love, and when you decide to love yourself the fear will go away. It may not be easy and you may have to bust your ass to get back on your feet, but you will make it. Trust me... I've been there. I ended up in a domestic abuse shelter because my ex threatened to blow up the house of the people I lived with. It was all hot air, but they believed him and kicked me out. I had no where to go. But instead of crying in my oatmeal and lamenting about how hard things were and indulging in the 'poor me' syndrome, I sucked it up and decided to take charge of my life, and I made it.

So can you.