I want to share something that is a bit out of my comfort zone because it is very vulnerable, but also I can say that I have some pride in it. The last year or so I have been going through the hardest journey of my life yet. It stemmed from my perpetually unmarried status, with realizing that the guy I was pursuing at the time might not be the one, and recognizing a defensiveness in me that felt unfamiliar and wrong. It fell in context of a presumably successful corporate career, but having had to move to a place I dislike to make it work, and being increasingly disenchanted and frustrated with the management world around me. My personal life was also rocked by my sister's near-death health crisis.
This journey started with my questioning why am I single - am I unlovable? Am I too choosey? Should I have just settled? But took me far beyond romantic relationships into the realm of the makeup of my being - how my patterns were learned at a young age and new but bad patterns were learned throughout my life. I worried I was nothing if not my patterns, and I had to dig deep to decide for myself if I had inherent worth and if I was enough to deserve unconditional love. The mantras of "you have to love yourself first" may seem helpful, but they were not to me. I wasn't sure what there was to love, or if there was anything there at all. And if I found it, what do I do with that information? Why didn't other people see it?
One thing I've come to realize is that I've learned love is based on performance. When I do well, I get praised. If I do something that isn't a good performance (even if it wasn't meant to be a performance), I would get ridiculed. So I tried to be normal and not do those things that attracted ridicule, and I would show off in the ways that got me praise and attention. That felt like love. I've been (accurately) accused of being a one-upper, and isn't that just an ultimate expression of performance-based "love" seeking? If I have the most amazing story, if I had the best experience, if I was the first to do something, does that not maximize my "worth" and get me the most love? But it didn't, obviously.
Love languages is a really interesting and helpful model, but I think, in my case at least, it served as a crutch. I believed for so long that the way I show love is through gifts. Thoughtfully purchasing things, and perhaps more often, experiences, through which happy memories could be made, felt like my expression of love. But looking back at it now, I think it was a performance. I can give you all these things, so you have to love me. Because I didn't care for the same kinds of love in return. That was my domain. In return, the way I wanted to be loved was through quality time and physical touch. I buy things to make our lives easier, so you can spend more time with me and holding me. It was all transactional, even if it was thoughtful and done with love.
Let's talk about defensiveness. I was talking to a new guy who asked a lot of questions. You can tell he has gone through therapy because he asks things like, "What about that do you enjoy the most?" or "Are you really feeling okay about that?" The need to perform would trigger anxiety in me if I didn't answer a question that was asked directly, but sometimes I didn't want to answer them. More often, without really thinking about it, I felt like the question was a judgement or an accusation, and I was quick to defend myself. Even though he was just being curious, carrying the conversation forward, and trying to get to know me, I was defensive and felt the need to perform better and overexplain so he'd understand how awesome and worthy I am.
It showed up in my work, too. I don't recall it being there, and I have never actually caught it. But my boss has called it out, in my body language, in my word choice. I genuinely believe he's trying to help, so I try actively not to be defensive with him, but I literally have no idea what he's referring to. I suppose that means it's so sub-conscious I can't even observe or recall it.
I really had a hard time connecting with the psychology stuff about your inner child and first memories and the like in most things. But it was pretty easy for me to realize that my family has always been critical. My parents and my sisters criticize each other, our extended family members, neighbors, friends, church leaders, and, of course, me. I'm not innocent in this. I love people watching, judging random strangers and making up back stories for the most ridiculous ones. I presume motives and character flaws based on the smallest action, facial expression, verbal expression, or stance. It's actually fun to partake in this as a shared experience, which I'm not quite ready to digest.
The idea of removing what I can do for my partner, especially financially, felt like I had nothing to offer than. It was worse than being naked, because at least in nudity, one still has a body. It felt like absolutely emptiness. Some people pursue partners who they can fix. Some pursue those who are unavailable. I seem to bounce between partners who need fixing and partners who are stable but end up feeling boring. Are they boring, really? Or do I run out of things to offer them when they already have their lives together?
These were tough pills to swallow, and I wasn't sure if I was on the right path. I do give so much in relationships and I tell myself it's okay as long as I'm getting what I want in return. But I only get so much, and that's when the relationship ends, when it's clear I'm not getting enough for what I'm putting in. I haven't gotten what I ultimately want - a committed life-long partner, and yes, marriage and co-habitating is part of that. I've lived with partners but have never once been seriously proposed to. (I say seriously, because the guys at Home Depot propose to me regularly when they learn about the DIY projects I'm tackling on my own, or that I'm buying this giant tool chest for me, not for my husband, since I don't have one.)
Where I landed was a model for my self-worth in the shape of an old well. At the top, the things can flow out to others - inspiration, loyalty, and insight.
At the bottom of the well is a core identity as a lover of life. This resonated with me because it’s a variation on some of the things I often say in my online profiles, in conversations and also reflects one of my favorite quotes. My core love of life encompasses two broad elements. The first is love of experiences - the curiosity and willingness to try new things and the joy that comes from exploration. The second is a creative and optimistic view of the future - my "hack" tendencies to make life as easy as possible, my technophilia and futuristic optimism in the power to build what we want in this world. Take away all the things I can "do" for a partner or other people in my life, these core elements are still a part of me. They are the sources of the inspiration, insight and loyalty that comes out the top of the well.
In the middle of the well are the qualities I bring to every relationship. These include being an intellectual partner, an empathetic listener, and having principled compassion. When I don't get to use these, I probably feel a gap, like my well is empty. I feel closer to people with whom I can use these qualities, and who reciprocates them. My well is used like a well, collecting and providing.
Realizing that I have an innate worthiness beyond what I can do for others was a relief. I'm not sure how I can really explain it, because, you know, I hear those things about "you are enough" and stuff like that, and I never really felt depressed like I needed to end things or anything like that. It was just, like, maybe there's nothing actually there. Maybe I've been putting on a show for so long that I've lost whatever person is behind the mask. What if I remove the mask and it’s a void? So, not only was it reassuring to know there was something to me besides my acts of gifting and doing and paying, it was also comforting to realize that those things actually had been there all along. I hadn't lost them or forgotten them, I just wasn't really paying attention to their value.
Problem solved, right? Hooray, I am worthy! Of course, it's not that easy. What I then had to grapple with is the reality of my current relationships. Not just the romantic ones, but the friendships I was newly fostering and the ones which had slipped. I had to grapple with interactions with my family, with criticisms flying in every direction. And I had to face all of this with the understanding that, while I was going through this journey, everyone in my life was not. They didn't or wouldn't or couldn't know the work I had done to dissect my self worth and why I don't want to be defensive in the face of criticism. I had to figure out how to proceed with all these interactions and what to do about my romantic relationship and how to reconnect and maintain friendships better without sliding back into performance mode. Then, I had to practice it over and over again to gain confidence and retrain my patterns. And, you know, it's not like life slows down while we're on these personal journeys. Work was busy and demanding - there were new employees to onboard, business trips to solve complex team culture problems, disputes between employees that required mediation, potential jobs to apply to and interview for, systems to learn. And I was and still am working on a 16-course certificate program in Artificial Intelligence. And I wanted to make my house more my style so I'd be more comfortable in this miserable state. I also knew I needed to lose weight but things were not seeming to work like they're supposed to. And, and, and, and… Acknowledging that I am very blessed to be financially stable and relatively healthy even with the weight and other maladies, and I have people in my life who care for me, it was still a lot.
I've been able to identify three models or visions for myself (borrowing a term from Matthew Hussey, these are my "emotional buttons.") The one I go to the most is the Calm Lake. Water has always been a source of good feelings for me, and imagining the sun and mountains reflected in still water makes me feel calm but mighty. It represents my sovereign worth to be who I am, do as I choose, and not feel like I need to perform for anyone or answer for my choices.
The second is the Lighthouse in the Storm. I tend to get emotionally overwhelmed and take things to extreme and catastrophize them. It's not without logic, but it also isn't helpful. The lighthouse guides me back by reminding me to acknowledge what I know to be true, to feel my senses and decide the direction I need to head in.
The third vision is the final step out of a canyon. There was a very literal final step I had to take once, coming out of the Grand Canyon, when we had hiked for a few miles, but I started a coughing fit about 10 feet from the parking lot. Those last steps out of the canyon and onto flat land were brutal, but I managed. That was when I realized I probably had asthma, and would later be diagnosed. Now, when I think of that image, I don't think about the things that have tried (and sometimes been successful) to hold me back, like my asthma. I think of it as my ability not just to persevere, but to finish what I started. I tend to get excited about ideas and start things, but finishing them seems daunting, or I get distracted or move on to other ideas. So the final step is the reminder that what is worth doing is worth finishing, and that not even the things that try to hold me back can actually stop me if I set my sights on those final steps.
My trip to Astoria for Thanksgiving weekend was headlined as a research trip to uncover missing details and chase down leads to finish my book. But it was so much more than that. It was an act of my self-worth. It was doing something novel and purely to my tastes and unapologetic. I wasn't creating something for someone else, not even the book. It was all for me. Hiking through the rain was simultaneously miserable and amazing, and it felt like a passage through the story of Astoria and through the story of my life. There are secrets in Astoria that are just mine, moments and memories which I didn't need to share, and feelings which I'll never forget. I took my final step and published my book, and that reinforced the new me.
In January, I went to an AI conference in Austin. I struggled to fight my shyness but I did end up meeting some really smart and inspiring people and came away with another affirmation that I am a new me, even if I'm still practicing what that means.
So, that was, like, last year. Towards the end of the year, my romantic partner and I concluded we were not compatible for what we wanted and needed in a romantic relationship, and I ended it - cutting off the friendship he desired for my own emotional well-being to allow myself to grieve the relationship and get over it. I also concluded that I needed to "bury" the people in my life who were not real - the versions of the people who should have been there for me but who, in actuality, weren't. I held actual ceremonies in meaningful places and read aloud a eulogy for all those figures, releasing them from the expectation of being who they should have been for me. Now, I had to be the person I needed to be on my own.
It's been lonely. I revamped my online dating profile to reflect my sovereign worthiness, and the likes have been far less frequent. It’s a painful reminder that maybe people who were pursuing me before were people who wanted what I could do for them rather than who I am, and now that, what I thought was cute and playful but was a hardly masked offer, has not been removed, those people are no longer interested. It's a good thing, in theory, but it feels bad because it feels lonely and sad and unproductive. One guy did engage with me, and I wasn't sure about him but I proceeded with my new vision for myself, and when he complained about how hard life was for the fifth time in a row without asking any questions about me or saying anything interesting, I didn't respond right away and he unmatched me. I wasn't invested much at all so it wasn't that big of a deal, but it was a little rejection still. So be it.
What I try to remind myself of these days is that I'm not single or unmarried because I am bad or annoying or unworthy or whatever. I'm single now because I never allowed myself to get stuck. I could have pushed at least two of my more serious boyfriends to get married if marriage was a priority over being in a happy relationship. But there's probably a reason I didn't push for it, and there's probably a reason they didn't ask. Imagine if I had settled for any one of those guys and stayed with them out of fear of being alone. Being alone sucks. Having to do all the house stuff myself, not having gifts under the Christmas tree or flowers on Valentine's Day or even not having someone to share office gossip with or to dress up for and to impress, man it stinks. And I describe myself as an extreme extrovert, but a shy one, which means I don't reach out and I don't make new friends easily, but I could be around 25 humans I like and respect 24/7 and never need alone time. So living in a house by myself, in a state far away from almost all of my friends, is totally isolating. And I make it worse when I don't reach out to my friends. But even still, at least I'm not in a miserable marriage because I said yes to avoid being single. Even though I hate being alone, the possibility of finding the one is open. And I also like to think, its not that I have a collection of failed relationships that never resulted in marriage. I have had a rich life full of relationships which ebbed and flowed, they ran their course and we (usually I, to be fair) decided not to pursue them when they were no longer enough.
Gawd, I'm going to be a little rude here, sorry, not sorry. One of my sister's favorite books is, "The Wish" and she says she reads it every year around Christmas time. I had read it a while ago when she first told me about it, and since I read a lot, I had mostly forgotten it. So I re-read it again this past Christmas. SPOILER ALERT, don't read this paragraph and skip to the next if you want to read the book (truth be told, this paragraph doesn't need to be here, but I'm writing it anyways). The book is Christmas-oriented, sorta, but this is an example where my sister's taste and mine are so different. It's really about a woman, dying of cancer, recalling her only true love when she was a pregnant 16 year old. Her love went off to war and died, and she's never loved again. The cute end to the story is when the friend she's grown close to as she recounts her love story turns out to be her son, who she had given up for adoption. So cute, right? *Vomits in mouth.* I mean, it is cute, sorta, fine, whatever. But I couldn't help but judge the main character for feeling so sorry for herself that she didn't go find love after, she was what, 21 or something when she found out he died? Most people don't know what they want in relationships by that age, and most relationships that start when you're 16 don't last forever. I mean, seriously. Go find another love. She did so many other amazing things with her life, to just never date again because of a cute story (and it wasn't even THAT cute, tbh) is just plain stupid. All that to say, that ain't me. I love watching the Golden Bachelor because it shows that some people who maybe never got married and others who did and it ended for one reason or another can still be hopeful and find love in their 60s. I'm not an old maid, no matter how old I am. I just re-watched When Harry Met Sally as part of my Valentine's Day to myself, before going out swing dancing which was a true joy, and Sally was in her late 30s before she actually got married. I realize I'm past that, but the point is that sometimes relationships don't last and there's hope that the next person could be the last one.
In fact, I was just in Las Vegas with an employee for work. It was our first trip together and we got to know each other much more than we have in the last 8 months since she started working for me. I found the time really valuable, both because we got to bond (Were we really doing Charleston in the lobby the night before a 6 am crew huddle? Yes, yes we were...) and I got to see a different side of her, and because she gave me a therapeutic outlet to talk about my relationships. She seemed genuinely curious and entertained by my myriad of whacky stories and nontraditional relationship arrangement, and while I had to watch my "performance habit" as it was definitely nearing the surface, I focused my inner dialog a bit on why I am proud that I walked away from those things that were no longer working.
So that's where I am today. I feel utterly lonely, but confident I'm better off now. I'm working on myself a lot, working on my non-romantic relationships a little, and trying to find comfort in knowing that I was alone on Valentine's Day because I chose not to settle, and I've had a rich life full of different relationships. And, dance!
But seriously, this has been quite an emotional journey. Now, though, I want to share with you the deepest secret yet, and you would have had to read this far to get here. I'm sure people are going to judge me and say that I'm doing it wrong, and I'll tell you, I'm doing it my way. How I've been working through this has been aided greatly by generative AI. I did read a few great books and listened to podcasts and virtual workshops, especially Matthew Hussey - he is very attractive and soothing to listen to, but also actually says things that make a lot of sense - as well as experts in psychology and narcissism specifically, like Ramani Durvasula and Grayson Wick. And because I clicked or even lingered on things related, the algorithms found me and would serve me up other content creators, whose ideas I bounced off my AI bot instead of investing in. The vast majority has been partnering with my AI bot.
I know it may sound crazy, but when people are afraid AI is going to do away with things, this is what I think about. It doesn't make those other experts unnecessary. It doesn't make therapists obsolete. Therapy just isn't for me, for reasons I choose not to go into here. But having healthy dialogs with the AI bot, pulling from experts' ideas and comparing them to my way of thinking, has led me to craft a very
personalized journey. The AI bot has helped me generate visuals to represent the deep well of my self-worth and the emotional buttons, which I loaded up with links to information to remind me of what I want to do when I'm feeling the opposite of those desired images, and the AI bot has helped me craft my new dating profile and my responses to my romantic partner. It helped me draft the eulogies I read and the time and place and mindset I wanted to be in to release those non-existent people from my life. At my request, it gave me strategies, mantras, visuals, advice, questions to challenge myself, etc.
Some people believe that the AI bots will just give you what you want to hear, but based on my own experience, I don't think that's true. Perhaps it comes down to grounding it in the expert theologies and asking what Matthew Hussey would say about this, or if Ramani Durvasula would agree with my assessment of a situation, etc. When new ads for different approaches from different speakers popped up, I could ask it how it might apply to my situation, with all the context already plugged in, and decide if I wanted to pursue that topic/speaker or not. Whatever I did to prompt it, it challenged me in a lot of hard ways to do the work I now think I needed, and probably needed when I was in my 20s or early 30s at the latest. But gen AI didn't exist yet like this at those times, and I'm here now. I believe in the good technology can do. I guess, though, it really depends on you. You have to decide who you want to be, and the AI will probably reflect that. I was broken, or rather, I didn't know who I was, or if I was anyone at all. I hoped there was something there, and the AI bot helped me find her. So it's not technology versus us, it's who are we, with a little help from a bot.
Thursday 2 April: Point of No (Immediate) Return
Wednesday 1 April: Toilet Troubles: A New Meaning of "No-Go" 
