500 Days

I've always liked the movie “500 Days of Summer.” I'm a sucker for any good love story, but I especially appreciate when the love story doesn't follow the typical chick flick plot. I like “500 Days” because, rather than being a story about how 2 people fall in love with each other, it's a story about how 2 people learn and grow and ultimately get to a point where they're ready to fall in love—even though it's not with each other.

When I first watched this movie, I got that it was ultimately happy, that both characters would ultimately end up in a better place. But I admit that the movie mostly left me feeling sad. I felt that I, like Tom, had gotten my heart broken. I had been strung along and had spent too much time pining for something that never was to be. Even though the movie did end somewhat happily for Tom, as he pursues his dream job and takes another chance in love, I couldn't help but feel sad for all the time he lost and all the heartache he had suffered. Moreover, I'd wondered if he'd truly be able to give love a fair chance or if he would be forever tainted by his experience with Summer.

I hadn't seen that movie in a long time, but today I watched it for the first time with my husband. This time instead of feeling frustrated with Summer's character for leading Tom on, or feeling sad for Tom's heartache, I saw 2 people doing the best they could to find love. Summer claimed she didn't actually believe in love, but obviously she held out some sort of hope as she pursued things with Tom, however “casual” she wanted to take it. And Tom, for his part, probably pushed too hard for love, but he was only following his heart and doing what seemed right to him. Summer just wasn't the right one for him.

This time I felt happy that Summer, who had obviously been hurt by her parents' divorce and didn't believe in love, was able to find it so quickly and so unexpectedly. At the end of the movie she tells Tom about meeting her husband. She asks rhetorically, what if I hadn't been at the coffee shop that day, what if I'd gone to see a movie, or had come 10 minutes later. She then tells Tom that he had been right about love—it just wasn't between him and her.

And I felt happy that Tom used the experience to improve himself by seeking a career that truly fulfilled him. I felt happy that, even after getting his heart broken, even after spending 500 days of his life in love with Summer, he was able to move on and find hope for the future.

I loved that one of my husband's first comments to me after the movie ended was in regards to Summer's description of meeting her husband. He said to me: “It's like us. What if we hadn't been at the same restaurant that night? What if we both hadn't taken jobs in the same foreign country?”

It's kind of overwhelming to think of how many little things could have gone differently for us. A small step here or there in another direction and we'd never have met. But they didn't go differently. This is our reality. This is our luck.

I spent a lot of time on this blog trying to figure out why I was still single. I still don't really have an answer for myself or for anyone else. Maybe it was just as simple as meeting the right person at the right time for both of us. Simple and serendipitous at the same time.

Maybe there's just a lot of luck involved. So many factors are out of our control. But I think the idea is to keep yourself in the best place you possibly can—for yourself, most importantly. But also so that you will be in the right place when the right person shows up.

The End.

by SS

I've been meaning to end this blog for awhile now, but not only am I lazy, I haven't really had anything interesting to say about being single since...um...April at least. Judging by my blog.

I think I've gotten out my rants and expressed my main fears and concerns. That's it. Life goes on. Sometimes I wish I weren't single and other times I fully embrace it. In the end all I can do is work to change those things that are in my control. Like pursuing a career I really want or moving to a city or country where I really want to live. I can't make my dream guy appear and even if I could, I certainly couldn't make him fall in love with me, not already be taken, or cause the timing to be right.

I've learned that maintaining a positive attitude, keeping up your appearance, and developing your character can only take you so far. There's a lot of luck involved, too. For 2 people to come together that share similar values and interests, are physically attracted to each other, and are both ready and willing to enter into the same level of commitment is nothing short of a miracle. Especially as the pool of potentials seems to get smaller. Or does it?

The pool of potentials.

The only idea I have left to contribute to this blog before I close it down. Eh, who am I kidding? It's not even that original. I've already written about dating younger guys. My general take was that although I understand the appeal, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Well, a little bit younger, sure. But not 5 years or more.

I wrote that entry almost a year and a half ago. And after many months of reflection, I've realized that my hang up with younger guys actually had nothing to do with their age. It had to do with me not being okay with my own age. Intellectually, I'm fine with my age. I'm generally pretty happy with who I am and where I'm going in life. My mind tells me that age is just a number, especially as you get older, blah blah blah.

But emotionally it makes me insecure to see most people my age with their own families while I'm still running around as free as I was in college. I know it's not right, but I feel like I should be somewhere else in life. Even though my mind tells me I'm okay.

So if I'm not okay with my age, how can I expect someone else to be?

And then I met someone in August. We had that initial boom of chemistry and attraction that I hadn't experienced in many, many years. Indeed, I had long started to think that that sort of thing was an embellished memory of mine and/or something reserved only for movies. I figured right away that he was probably a little bit younger. He figured that I was a little bit older.

We found out a couple weeks into things that I've got 8.5 years on him.

I kinda freaked out. I started distancing myself little by little. I began the process of detaching myself emotionally so as to lessen the pain of the blow it would be to cut him out of my life. It was heartbreaking.

Then one day I found myself home alone in tears. Sometimes it takes that dramatically low point for me to wake up and realize I'm being ridiculous. In my depths of despair, I finally recognized my mistake. I was about to break up with an amazing guy for no good reason. He was okay with the age difference. Why couldn't I be okay with it?

It's hard to change mindsets you've held your whole life. Especially coming from a traditional Mormon background. My life is so different from my mother's, my aunts', my YW leaders'. Basically every female authority figure I ever had growing up in small towns. All of these women were married by age 21 at the absolute latest. Most of them were able to stay home with their children. The most they ever worked was maybe part time at a store while the kids were in school.

Why didn't it turn out that way for me? I can honestly say that I've enjoyed living my life, but I think I've wondered for many years now why things didn't turn out for me like they did for the other women I knew my first 18 years of life. And even worse, I've assumed that my divergence from this path has been due to some sort of flaw within myself. Back home, it was a scandal to be 21 and single. To now be 30 and single?!? Surely something was wrong.

Of course my mindset has shifted significantly since leaving home at 18. I've now had 12+ years of getting degrees, pursuing a career, living and traveling overseas. I've met many wonderful women who are successfully pursuing their dreams without a life partner. This has certainly helped me come to terms with my reality. But I still maintain that it's hard to undo what was ingrained in you for the most formative 18 years of your existence. I thought that the older I got, the smaller my pool was, and the less likely I was to find someone.

But I think I'm finally really starting to embrace the idea that my pool is as big as it ever has been. And maybe even bigger. I can go younger or older. Without feeling a need to rush to find a provider to take care of me, I'm left to seek out the qualities I really want. It's okay for me to take my time to find that person I can really connect with, who makes me laugh, who loves me unconditionally, with whom I have off-the-charts physical chemistry.

I know better than to think “this is it” after just a couple of blissful months with my younger guy. I could see myself with him in the long term—he has all of the qualities I mentioned above and more. But I could also eventually end up with an older guy. Or someone in between.

The point is: my options have not become limited by my age. I may be taking much longer to find my husband than the women I knew growing up, but it's not because there's something wrong with me. Times have changed and it's exciting to be a part of it. I have the freedom to explore my interests and become okay with who I am independent of any other person. At the same time, I have fantastic options for who I ultimately want to spend the rest of my life with. These options are not always apparent, there's certainly a lot of luck involved, but there is no such thing as a deadline.

Let me just say a quick thanks to all of you for reading and sharing your comments and feedback. Thanks also to Shelby and A for all their insights. I haven't heard from either in awhile, but I hope they're both doing well. I'm sorry to take away their posting privileges, but it's time for this blog to end.

Best of luck to all of you. Couldn't we all use some? ;)

Hello again fellow bloggers, I figure Id post something that came from a Dallas SA rep on facebook. It sparked some interesting comments so I thought I share.

"Facebook ladys name" is disappointed. Ladies... please be kind when dating a GOOD man. Don't take them for granted & if u decide u need to move on, do it with much compassion. Think about how 2 say things, & be sensitive in ur dealings w/ mutual friends. SHAME ON YOU if u aren't compassionate when the only fault they have is 4 loving u when u don't love them back.


AGB aka Shelby

Moving on...and why

by SS

I wrote parts of this in my journal quite awhile back. Finally getting around to putting it on the blog. :)

Tonight I enjoyed a lovely farewell dinner with friends. For a few moments during our meal, I stepped outside of myself in nostalgia. It was as though the future me was looking back and remembering fondly this last night with dear friends before heading out for good. . . .That had been the end. So tangible. Beginnings and endings are rarely tangible. Something begins and you hardly notice it till you're in the midst of it. Something ends, but you don't notice until it's already gone. But in that very moment, I had felt the end as it was happening. I smiled at the memory before returning to the present.

My position overseas is not temporary nor would I ever intend or hope it to be. This is not my next "adventure." This is what I've wanted for almost as long as I can remember.

My parents moved us abroad when I was in my early teens. It was the most tragic thing that could ever happen to a teenager. What about my friends? They were my entire world. What about driving and dating and proms and graduation and all the other things that every American teenager is supposed to enjoy? Instead, my family was moving to some stupid country that I'd barely even heard of and whose language I did not speak. Not only that, but it was to a fairly small town with no American school. I was positively convinced that it was going to ruin my life. I had never cried as much as I did on that long series of flights to our new home.

And then we landed. I will never forget that feeling. That feeling of getting my young, immature, and overdramatic life rocked. I wanted to be so mad. Indeed, I did hold on to my anger for quite some time. Probably just to spite my parents like the angsty teenager I was. But honestly, it was love at first sight. And my life has never been the same since.

I realized I could I think more clearly in a foreign environment. I could feel more deeply.

My teenage emotions were all over the place, but I had never felt more alive in my entire life. I started to love the challenge of trying to insert myself into my new culture and language. As a silly young teenager, I daydreamed about falling in love with one of the locals and becoming that culture. I loved finding myself in a new language. I loved finding new words and phrases to express my emotions―new ways of feeling and thinking about things. I loved finding a new me. Well, maybe not entirely new. Just more aware. More alive.

I eventually moved back to the US for college, but tried to continue that life as much as I was able. I've now lived in multiple countries and am fairly comfortable in several languages. This is because when I go live or travel in a country for awhile, I don't just go to see the sights or “say I've been there.” I want to become the county and its people―or at least as much as is feasible given the amount of time I have there.

I am not one to view being "well-traveled" as a badge of honor. Bragging about stamps in my passport is not my style. I don't go out and try to rack up as many countries as I can. There are a few countries in particular that I find myself traveling to over and over again because I have, in a sense, become part of them. I don't care as much about jetting off to see someplace new. I care about jetting off to reconnect with a part of myself. And even when I do travel to a new country, I don't care about seeing all the main sites and getting my picture taken in front of them so I can bring back evidence. I would be content to spend days on end sitting in cafes, chatting it up with locals (however broken my version of their language may be), and people watching. Soaking in all the different ways there are to think, to feel, to live.

After all, what better way to really know what's inside yourself but to strip away all the externals that you're used to? Take away all your familiar surroundings, people, language, food, behaviors and what is left? Just you. How will you connect with another human being when words are difficult if not impossible to find? How will you live your day to day life when even the simplest tasks of procuring food or traveling from point A to point B become significantly more complicated?

Up till now this is a life I've only been able to embrace on somewhat temporary occasions―a mission, study abroads, vacations. Now it will be mine to live out forever. I know it won't be perfect. I know it will be very hard at times. I often think that by following this path I have traded in any chance I may have had of ever getting married. I guess we have more control over some dreams than others.

I don't know if I've made the right choice yet. I only know that I feel more alive.

Irritation you have all been there

by AGB


Well fellow bloggers, I hit some snags in my wonderful new way of life. It cant all be rainbows and fuzzy animals can it? I figured since I was up and not doing anything I would share with you my frustrations at the dating life.

Recently I got the Activity card played on me. Not just once but a couple of times. You know your a great guy but your not active enough for me card. I have severe asthma, I don't do a lot of strenuous activities like bike rides and running. I really dont want to fall over dead from an asthma attack, I take care of my self to insure I don't. Ive been in ICU more times than I like to count though out my life, and am alive today because of prayer and fasting. With that said it hits a little hard to be told, I dont like you because you dont jog/bike ride/boat. I wouldn't feel insulted if these girls were full bore athletes. I have several friends that run in marathons, triathlons, you name it. Those women I would never be compatible with because honestly we are too far different, I couldn't keep up. What frustrate me the most is that they really are not all that active themselves. Its like I am in high school again and all the ladies are after the jocks. FRUSTRATING

Tonight I just got called by one of my brothers. He had seen I had commented on a picture of an old time friend. He wanted to know what was the scoop with her. This wouldnt be bad except he never calls me to see how I am doing. In fact its been months since I had last heard from him yet my dating life is his primary concern. Any single person can tell you there are a few questions of death some one can ask. The ones where you want to just chew through metal because it hits a huge sore spot yet you know they are just being concerned. I never know how to properly respond to these questions. Tonight I just told my brother the truth, she just a friend will never be anything more. Not because of me but because she just not interested. Awkward silence ensued and in 3 minutes I was off the phone. Thanks bro I needed a reminder I am still single.


as a side note there is something positive. A good friend of mine introduced me to a really nice single mother. We are in the talking stage right now. I have high hopes on this one. I am trying not to get to excited because we haven't gone on a date. Its all still in the beginning. Will she throw me into the dating pool or the never escaping friend zone? I dont know I can only keep trying and being happy.

AGB - Its beautiful day

By AGB aka Shelby

Hello again fellow bloggers. I asked SS to allow me to write my exploits on my continued quest to find that perfect lady. I have to say I have made a break through. No I’m not married nor am I in a relationship. I have arrived at some simple truths. These may be clichéd but they work.

First let me tell you about the negative so you understand the positive. I am one of those people that have put my self-esteem on being able to be married. At 34 that looks pretty grim. Ive felt horrible, looked horrible. Mr Unhappy man was my middle name! Depression was second only to loneliness in my world. Boy did it show. I was wrought with worry and hoping beyond hoping that Id meet that special someone. It was on my every thought. It was in my every deed. It was carried over to everything. In fact it has kept me from blogging here because I was soooo negative. I was desperate.

But a few months ago I remembered a scripture I learned in seminary. “Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” (proverbs 3:5) I decided to apply that scripture and put it on the lord to find someone and lean not to my own understanding. This has made me free to not hurt so bad and let happen what will happen. When I talk to a lady now, I’m more relaxed. I’m not stressing over does she like me? Is she into me?

Happiness begins where one ends. I have taken a new outlook. I am gonna be happy no matter what. This fellow bloggers is hard, really hard to do. “Think bad thoughts is really the easiest thing in the world. If you leave your mind to itself it will spiral down into ever increasing unhappiness. To think good thoughts, however, requires effort. This is one of the things that discipline - training - is about. (James Clavell, in his novel "Shogun") This is a key piece to the puzzle. When you are happy then it shows. Bloggers make this a commitment.

Now my success, I have had more dates this past month than I have in the last 4 years. Honestly they have been bad dates (im out of practice!). I do know though that it doesn’t matter because 1 the lord knows my heart and 2 no matter what I am happy. I hope everyone can do these few things!

Dreams

by SS

Yeah, it's been awhile. A lot has been going in my life—some good, some not so good. Lately I've made some rather unpleasant realizations about myself. I think I've avoided blogging so I can pretend they're not true. Writing stuff down makes it more real. It makes you responsible for it. And I'm not sure if I'm ready for that yet. But here goes. In part at least.

Awhile back I railed on girls who resist pursuing their dreams because they're waiting on a man.

But I've recently realized that I am one of those girls.

Yes, I'm a hypocrite. I've been so busy accusing others of something that I couldn't see that I was doing it myself.

See, my family moved overseas when I was young. Ever since that time I had imagined a certain life for myself. I dreamt that someday I would live overseas with my own family. We'd move from country to country every few years. We'd pick up languages, friends, and experiences along the way.

As I got a little older, however, I realized that finding a guy who wanted this same life path significantly narrowed my choices. Certainly it was never impossible. I've met a number of married couples over the years who are living out this dream together. But it did sort of put a damper on things when I'd be out with a guy and discover that he had no intention of ever living outside the United States. Or even worse—he wanted to settle down and live out the rest of his life in the same town or city.

But I tried not to let it get to me too much. I told myself this didn't have to be a dealbreaker. With the right man, I could be happy living here for the rest of my life.

While I mostly still believe this to be true, at what point do you realize—really realize—that it just may not happen? At what point do you discover that you can't wait around any longer? When do you accept that you are the only one responsible for making your dreams happen? Most of all, when do you realize that you have put your dreams on hold for a man? A man that does not yet exist.

It was probably so easy for me to spot other girls doing this because somewhere deep down, I knew I was doing it myself. I tricked myself into believing that I wasn't one of those girls—I have a good career, I do lots of fun stuff, I'm not bitter and depressed, blah blah blah.

Whatever. With a bit more clarity now I look back and realize that I was waiting. I was holding out. While I have no qualms about traveling overseas by myself, moving overseas seemed to be a whole different ball game. I didn't think I could pursue my dream alone. In fact, I was terrified of going it alone.

I hadn't realized any of this a few months ago when I finally buckled down and applied for my dream overseas job. Mostly I was just having a bad day and did it on a whim. It wasn't until I was offered and accepted the job that I realized all this. Only then did I feel this happiness, fulfillment, and exhilaration that I hadn't felt in a very long time.

It's ridiculous. It's embarrassing. It's taken me 6 YEARS of being an adult member of the workforce to get myself on the career path which I now realize is the only one I've ever truly wanted. I was content with my previous job. But it was not my dream. It was not what I ultimately imagined for myself. It did not make me tingle with excitement. And it's stunning to look back and realize that the main thing holding me back all this time has been fear of doing it alone.

But now I'm doing it. I'm leaving in less than a month. Yes, I'm a little fearful of the unknown. But mostly I feel incredibly lucky.

Would I rather not do this alone? Of course. But I am finally going to live my longest-held dream. No more “good enough.” No more complacency. No more waiting.

My dream is happening. And I am thrilled!

Spam Collecting

by SS

That's pretty much all my blog does these days. A few times a week I get a notification about a new anonymous comment providing a link to something I'm afraid to click for fear it will destroy my computer.

I think it's funny when bloggers spend half a post apologizing for slacking off on their blog. Really, it's okay. We don't wake up every morning hoping to find a new post from you. Okay, maybe sometimes. . . :)

The truth is, I haven't had much fodder which fits into the context of this blog. It makes me sad because I really enjoy blogging. Unfortunately, however, I find myself confined to a topic that isn't always the most interesting. I mean, really, how much can one say about being single? Funny dates, religious peculiarities, societal norms, personality quirks, blah blah blah. Yeah, me and every other single person.

Sometimes I think I should start a real blog with my real name about real stuff that I really care about. But I think I like anonymity too much. Also, I'm lazy.

I miss the dialogue here and am genuinely hoping that I'll feel inspired to write again soon. But, as I've said before in connection with dating—if I'm not feeling it, I'm not feeling it. And I don't want to force anything.

I guess that's it. I miss you. I'll be back when I have something I really feel like I writing.


PS As for A, I'm not sure what happened to him. Maybe he got bored, too. A, you know that you can share stories and stuff even if I don't, right? ;)

Little Girl Poetry, part 2

by SS

So, as you might have surmised from my last post, I was not the prettiest little girl on the block. I was wretchedly skinny. As in, not the skinny where people are jealous of you, but the skinny where people are genuinely grossed out by you. And furthermore, they are not afraid to tell you so to your face. Not only that, but I grew up surrounded by a culture where having “meat on your bones” was the beauty standard—not the anorexic look.

Excuse me while I launch into a mini-rant. We all know that a lot of kids are mean. They tend to make fun of those look different, talk different, act different, etc. As the kids get older, however, provided they don't have any major behavioral or emotional issues, they typically will at least stop making fun of other kids to their faces. What they do behind other kids' backs and/or to their perceived enemies is of course a different story. But you won't typically see a normal, well-adjusted older kid go up to some random kid and insult them for no apparent reason.

As I approached my teen years, I started thinking, if I had to choose, I'd rather be too fat than too skinny. Because, at least at my school, the fat kids were typically only teased behind their backs. (A few random bullies being the exception to this.) I, on the other hand, had no shortage of people telling me to my face, “Ugh, you're so skinny.” I don't know if they just didn't realize this was insulting or what. But every time someone said that to me, all I heard was, “Ugh, you're so ugly.” And I believed it. I was already shy and insecure. Over time it only got worse.

Basically, when everyone else is obsessed with your appearance, it's kinda hard not to become obsessed yourself.

If you read my little 13-year-old girl poem, you can sense how much I longed to be appreciated for what I was on the inside. You can sense that I felt I had something to offer, but didn't know how to convey it unless I was beautiful. You can sense my frustration, beginning with fairy tales (curse Disney!) but later carrying on into other forms of media and indeed often in real life, with guys falling in love with girls simply because they were beautiful.

This is why I shared my little poem even though it was embarrassing. I've matured quite a bit since then, but it's still frustrating to me that so many men seem to be able to completely fall in love with a woman because she's beautiful. I know there are men reading this blog who will prove me wrong. But still, can any of us deny how widespread this phenomenon is?

Little Girl Poetry

by SS

For over a month I've been debating whether or not to share this. It's insanely embarrassing. But ultimately I decided that if I can't bring upon myself massive humiliation on an anonymous blog, where can I do it? Plus, I suppose it does sort of tie into my last post about being noticed by the opposite sex.

When I was little, one of my greatest dreams was to become a writer. I have long since abandoned that dream for reasons that, if not already apparent, will certainly become clear after I share my little girl poem that I'm about to share.

Background

I think it's fascinating that US society (as well as a lot of other societies for that matter) is so obsessed with appearances. Placing people on a Scale of Attractiveness—of which I am guilty!—is just one of many, many examples.

I've often openly discussed with others my thoughts on attraction and the relevance of beauty in society in general and relationships in particular. But being able to share how these issues affect me specifically is pretty personal.

The following is something I wrote at age 13. I dug it out of an old spiral journal I uncovered last time I was home. I got a good chuckle out of it and hopefully you will, too.

So why am I sharing it? Despite its silly content and ridiculous execution (which I hope will make you smile), it does, nevertheless, give a sense of where I'm coming from. If you choose not to read it, I won't be offended. Promise.


Fairy Tales

As a little girl I heard them all
“Once upon a time,” they always began
“There was a beautiful fairy tale princess,
Who was the fairest in the land.”

She may not have been very talented
She may not have been very bright
But she truly was very beautiful
And that made everything alright.

She dreamed of the day her prince charming
Would ride in from a faraway land
He would discover her alone in her castle
They’d fall in love and he’d ask for her hand.

It was love at first sight—it truly exists!
Within moments they’d pledge themselves true.
They’d ride off in the sunset, live happily ever after,
They didn’t need time to think things through.

These stories were a mystery to me
I wondered where on earth they went.
I sensed that they were “superficial”
Before I even knew what the word meant.

Before I even knew what a “relationship” was,
I knew not what theirs was based upon.
Could that have possibly been love?
It only made me want to yawn!!

Like you could just throw love around
It blew all over like a leaf in the breeze
With just a bit of luck it might land in your lap
It was so simple, nothing but ease.

It was like a beautiful butterfly
Gliding from flower to flower
Someday it might light upon you
But it really wasn’t within your power.

This was the concept of love they taught
But wasn’t it something more profound?
I felt it had to be something greater
More like a seed planted deep in the ground.

You had to nourish it daily—
It needed good soil, some rain, and sunlight
Surely it took some effort, didn’t it?
Anything less wouldn’t make it grow right.

Oh, but I’m still a romantic.
I wanted a fairy tale, too.
I wanted to fall deeply in love.
So what in the world could I do?

In my fairy tales I, too, was princess
Deep within my castle locked
I wasn’t the fairest in the land
I wasn’t where all the princes flocked

I wasn’t the most charming or most graceful
But I was myself—something the others were not.
I had my own beauty, intelligence, and passion
I only needed to be sought.

I was like a mystery to be uncovered
I dreamt of the day my prince would find me
He’d rescue me from the chambers of myself
For to my castle only he had the key.

He wouldn’t fall in love at first sight
He wouldn’t instantly pledge himself true
He definitely wouldn’t run away, though
He would wait to see me through.

He’d find all the pieces of my puzzle
One by one he’d put them together
When finished it lay before him
He thought he’d never seen anything greater.

And yet still I was not the most beautiful
I was the same girl I’d been all my life
But this didn’t matter at all to him
He still wanted me to be his wife.

Then he’d take me to that faraway land
Where I’d be free to live without fear
He’d make me his promises, pledge himself true
He would forever hold me near.