Archive for Love & Romance & All That
OTT: Kitchen Upgrades and Acts of Love
Posted by: | CommentsAs most of you know by now, Husband and I are on a quest to make our townhouse – once considered our “temporary abode” but which has evolved into just our “long-time abode” thanks to Wall Street’s recent shenanigans– liveable. Well, the saga continues.
We’ve installed a new patio with new outdoor furniture, completed major reorganization of our garage, repainted just about everything, and invested in our own professional carpet steam cleaner. But, this summer? Well, we’ve embarked on a kitchen renovation.
The experts say that three things test a marriage the most – finances, sex and home renovation.
They were right.
But, it was worth it.
We went from this:
To this:
In just under two weeks. And, this is because Husband loves me more than he hates home renovation.
I am a huge proponent of the theories espoused by the book, The Five Languages of Love by Gary Chapman. In this book, you will discover your “love language” – those things your partner does that you make you feel loved. You also will be given insight into your partner’s love language (if you are reading it right). As the author points out, frequently, your love language and your spouse’s are often very different. And, this is where the trouble begins. But, if you know what your partner’s love language is, all can be better.
Thanks to this book, I now know that when I go flying with Husband in his tuna fish can Cessna 152 it speaks love to him. In fact, it is equal to him giving me diamonds. And, he now knows that if he would only whisper sweet nothings in my ear while kissing my neck, he basically could own me (or, for that matter, anyone else who does could, too). Simply put, our love languages are dead opposite. But, other than wishing he (or I) would express themselves differently, just knowing the other person’s love language can be helpful, too.
So, note to all singles everywhere: “buyer beware” when ordering a spouse. Make sure they understand your love language, and understand it early. Then, you can do what I did. For three days. Standing in the middle of a completely torn apart kitchen with no water. You get to see this is how Husband says “I love you.”
Husband should have been packing for a 10 day camping trip to Wisconsin to go to one of his favorite places in the world – the EAA’s Air Venture show (10,000 airplanes, more than 500,000 aviation enthusiasts). Rather, he spent two weeks – literally up to the day he left – making sure I had this:
Instead of this:
Whoever inherits this townhouse will not only get a castle, but maybe, just maybe, they will see the acts of love behind the granite.
Optimistic or Unrealistic?
Posted by: | CommentsThe Luvem or Leavem site published a terrific blog post recently on the fine line between the optimism love brings and having an unrealistic perspective. I believe we LBBs struggle with this one from time to time. I know I do. In fact, I’m going through something like this right now, which will require a whole other blog post another time. In the meantime, check out this post: Are You Optimistic or Unrealistic About Love?
Where are you in this debate?
Romance and the Movies. Not Such a Good Deal?
Posted by: | CommentsRepeat after me: The movies are a terrible place to gain insight around relationships.
Over the weekend, Husband and I saw the movie, Sex and the City 2 (SaTC). I wanted to see it mainly for the fashion and a dose of glamour. Husband went because I wanted to go. Neither of us were quite expecting what we got.
I tried hard to love this movie, because I loved the last SaTC movie and the previous TV show. But, this one? Well. Can you spell f-a-n-t-a-s-y? It was a bit over the top even for me. And, that’s sayin’ something.
The main character, Carrie Bradshaw, was finally settled into married life with her infamous Mr. Big (John Preston). And, she was an LBB (having married for the first time over age 40).
*** Spoiler alerts ***
The movie picks up two years into their marriage, over which time she wrote a book about being married called “I Do. I Do?” Cute title. I got it immediately.
Throughout the movie, the four main characters – Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda –go through the usual angst of “what does it all mean?” and “how do we keep the twinkle in our lives?” and “how do I balance my relationship with my savvy, wonderful self-ness?” You know. All the usual LBB fodder.
Then, it struck me about half way through this movie.
- LBBs, the world over, are the same.
- LBBs don’t like to “settle.”
- LBBs kinda want it all.
But, in truth, it’s hard to feel sorry for the SaTC women.
In Sex and the City land, the characters all got what they wanted. They have men adoring them (and I mean over. the. top. adoration), have a wardrobe and shoe collection that rivals a sheik’s wife, robust careers of their choice, and live in very large, gorgeous NYC apartments (really stretching the truth there). Yet they still aren’t completely satisfied and happy.
Carrie’s angst in this particular movie is around how to keep the “sparkle” alive after marriage. Early in the movie she complains of takeout food and Husband sitting on their to-die-for couch with the TV on, and instead pining for invitations to movie premieres and a different restaurant every night.
(This made Husband and I laugh because we have regular arguing rounds over 1) our TV being on too much, and 2) not having a comfortable couch. At least Carrie and Big had one out of two.)
So, what do the SaTC ladies do? Why, go for an all-expense PR trip to Abu Dhabi because PR diva Samantha met some rich Arabian hotelier in a bar during which he suddenly had to have her – working for him, that is.
(They nearly lost me at this point in the movie. I am a public relations consultant myself and have never been flown via first class to the jewel of the Middle East to stay in a $22,000 night suite to have one meeting to see if I could work some PR magic for their hotel.)
But, I did empathize with the overall “internal questioning” these women were going through. I just do it in the hellish townhouse comfort of my own home in sweatpants versus their Middle Eastern backdrop of a billowing tent overlooking a six acre pool with a cosmo in one hand.
The big question seemed to be – is this it? How do we have a satisfying home life AND not give up the things we love? Like getting together with girlfriends. Having a major shoe collection. Having a career that gives us purpose. How do we keep the love alive between spouses (and children)? Am I losing myself? Really, is this it?
All of my married friends keep telling me, well, yes, it is. And, you don’t get to do it all.
And, this is where the LBB’s brain starts to combust. Really? We can’t have it all?
Of course, in the end of the SaTC movie, Carrie – the most angst-ridden of them all — “sees the light.” It helped that, when she returned home from her tripping through the Middle East, that her Husband said all the perfect things and gave her the perfect (3 carat) black diamond to seal the deal. Just because she’s special.
I would have settled for their comfortable couch.
What is Love? Does an FAA Maintenance Regulation Seminar Count?
Posted by: | CommentsI apologize that you haven’t heard from me in a while. Last week was one of the busiest work weeks I’ve had in a while. (That is saying a lot.) And, what better way to celebrate an exhausting, stressful work week? Why, listening to an FAA regulation manager discuss maintenance record keeping!
Let me explain.
It is no secret that Husband’s first love is flying an airplane (in his case, a little single engine Cessna). For the last few years Husband has been trying to fly more. So he has been making his way through the Virginia Aviation Ambassadors Program by the Virginia Department of Aviation.
The VA Ambassadors Program is designed to encourage pilots to fly to every single airport in the Commonwealth. (Virginia isn’t a state. Technically it’s a commonwealth. But, I digress.). You also have to visit the aviation and transportation museums, too. At each airport and museum, you get your little book – called a passport (cute) – stamped with a special Ambassadors seal. There are more than 60 airports alone to visit, including Dulles International and Reagan National airports.
It’s a brilliant program, actually. It’s a game to incent economic activity, locally. Once completed, you get prizes. The top prize is a leather bomber jacket with your name embroidered on it. Not too shabby. (Husband calls it the world most expensive leather jacket given how much aviation fuel is expended to obtain it. But, hey, look at my shoe collection…)
I hear some people make it a real game and try to visit every airport and museum all in one day, starting at daybreak and ending as soon as it grows too illegal to keep flying. We Husband took a few years. He wanted me to be part of his game, which meant this LBB was going to have to do this in stages. (I’m not crazy.)
Husband completed his passport stamp-collecting last week, making our local airport the last stamp to obtain for symbolic reasons. My stamp-collecting is a tad behind, as we didn’t think about having me do this until about 6 months in. So, I have about six more airports to visit. And, as of Saturday, I had yet to attend the safety seminar.
And, this is where I’d like to now make the giant leap into what this has to do with being a Late Bloomer Bride.
First, I suspect LBBs get, earlier into the marital union, that showing love means expressing it the way the person wants to receive it.
(If you read Gary Chapman’s book, The Five Love Languages, you’ll see there are different ways to show you love someone. It is wise to know what your partner’s version is, so you aren’t just expressing your love the way you want it to be expressed. But, rather how he or she can feel it.)
While I like all kinds of sweet nothings whispered in my ear along with a really great massage, Husband just wants me sitting in the right seat of an airplane. If I was a 25 year old bride I’m not sure I would have abided by this. But, an over 40 bride? Well, let’s just say “I know what I don’t know,” faster.
So, this is how I ended up this weekend at the Virginia Festival of Flight in Suffolk, Virginia, where they have the once-a-year Big Ceremony to congratulate all who have completed the Ambassadors game of stamp-collecting. I did this instead of sleeping in and watching a Supernatural marathon. Rather, since a leather jacket was waiting, and it was the one place where I could attend the safety seminar to earn that one herewith-elusive stamp, off we went.
What is true LBB love? Let me count the ways. True love is:
- Ignoring the sleep deprivation of the week previously and getting up early on a Saturday morning to drive 2.8 hours through dismal trailer park neighborhoods surrounding Suffolk to get to said festival. (We couldn’t fly due to thunderstorms between Here and There.)
- Sitting in a steamy, 90 degree hothouse tent to listen to an FAA official discuss aircraft owner/operator responsibilities for maintenance regulations, including references to government regulation bulletin numbers, for – wait for it – 2.3 hours. (Yes, the “point three” counts). Even Husband said, afterward, you really earned that stamp.
- Eating food from a trailer (affectionately known as “festival food”), but choosing the Greek veggie platter hoping it had less calories than anything else offered only to have immediate buyer’s remorse upon seeing what was poured over everything and thinking, should I be eating sour cream sauce in 90 degree heat?
- Driving home through Suffolk’s ‘hood because the GPS told us to go that way, and Husband wouldn’t pull over (probably smart) to try to change it, but attempting to change it en route therefore weaving in and out of our lane.
- Getting home at 7 p.m. with just enough energy to go out to eat, only to remember it was UVA’s graduation weekend (read: anyplace that serves food, including the local 7-11, would be packed), but managed to squeeze into Sakura for beer and sushi.
- Falling into bed at 9:15 that night (on a Saturday!), falling asleep immediately, knowing we weren’t missing anything worth going out for anyway.
I am sure had I gotten married in my 20s none of this would have been in the cards. I guess we call this marital maturity. But, then again, maybe I’m crazy. I just hope Husband noticed.
The Celebrity Clause: Taking Applications for Who’s Next in Line
Posted by: | CommentsMuch fun has been made about marital “celebrity clauses.” In case you’ve been under a rock the last 20 years, a celebrity clause in the marriage contract means that if the celebrity you’ve been secretly fantasizing about all these years suddenly shows up at your doorstep and offers themselves, you are perfectly within your rights to do “whatever” with them. Of course, you’re only allowed one night under the contract. So, make it count.
As a woman who married for the first time after age 40, I had plenty of time to lust after Matthew, Brad, Hugh, Johnny, and Denzel. And, who knew? Someday I really could meet Antonio Banderas. I travelled. I was single. (I never said feasibility was necessary for my imagination to run wild.)
But, then I got married (past my Antonio prime years). I thought all crushing would disappear. Ha.
Ask anyone who has been married a long time and you will find that you still have those little urges toward the bold and the beautiful. You just now have two people in your imagination (not necessarily at once) – Husband and [[Insert Notable Name]].
Of course, as you grow older you realize a star crush, in particular, is totally unrequited, which for me personally means my interest wanes after about a year of mooning. I can only take so much ignoring, even from George Clooney.
And, then, of course, you have to separate the roles they play on screen and stage from the real person. I have had a few hopes dashed by the tabloids when I realized that beautiful mask they adopt for audiences was much more attractive than what the paparazzi dishes up after catching them off guard (stepping out of In-n-Out Burger in Santa Monica, hung over and disheveled).
Today, I find myself “in between” celebrity crushes. In other words, I am up for grabs. (Hey, celebrity world, anyone need a new groupie?) I am presently taking interviews.
Unlike me, Husband has been able to hold his crush for a while. Her name shall remain anonymous to protect Husband. The only time his interest waned a bit is when she emerged from a hiatus with some Gawd awful plastic surgery. But, Husband’s loyalty could not be completely swayed. Not even those joker lips could stop him from swooning a bit. I, on the other hand, am quite fickle.
Who is your celebrity crush? I’m taking names…
Of Love and Mourning Doves
Posted by: | CommentsSpring has finally made its way to Virginia. And, not only does a man’s thoughts turn to love during this season, but a woman’s, too. The warmer weather has me waxing poetic about all kinds of romantic things. All we have to do it take a look in our backyards to the birds to find evidence that nature is right with us, too.
Husband and I were gifted a bird feeder for a wedding present from our friend Gretchen. And, we have found the various birds who visit us regularly now are quite romantic. The Mourning Doves are some of my favorites (also known as Western Turtle Doves).
Soft gray, always having a pleasant look on their “face,” making big round cooing sounds, and apparently prolific breeders, these particular birds amuse me for all kinds of reasons. For one, they are, well, how shall I put this? a tad zaftig.
If there are eating disorders in the bird kingdom, our mourning doves don’t seem to be bothered. The dove’s roundness dwarfs the other birds – the petit house wrens, the delicate sparrows, and the even the bully blue jays. But, regardless, they are quite social and clearly aren’t feeling the peer pressure. They will come flying in, like a bull in a china shop, booting off the other birds from our bird feeder, unselfconsciously, and look around like, What? Did I do that?
They also travel in pairs. They appear quite loyal to one another.
First, the doves come in for a birdfeeder landing together. If they didn’t, the bird feeder would swing like an amusement park ride, leaving one mourning dove hanging on for dear life until it came to a standstill. As I mentioned they are quite stout.
So, they alight, one on each side, for maximum balancing. They wait until the bird feeder, now gently swaying under their weight, comes to a stop and then they start the business at hand. Eating.
These birds will eat themselves into a food coma. They chow down on bird seed until they plop, beak first, into the pile of empty seed shells on the little bird feeder shelf. Their little fluffy feathers billowing out over the tray. They will snooze for about 15 minutes like that (I’ve timed them), which has to be an eternity in bird years.
They stick together after feasting, too. One will not take off until the other emerges from their seed stupor. They then fly off together, quite quickly for such plumpness, probably on to their next feeding stop.
Amazed by this loyalty, I did a little research. Did you know a whopping 95 percent of birds are at least socially monogamous (even if just for a season)?
Having gotten married later in life – and very unlike the bird world — I visited quite a few feeders before I committed. No, we humans have to learn to be together. But, the birds? They seem to just know what’s gonna work. None of the “is he my soulmate?” stuff. They just go for whoever can balance out the bird feeder best. Ah, the simple life. Somedays, I wonder. Who is ultimately happier?
Would You Rather be a Baffona or Layogenic?
Posted by: | CommentsTres Sugar has a fun post about foreign language words and phrases that mean something around dating, romance and relationships. My favorite is Baffona, which is the Italian word for an attractive mustachioed woman. Not that I want to be one, mind you. But, leave it to the Italians to find almost anything beautiful. God bless them!
Read the comments, too. Some nice additions there.
I would add “fika,” which is Swedish. It means to take a break to have coffee with friends or family but also may or may not be a date. Apparently this is as close as you’re gonna get to romance in Sweden.
It appears that Swedish coupling is a very slow process, even though Sweden has the highest birth rate in Europe. Even the Swedes will tell you it’s a mystery. If you want to read more about Swedish dating and mating habits, read this hysterical post, called Dating in Sweden, by American blogger Kommissarie F. Curiosa at The Local.
Of course, I also add “LBB” which means Late Bloomer Bride. This is a woman who got married for the first time over age 40. Even though it’s in English, I offer it up as something “foreign” to too many.
Do you have any fun non-English words to add?
Other Fun Blogs, Lots of (Really Good) Relationship Advice
Posted by: | CommentsI read. A lot. I’ve come across some terrific bloggers (and other sites) who have interesting perspectives, ask good questions, and provide healthy advice. Below is a very short list of some I’ve come to know and love.
- A Simple Marriage A sample blog post: How To Improve Marriage And Slow Down Life At The Same Time (Terrific advice)
- Moving From Me to We A sample blog post: The Forgotten First Step for Connecting (When self reliance can cause disconnection)
- Luvem or Leavem A sample blog post: Smart Women and Relationships (Good advice here, especially for the very successful)
- His Point of View A sample blog post: Can Your Accomplishments Cause Loneliness? (Something we LBBs struggle with)
- The Love Engineer A sample blog post: Dating After Divorce? Two Words for Ya (Funny!)
- A Good Husband A sample blog post: A New Year’s Resolution for My Marriage (Everyone, sigh with me in pure admiration for this post)
- The Guy’s Perspective A sample blog posting: Part 1: Three Guys on Cheating (You really should read the other two, as well)
- Nandoism A sample blog post: Do You Deserve a Relationship? (We have all had these thoughts)
- Your Tango A sample blog post: 10 Things Happy Couples Talk About (A few surprises here)
Anyone have others they like?
My Three Year Secret: A Fan, A Dance, A Little Romance
Posted by: | CommentsThere comes a time in every relationship when the romance really does leave the building. It takes work to keep the fires going at home.
At first, everything is all wine and roses. Boy cannot get enough of girl. Boy is insatiable. Girl is flattered. Boy and girl promise each other it will never change. But, then, boy has to leave the house one day and go to work. And, then Girl decides to go to bed early one night. Boy decides to stay up late. It all starts to unravel slowly as real life, and its demands, begin to take precedence over mooning over each other.
Bummer.
Psychologists have a word for getting used to something to the point that it doesn’t impact you in the same way. It’s called Hedonic Adaptation. Apparently, we humans are brilliant at this.
In the PBS special, This Emotional Life: Rethinking Happiness, the final part in a three-part series, scientists talk about this. They have discovered the things that make us happy one day, won’t necessarily make us happy the next. We grow used to things. Easily. So, we are, as human beings, always seeking new sources of joy and fulfillment. (Apparently, one way to combat this hedonic adaptation is to cut back on luxurious enjoyment – to make things “treats” versus every day occurances.)
Strike one against craving the same person every day, at the same level.
Strike two on keeping romance alive at home is how society isn’t always that kind to women after a certain age, which dings her confidence tremendously.
When a woman turns 40 she is expected to act like a “mature adult” – whatever that means. Mini-skirts, giggling in public, and any reference at all to a sexual life are meant to be closeted away, never to be seen or heard from again. All this “act your age” talk is really saying “put it away. No one wants to see that.” It’s our society’s little dirty secret. We want to asexualize our older women.
(The “older part” also cracks me up. Because really, if you are going to live to be 90 – which many, many people alive today are going to do – 40 isn’t even half way. How is that old? Shouldn’t 70 – 80 be considered old? And, 40 still be considered adolescence?)
Ah, we are a fickle species.
For Husband and me, we try to buck the trends. While I don’t bother with mini-skirts anymore, I did kind of believe I wouldn’t fall into the trap of feeling like I had to “behave” so much once I turned 40. Ha.
The realization hit after being married for just one year that we were just like every other couple out there. The dreaded cliché of “marriage kills mystery and sexual intrigue” really was a fact.
Fortunately, late bloomer brides bring a number of skills to the marital table – and an independent, can-do attitude is usually one of them. We are do-ers. We’ve had to be.
So, I immediately had the thought that any mature woman of the 21st century might have: I can change this.
I headed out to bring romance behind closed doors. The usuals – more lingerie, more playtime, more whatever.
Then, Oprah intervened. (She’s such a troublemaker, that one.) She had a show in which everyday women were taking exotic dance lessons to lend a little spice to their life.
So, I did the 21st century thing. I googled it. Guess what? Right here, in my own little town, there was a professional dance studio that offered it. All of it – burlesque, striptease, bellydancing, pole dancing, chair dancing, as well as traditional, ballroom dancing.
I registered immediately. It’s been three years now. I am not the same woman.
Recently, someone in my social sphere who discovered my dancing, asked me (and with a serious amount of judgment in her tone, I might add), why would you do that? I readied a speech about empowerment, fitness, increasing body confidence, adding romantic spice to my relationship, developing grace and poise – all the things the dance students truthfully will tell you they have received from learning how to spin, pose, undulate and shimmy.
But, then I decided to tell her the real, real truth. It’s fun.
I started with pole dancing. It seemed the most taboo at the time, and I wanted something drastic. No dilly-dallying around here.
Besides, who would know? All the dance classes are locked down pretty tightly – curtains drawn, doors locked, no men or observers allowed. (Even the male co-owner of the studio isn’t allowed in.) And, if you run into any of your fellow dancers in public, they never, ever let on how you know each other. There is an unspoken oath amongst us.
The women’s ages range from 18 to 76 (no kidding). They come from every background you can imagine. In fact, one of the instructors has a Ph.D. in neuroscience (no kidding). And, their reasons vary from wanting to add a little spice to their life to fitness. One woman lost 20 pounds (no kidding). And, there was no more skin showing than what you’d see around a public American family swimming pool – in fact you’d see more there.
One of my favorite fellow students is in her 70s. “R” has been pole dancing for several years now. She can do a “pull up” on the pole – meaning pull her entire body weight up off the floor with the mere strength of her arms. She’ll tell you that she’s much stronger now than she was when she was in her 60s. Her husband agrees. She is my idol.
When I first started taking these dance classes, I told no one. Husband didn’t even know. I liked having a secret – and thought somehow through osmosis this secret would leak itself into our romantic life. He knew I was taking a class, but didn’t know which kind. I would come home and rub arnica oil onto bruised legs from attempting to spin around this one-inch-in-diameter steel pole and crawl around the floor in an attempt to look, well, graceful.
Side note: Anyone who thinks pole dancing is for women who don’t have any other skills has never tried to fling their body around said steel dowel and tried to make it look good. The women who are really into this – for sport and dance, not men’s entertainment – are serious athletes. Take a look.
Husband would watch my arnica-oil ritual and ask, What kind of class are you taking?
Oh, just a dance class.
Well, be careful.
Then I took a striptease exotic class. Wow. I learned a routine. I decided to “out” myself with Husband. Forget the secret osmosis. I showed him what I learned.
[[The next section has been deleted for your protection. It might melt your computer screen.]]
Introduce more romantic fire into our life? Check.
Then, I started exploring more. Enter burlesque.
Burlesque is flirty, prance-y and a not-at-all serious form of striptease dancing. It’s almost little girl like, twirling and all. The idea is to tease and show off, but never, ever show too much. You won’t see any naked burlesque dancers – just shiny, glittery, feathery costumes. That’s half the fun.
In class each week we would shimmy, shake, and fling boas around until the floor was so littered with feathers it looked like a chicken had exploded – albeit a multicolored, punk rock chicken.
At some point, our instructor introduced Fan work. I am now a fan addict.
Today, I am the proud owner of my very own 50 inch, regulation Sally Rand, black and hot pink, ostrich feather fan. I love this thing.
If our townhouse were to burn down, I would be sure to grab three things besides Husband: my laptop, my Ipod and the fan. Husband has strict instructions to do the same, if I’m not at home when the flames start.
I now have tried just about everything they offer at the dance studio. The interesting thing is – while the romantic benefits of being able to dance for – or let’s say, entertain — Husband turned out as you can imagine – something else happened.
For one, I have made some really great friends. The women I’ve met at the studio are the most inspiring, generous, compassionate people I’ve ever met. They want nothing more than for you – and everyone around them – to feel good about themselves, to feel graceful and beautiful, to feel ageless. It is the least judgmental space I have ever encountered, hands down.
But, something else big happened.
Being a late bloomer has terrific benefits – if you are paying attention. You can avoid other’s mistakes, for one. But, it also can come with doubts, a sense of feeling behind, and – since society says there are certain age for certain things – sometimes make you feel you’ve completely missed out on your time.
For me, these classes gave me something much more than a boost in the bedroom. It really turned out to be about the complete and utter annihilation of the thought that I am too old for, well, anything. And, there aren’t many places in the world that foster that.
It’s ironic really. There you are doing something with your body (and I can’t do half the things that some of the younger women can do), which is usually the first thing that signals your age. Yet, when dancing, age disappears.
I am sure there are people out there reading this thinking, come on, aren’t you proliferating the objectification of women? Isn’t there something else you could do, like read a book, go into therapy, take more ballroom dancing, or continue to watch Oprah’s shows on how age doesn’t really matter, to deal with these issues?
I tried all those. They weren’t nearly as much fun. (Plus, I don’t think a therapist would appreciate me sitting on his or her couch waving a 50 inch ostrich feather fan.)
During an extraordinarily busy time, I once threatened to reduce the amount of time I spent dancing. Husband was honestly concerned. Husband likes to see my routines. But, he will regularly say, to those friends who know of this extracurricular activity, that it really isn’t about him. It’s about me and the other women. He just gets a little side benefit action from time to time. He sees how it makes me happy.
Of course, that doesn’t stop Husband from asking, learn any new dance moves?
Why, yes, I have. Wanna see? Let me go get my fan…
P.S. Husband is a very private and conservative guy. He has nixed a few LBB blog posts in the past. This post, however, was suggested by Husband. He thought my readers should know about the power of this dance program and the contributions it has made to our life and countless of other women’s lives.
The LBB Perspective on PBS’ This Emotional Life: Families, Friends & Lovers
Posted by: | CommentsPBS recently launched a three-part television series called This Emotional Life. Hosted by Daniel Gilbert, a social psychologist who studies happiness, it explores the emotional side of being human.
The first segment, Families, Friends & Lovers, focuses on the state of our relationships, their impact, and the level of importance in a person’s life. Normally, I would be thinking, well, didn’t I already know this stuff? But, this series goes into specifics about how our emotions are dictated by the health of our relationships to such depth, I ended up clinging to Husband on the couch.
Daniel Gilbert goes on to explain: When we come together as family, as friends as lovers, we become more than the sum of our parts. We are the most successful of all the animals on our planet because we’re the most social. …in the end, those social connections, those bonds are what it’s all about. When they are strong, we are happy. When they are threatened, we worry. When they disappear, we suffer….Our happiness is in each other’s hands.
Let the clinging begin.
How we deal with relationships is tied to how we start in the world – babyhood — and how much love and attention we receive. Then, as we move into social realms – extended families, school, friendships – things get really interesting. And, eventually, as we are led to romantic love in the form of coupling and partnership, it reaches a head. My clinging grew a little more fevered at that point.
Companionship’s importance is as high for our survival as food, water and shelter, said Gilbert. And, because we—as a society – are so good at interacting with others, we are a powerful species.
Well. Pat ourselves on the back.
But, as this show delves into all kinds of topics, profiling people and families going through some of the harder aspects of relationship, we see how sometimes we are not very good at being with others. The show looks deeply into attachment disorder, Asperger’s Syndrome, conflict, leadership, children, power struggles, bullying, cooperation, infidelity, sex, loneliness and more.
Being together may be integral to our well being, but we make – and break – each other’s hearts constantly.
For a married-later-in life woman, a few “a-ha” moments, as well as just good old fashioned vindication, were found including:
1. Give up perfection. The show reinforces what we all know: expectation management is key. This is hard for an LBB, who waited a long time—either by choice or not – to commit to the marriage level of relationship. When you do take the marital plunge, no matter how sophisticated you think you are, certain expectations exist. He is supposed to be The One, Bringing All Manners of Perfection Into Your Life.
But, Elizabeth Gilbert, one of my favorite authors, who was interviewed for this segment summed up the fallacy of seeking such expectations beautifully: It’s not enough that you have this sort of decent relationship with this person. He also has to be your best friend. He also has to be your only romantic partner. He also has to be somebody who inspires you every day. He has to be somebody who is going to help your career. He has to be somebody who co-parents with you. He has to meet you on 25 different levels of intersection. It’s this giant sack of expectation that we’ve piled on to this sort of wobbly head of this old institution that was never necessarily about that in the past.
The centuries’ old tradition of getting married continues, but our expectations have grown exponentially. Come to think about it, if this were a few centuries ago, I’d be dead by now. They did not have late bloomer brides in the 16th century. (Given how long we live, perhaps now we are striving for perfection because we’re gonna be with them for a long, long time?)
2. Conflict is natural. To paraphrase what I heard on This Emotional Life, committing yourself to live with one person invites a certain level of disagreement and opportunities for disappointment. Kind of like, if you dive into the lake, you are inviting getting wet and maybe be nibbled by some fish. If you want to be sure to stay dry (and fish free), stay out of the water. So, relationships invite the possibility of all kinds of things – both good and bad – that you didn’t have to deal with alone.
As an LBB, I had hoped all manners of things would be resolved from marriage. Rather, some things are and some things that were once resolved now become unresolved. Sleeping alone gets handled. But, then Husband introduces furniture that you wouldn’t take home for free. You go from living in your dream-decorated little condo to our place, living with an uncomfortable kitchen banquet that doesn’t fit anywhere.
3. Doing things together is marital fertilizer. Forgetting for a moment how relationships break up, the show turns to how relationships last about two-thirds in. Doing things together, building something together and just plain having some fun and excitement is the key.
Oh, and a really good sex life (as you define it).
Art Aron, Ph.D. said: What it takes to have a relationship that is vibrant, that is lively, that is exciting…from the research so far, we know 2 things that bring in the positive. One is what is called capitalization and that is getting excited about your partners successes and building on them, capitalizing on them. The other is making your life together exciting.
When couples share novel and exciting experiences together, they grow close. Good thing Husband and I are having the Year of Fun (with just a little more clinging).
There’s more, but you may just have to set your own DVRs or buy the DVD.
