I Don't Need a Superhero

So I just finished watching "Green Lantern" (yes, again - Ryan Reynolds in green spandex?? Who wouldn't watch that repeatedly?) and I wanted to give a great big THANK YOU to the writers.  Now, I'm sure that when they were putting the storyline together they didn't sit down and think about how the single girl might view the ending, or what deep philosophical lesson she might take from it, or even that it would be any different than any other superhero movie. Ever.  But between the half-naked shots of Mr. Reynolds and the distracting green spandex (yay for that) there was a lesson to be learned.

SPOILER ALERT!!!

The superhero leaves at the end.

We've grown up on these stories where the hero swoops in, saves the single and unfortunate girl and they live happily ever after.  Every time you put a superhero in a movie there inevitably has to be a love story that goes along with it, and it always culminates with the same damn ending.  They end up together.  Forever.  Or at least through the credits and then on in your mind.

Think about it - as young girls we're read Cinderella.  The charming prince (read: hero) saves the girl from a life of wicked slavery.  TA-DA!  Then there's Sleeping Beauty.  No need to rehash that story.  Superman, anyone?

So what do we learn as young girls?  Every single girl needs a superhero.

But in Green Lantern, Ryan Reynolds leaves.  He flies off.  With some crazy line about have to be "gone for awhile."  And guess what happens then?  Nothing.  The girl doesn't break down sobbing or dwelling on how her life has now been ruined since the man who just saved her is leaving.  She goes on.  At least through the credits, and then on in my mind.

Superheroes swoop.  They swoop in, they swoop out.  They're great for the big stuff but not so fantastic with the day-to-day, not-feeling-so-good, have-mucus-running-down-my-face kinds of stuff.  I had a superhero and I remember telling my friends - he's great for the big stuff (he flew out to Ohio when I needed him to be there) but not so great on anything else.  Recently he's decided his flight plan would include California once again.

I don't need (nor do I want) a superhero.  I'm confident in me - I know that I'm fully capable of taking care of myself.  What I want, eventually, is a partner.  Someone who can stand next to me in the bad moments, bring me Nyquil when I'm sick, share my successes without feeling overshadowed and partake in my life in every moment, not just the ones he thinks he can save me from.  I don't need saving.

Thank you Green Lantern.

Loving, Losing and Life's Reminders

I have a confession - I don't like to lose. Now, most of you reading this just let out some version of a snort and a "no way, really?" but that distaste extends to most areas of my life.

I've been to more funerals in the last 6 months than most people go to in years.  I've had to fly home twice in 3 years just to attend one. I'm kind of done with funerals. And those are just the losses that had some concrete service to attend. There have been others...

I've always lived by the philosophy that it's better to feel something than nothing at all. Giving up the losses in my life would mean that I have to also give up the love I received from each of those people. And there is nothing in this world that would make me want that.

But recently I'd gotten to the point where I was in a bit of an emotional crisis. I'd opened my heart and I'm fairly certain it was attacked with a potato masher. Couple that with the multiple losses in a few short weeks (including a recent loss of a very dear friendship) and you have one emotionally-spent Jen. I shut down. It was if my heart finally said, "Enough. I've got nothing left to give. There's nothing left in here to break." Some unconscious part of me realized that if I didn't open my heart again, there would be no risk of loss. That was it, I was done.

It was time for some mind-numbing therapeutic entertainment. I sat down and threw in "The Sweetest Thing." Yes, I know that technically it's a romantic comedy, but the penis song alone is worthy of some laughs. That was what I needed, to escape my own brain for a short moment in time.

And then a crazy thing happened. Life offered me a reminder. There's a scene near the end where Cameron Diaz is leaning against a door repeating, "I will not be afraid." That one line spoke to my core. Here I was, being afraid of hurting. So, if it's good enough for Cameron Diaz, it's good enough for me.

I realized in that moment I couldn't be afraid of opening my heart. I wouldn't give up the moments I had in my past with the people I loved, why would I give up future ones? It's one of life's greatest ironies - you can't have one without the other. You can't have absolute bliss and happiness without risking heartbreak. It's bound to happen sooner or later. You can't experience the love of others if you don't offer love in return.

So for this holiday season, my present to me is the gift of no fear. Feeling something rather than nothing at all. Of course, if I had my way 2012 would be filled with nothing but positive feelings. I am, however, braced for anything that the universe may throw at me.

May you all find love (however you define it) and happiness this holiday season.

Single at the Holidays

Just recently someone was telling me her plans for New Year's which involved some fundraising event...meant for singles.  She's slightly older than I am (okay, she's in her 50s) and single but she went on and on and ON about this party.  Then she says, "You really should do that too.  You won't end up alone on New Year's."

Huh?

Okay, okay, okay - I get it.  I'm single.  It's the holidays.  Many holiday gatherings are geared toward the relationship-prone.  Invitations come addressed to +1 which, unfortunately, is not a Google+ reference.  I just met a guy on a plane who offered to fly me out to Indianapolis for his company holiday party.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I met the guy on the plane and after 2 hours of conversation he said he'd fly me out to go with him to the party.  Apparently, company gatherings for single men can be just as uncomfortable as for single women.  But I digress.

I stood there trying to imagine what she was picturing my New Year's Eve was going to be.  Did she think I'd be sitting on my couch alternating between crying and shoving large spoonfuls of high fat content ice cream into my mouth as I watched the ball drop all alone wishing beyond all human comprehension that I wasn't single?  Really? (Side note: I have actually done that. I'm not superwoman for crying out loud.  But not this year, and I didn't really appreciate the assumption.)

Let me point out something here that I thought (until now) was too obvious for words...just because I'm single doesn't mean I'm going to be alone.  I actually have New Year's plans.  Believe it or not.

So please, please, PLEASE do not pity your single friends at the holidays.  Some may be choosing to be single, some may just need your support.  But what none of us need is pity (or the pity-invitation).

Happy (Single) Holidays!!!

Change of Plans

“If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.”

I’m a planner by nature.  Never been much of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl.  Plans on Friday night?  Determined by Tuesday.  Growing up, I had my entire life planned out.  Obviously not down to specifics, but by the time I hit the end of my second year of undergrad I knew where I was headed.  I packed everything I owned into my car and moved my life out to California - partially to escape a past, partially to work on that plan (you know the one - marriage, babies, a white picket fence, the “true American dream”).  Within a year of settling here I had met the man of my dreams.  Even though he and I had our own share of ups and downs and moments when real life began to interfere, I was set on what the rest of my life was going to look like.

6 years ago today, the universe decided to change my plans.  No warnings, no “hey Jen, get ready for the chaos that’s about to ensue,” no nothing.  Just a change of plans in the form of a car accident.  It was as if the universe had taken every mental blueprint I made about my life, threw them up in the air, and the wind took hold and blew them all away.  Who was I without my plan?

Perhaps you've been confronted with your own life-altering moments - moments where you're completely lost and have no idea how you'll survive.  Perhaps you're in the middle of one right now.  Someone just recently asked me how I got through that moment in my life.  The truth is, I honestly have no idea.  I do know that I had amazing people surrounding me, people encouraging me to take one step forward.  Within 24 hours my mom had landed in California with a 1-way ticket in her hand, who put up with my craziness and even dealt with the moment that I threw my cell phone across my living room.  And that night I had class, the first night of a new session that I couldn’t miss for fear of being dropped, where I met the professor who became my unofficial hero - who will never truly know just how much he actually saved my life.

Without lectures, he taught me that I had a choice.  I had a choice to stay in class that night.  I had a choice to let my grief envelope me, which is honestly what I really wanted to do.  I had the choice to focus on the plans I had lost, instead of what I had gained. I had the choice to put one foot in front of the other and take the baby steps I needed to squash the chaos around me.  I had the choice to turn my loss into something positive - a way to honor this man I loved while working through the pain.  I had the choice to pick myself up, dust off my clothing, fix the rips in my knees and start to move forward instead of being stuck in the grief.  Don’t get me wrong - I would trade everything to never have been forced to make those choices in my life.  But I couldn’t change it.

Life is really just a series of choices.  We all get to the point where we’re knocked over, where the universe decides it’s time for a change of plans, where we can’t stop it.  We can choose to adapt to those changes or get lost inside them.  Our choices are what define us, give us strength, wipe us out, or offer hope.  We may not always make the right choice.  No one is perfect, and thus there will always be decisions that aren’t technically the best.  But we make them.  And then we make others.  The point is, all we can ever ask for is to choose the best option in any given situation - choosing to be the best version of ourselves and in the process, choosing to put one foot in front of the other.

May your choices today build you up and offer you hope, happiness, peace and love.

Friends Don't Let Friends #1

Friends don't let friends date good friends of friends.


I don’t have many rules when it comes to dating except for those concerning basic hygiene, no socks with sandals, and no sleeveless shirts on a first date (thanks to my friend Julie for this one), but this is one rule I’ve managed to stick with for quite some time.  I’ve learned, through experience, that the whole friends of friends thing can potentially cause some serious issues.  If it doesn’t work you end up dealing with the complete awkwardness when you’re at the same functions and then the phase of what I like to call “friend reallocation” - the time when others have to decide who they like better.  And with that comes the dissection of what went wrong.  I know this way of dating has worked for some people....I just have never been one of them.

So usually when I hear a good friend start to say something to the effect of, “I have this really great guy friend” I’m already 4 steps out the door before the end of the sentence.

But, in an effort to move this blog along, let me just tell you that I caved on my rule.  I decided to give it a whirl.  I decided to go out on a date with a "really good friend" of a really good friend.  While the date when just fine (He's a good guy and I’m fairly certain I could carry a conversation with a brick wall), by the end of the night we both realized it ended up fitting nicely into the “once and done” category.

So, that brings me back to the whole "friends of friends" dilemma.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go prepare myself for the inevitable, “But why Jen? You guys would have been so PERFECT together...”

The Rant

“I don’t know Jennifer....it seems like it’s do or die time.”

I stood there dumbfounded, my mouth hanging open just slightly.  I was speechless and if you know me you know that happens very rarely.  Did I really just hear that?  I’m talking, of course, of the well-intentioned person who has once again decided that they hear my biological clocking ticking and need to remind me that I’m getting up there in age.  But seriously?  It’s so extreme that it’s do or die time?  Like the world is going to magically stop rotating if I wait too much longer to start the whole marriage, 2.5 kids, house, white picket fence and a dog idea?  I’m actually going to die of singlehood???

First - a disclaimer.  It’s not like I haven’t tried.  I have, repeatedly.  Some times with some good guys, some times with some I-should-have-never-dated-you-in-the-first-place kind of guys.  My choice now is quality over quantity.  But still, I continue to hear these statements.

Now, imagine for a brief second the possibility that those exact words were heard by someone struggling with infertility. What would that person think of these words - what kind of damage could they have caused?

Every single word we speak, and even the words we leave unspoken, carry incredible amounts of power.  One 6-minute phone call in the last few weeks knocked me over for days, simply because of things that were said (and not said) from someone who claims to care about me.

Everyone has a story, and usually we’re not privy to the full non-censored version.

So here’s my story - the deep dark secret that until now I’ve hid from the world.  While this health condition I’ve written about in past blogs is not always life-threatening, it is genetic.  And if it does appear in a newborn, however remote that possibility may be, it IS almost 100% fatal.  I’ve struggled for over a year with whether or not I even want to take that chance.  Right now I don't. And even if I did, how in the world do you ask someone else to take on that risk with you?  I've only had 2 men in my entire life that I would have ever thought I could - 1 that I did, and 1 that I will never get the chance to.

I tell you this not to induce pity.  In fact, that is the exact reason it has remained a secret for so long - that I never want anyone to look at me like that.  What I think sometimes we forget is that when we speak, no matter how innocent or well-intentioned our words may be, we misunderstand the impact they can make on someone else.  The “but you’re so pretty,” or “you’d make such a great mother,” "why aren't you married," or even “I can’t believe you’re single,” are merely just judgements in disguise of the I-want-you-to-be-happy hooey.  And without knowing someone's story, we run the risk of doing irreparable damage.  We run the risk of falling into society's expectations.  We run the risk of hurting others.  Words are powerful, and that power has to be respected.

May your words today heal, not hurt.

No Need to Worry

Homeless men love me.  That one sentence pretty much sums up the majority of men that hit on me.  I used to say that only young kids and old men ever did, but apparently that is no longer true.

I didn’t discover this particular phenomenon until a recent trip to San Francisco.  I’m quite certain I was hit on by every other homeless man who walked down the street.  One in particular did this to me:

<Walking toward me> “Damn girl, hold on” <Puts one finger up, does a complete circle around me on the street> “Yeah girl, you’re fine.”

I had to give him credit - it was the best pickup line I’ve ever heard in my entire life.  And as crazy as this sounds, I found myself thinking - If only we had somewhere to go....

I had convinced myself this was strictly a SF occurrence.  I believe my hypothesis has been proved wrong once again.  There is a guy in Escondido who hangs out near the 7-eleven by my home, and the workers there call this guy “menacing.”  They call EPD regularly and tell them he is harassing the patrons.  I’ve never been harassed, unless you count the occasional “Hey can you buy me a soda?”  Being a single female, I can give you the definition of harassment.  This guy is not it.  I mean, he’s like 8 feet tall and doesn’t ever wear a shirt, but he’s never come across as menacing to me.

Anyway, this last 7-eleven run proved to be interesting.  I think he knows now what my car looks like.  As I made my way out of the store he was walking toward me.  I figured he’d ask for money or something so I mentally tried to figure out how much cash I had on me at the time.  Instead, this is what I got - “Hey, I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re beautiful.  Have a good day, and I hope I see you around.”

See people, no need to worry - I can get a date.