One Too Many Rejections

Do you know that GIF of Emma Stone crying into her ice cream? Well that was me last night…and this morning…and five minutes ago.

You see, I’ve actually been doing pretty well this year given the sucky hand I’ve been dealt lately. Between having to do four consecutive egg freezing cycles to have any chance of having a biological child in the future, finding out my contract at work isn’t going to be renewed because of Covid-related losses, and having to navigate the depressing world of online dating at 30 years old when I would really rather be married and starting a family, things haven’t been a walk in the park. But despite all that, I woke up happy most days. I counted my blessings, approached life with confidence and hope and excitement.

But that doesn’t mean I still don’t encounter rough patches. And boy are they rough.

I’ve always liked the idea of being someone who bounces back from rejection quickly, who barely even let those sort of minor disappointments affect her. When I interviewed at three companies in one week and got rejected from all of them, I just said, “Oh well, none of those were the right fit for me anyway. I know I’ll find a better match.”

When not one, not two, but FIVE different guys I’d been having great conversations with on dating apps, who had reached out me and expressed interest, who I’d had great chemistry with, who asked me out on dates, all unmatched me suddenly in the days before we were meant to meet, I was bummed but I moved on pretty quickly to the next guy.

And guess what? That next guy turned out to be great and we spent two weeks texting and talking on the phone and for the first time in months I actually got excited about going on a date. I knew it wasn’t wise, but I let myself get too invested before even meeting someone. We both talked about what our ideal day in a relationship might look like, and our visions matched up pretty closely. I started to imagine sharing a cup of coffee or tea with him before work, exploring the city together, cooking dinner with each other every night. We had great chemistry over the phone and it seemed like we were both looking for the exact same things. He was so easy to talk to and we ended up chatting about pretty much everything. I even mentioned to him how I wasn’t a fan of this recent trend of people unmatching or ghosting before a date, and I’d rather someone just tell me if they’re not interested.

We were supposed to go on our first date tomorrow at a cool new exhibit in the city that I’ve been wanting to go to for months (so I was excited for two reasons). Well I’m sure you can guess how this story ends. He ghosted, and I didn’t take it great.

I know I shouldn’t have gotten so invested in someone I didn’t even know. I mean maybe in person we wouldn’t have had that spark, maybe we had some fundamental difference that would have spelled doom for things down the road, maybe, maybe maybe.

That’s the thing that sucks most. I’ll never know what could have been, because I didn’t even get a chance to explore things with him.

Actually that’s not what sucks most. What sucks most is that someone would take the time to put in all that work, would actually bother asking you out on a date, and then remind you that your feelings are actually meaningless to them when they decide to take an easy out and move on with their lives while you’re left wondering what you might have done wrong.

Well I guess all that rejection eventually got to me, because today I finally cried all the tears that I refused to spill these last months.

I vented to a best friend, and while it felt good to get stuff off my chest and I appreciated her listening, I knew she wasn’t going to say anything that made me feel better. I mean she met her fiancé in college. She’s getting married this year at 26. I don’t expect her to get what it feels like to be in my position. She said the same things I’d probably say to a friend going through the same thing, like how you have to love yourself before someone else can love you which I agree with but there are also plenty of people out there who don’t love themselves who still find people to love them.

Sometimes I feel like dating these days is a minefield. I’ve gotten unmatched just for saying something as innocuous as, “How’s your day going?” Clearly there was obviously something else going on with that person—maybe they just got out of a relationship and realized they weren’t ready for dating, maybe they started talked to someone else they were more interested in, maybe they got kidnapped by Bane—but where do I go to meet the people who I can just have a normal conversation with, meet up with for a cup of coffee, and see again if it goes well? Why can’t dating just be that simple?

If I’m being honest, it’s hard when things like this happen. Once or twice I can handle it, but when it happens again and again, my confidence does take a knock. I start to question whether I’m worthy of being loved, whether there’s something profoundly wrong with me, whether I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life.

I don’t want to dwell in these feelings longer than I have to. I’m still bummed but I’m not going to stay in bed all day and cry into my ice cream (even though I’m very tempted by the idea). I’m going to make my bed, make myself some coffee, and focus on what I can do from here to get closer to the place I want to be in my life.

Even though it’ll be hard and my heart doesn’t feel in it right now, I’m going to sit down and apply to more jobs, I’m going to spend a few hours revising my novel, I’m going to keep swiping on my dating apps so I can meet my new Next Guy and hopefully one of those Next Guys will turn out to be The Guy.

I have to admit, writing all my feelings out in this post did help me feel better. Well, I’ve stopped crying anyway so that’s a start. Here’s hoping for better days ahead!

Be a Target, Not a Victim

I had an unexpected moment of weakness today. I was going about my day, watching YouTube videos about getting rust stains off stainless steel pans (adulthood is so exciting), when I was struck with this sudden urge to FB stalk my ex. In the two months since things ended between us, I haven’t once been tempted to poke around his social media, but I just felt this random longing to see what was going on in his life. Luckily, he’s never been the most active person online, so there wasn’t anything new for me to obsess over or pick apart, but just seeing him again stirred a distant sadness inside me.

I had been doing so well with not thinking about him. There had been weeks where I was so occupied with other stuff in my life that he barely registered in my mind. But somehow, I got so over my hurt and sadness, that I actually circled back to only remembering the good times with him and then missing him again. Thanks for nothing, brain!

When I saw his pictures today, I admit I got little misty-eyed. I started to feel sorry for myself, and then I had a realization that I’ve kind of known all along. I like feeling sorry for myself.

It’s not something I’m proud of, but it’s something I have to acknowledge and accept. Letting myself wallow in all the bad things that happen to me is a guilty pleasure, almost an addiction. On my first date with my ex, I remember telling him about the person I dated before him even though that’s a big no-no. I told him about how the way he ended things hurt me and how I didn’t want to go through that again. I justified my first date faux pas by looking at it as a way of protecting myself.

Then I kept bringing him up even after the first date. I would tell him how the other guy was never very affectionate or how he would be cold when I tried to have important talks with him, deliberately leaving out any mistakes I made in these situations. I will admit, I wanted him to feel bad for me, I wanted him to acknowledge the hurt even though he wasn’t the one who caused it. I wanted to believe I wasn’t responsible for any of the things that happened to me, that I was just a victim of circumstances.

But I wasn’t a victim at all. I’d had plenty of autonomy the whole time. I could have chosen to walk away from the situation sooner rather than continue to invest my time and emotions and hope things would change. I could have dated other people. I could have told him exactly what I wanted from the get-go and asked him what he wanted to make sure we were on the same page.

In his book about modern stoicism, William B. Irvine talks about the concept of being a target vs a victim. Everyone will experience bad circumstances outside of their control at some point in their lives. At that point, they can choose to be a victim and wallow, asking themself “why me?” They can continue to feel powerless and move through life believing their happiness is out of control. OR they can be a target, and accept that this thing happened to them and realize that while they don’t have power over the circumstance, they have power over their thoughts and actions. Targets tend to bounce back from hardships faster, because they know they can play an active role in shaping their happiness.

In my life, the area where I tend to wallow the most is dating. It’s easier to feel sorry for myself when I can’t find someone to connect with rather than take responsibility. Obviously I can’t control anyone’s feelings towards me, but I can control my thoughts and actions. I can put myself out there more, I can work up the courage to strike up a conversation with a cute guy or join activities where I’m more likely to meet people. I can choose to love myself and accept that not everyone is going to be into me and their opinions shouldn’t dictate my self-worth. Putting the burden of responsibility back on myself means I only have myself to blame, which is a scary thing, but it also means I have all the power.

When you’ve spent as much time throwing pity parties for yourself as I have, it can be a challenge to make this shift in your mind. I still struggle with it, like I did today, but I also catch myself a lot faster. Instead of breaking out into a full on ugly cry into my Ben & Jerry’s, I just made myself lunch, put on some good TV, and moved on. Because here’s the thing about feeling sorry for yourself: It’s completely pointless.

It accomplishes nothing and only makes you feel worse about your situation. So the next time you feel inclined to feel sorry for yourself, do literally anything else instead. Dance around to your favorite music, treat yourself to something sweet, or throw on that outfit that makes you feel like an absolute goddess. And remind yourself: you’re the only person who gets to control your happiness. Don’t give that power to anyone else.

20 Lessons I Learned in 2020

How does one possibly sum up the year that was 2020? I can honestly say this was the most difficult, emotional, chaotic year ever, and it was also the year I learned some of the most important lessons of my life. So without further ado…

On Life:

Your life isn’t going to begin when you accomplish x or obtain y. Life started the day you were born, and it’s happening right now! It’s also never going to look exactly how you imagined. Don’t let the arbitrary deadlines we as a society set for ourselves freak you out. Being a single woman in your 30s doesn’t mean you’re an old maid. You still have so much life ahead of you, so go out and dance and kiss strangers in the rain and spend all your money on avocado toast and all that other stuff that’s supposedly reserved for younger folks.

Fail early and often. Don’t let a fear of failure stop you from trying at all, because it’s through failing that we get to a better place. As an aspiring writer, I know better than anyone how easy it is to procrastinate. I put off writing a first draft because I worry it will be terrible, but so what? It’s going to be terrible whether I write it today or one year from now. If I write it today, I’ll have an extra year to polish it and work on my craft and turn that terrible first draft into something amazing.

Don’t let other people dictate your life. Friends and family can offer helpful advice, but at the end of the day it’s about doing what’s right for you, not them. You’re the one who’s going to have to live with the decisions you make, so make sure they’re the right ones for you.

Letting go of where you are now is scary, but it’s the only way to get to a better place. Leaving a job I didn’t enjoy was the only way I could get hired at a company I love. Leaving behind a bad dating situation is the only way to make space in my life for a much healthier, loving relationship.

Life is so much more fun when you let go of expectations. That doesn’t mean not having standards for yourself or other people. That simply means going into situations without having preconceived notions of what it’s supposed to look like. Let life surprise you. Being pleasantly surprised is a lot more enjoyable than being constantly disappointed.

On Dating:

Judge someone by what they do and not what they say. I spent plenty of time with sweet-talkers, who’d call me baby and hon, tell me I was beautiful, tell me how much they missed me, and then one day, dump me like a bag of hot potatoes. If someone isn’t putting in real effort—that means asking you out on dates, making time for you in their schedule, going out of their way to show you they care—they’re not worth your time.

It’s not going to work out with most of the people you date, and that’s okay. The odds are that the majority of first dates you go on aren’t going to lead to relationships, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself. Pick an activity you’ve always wanted to do, eat out at a restaurant you’ve been dying to try, have fun getting dolled up, practice your flirting skills, enjoy learning about someone else’s life, and if all else fails, think of the great story it’ll make one day.

If someone really likes you, you won’t ever wonder if they do. And here’s a bonus lesson: listen to your gut. Deep down, we often know the truth, but we’ll go through a bunch of mental gymnastics to convince ourselves otherwise. You can ignore it for as long as you like, but sooner or later reality’s going to catch up to you, and the longer you wait, the harder it’s going to hit you.

Have your own life. You shouldn’t be sitting around hoping your crush will ask to see you. For starters, this just sets you up for disappointment if they don’t. It also just makes you not a very interesting person. Think about it this way: would you want to date the person who spent the last week watching Netflix and waiting for you to call or the person who went to the museum, learned how to cook duck à l’orange, dominated their friends at board game night, and took a trapeze class?

Have standards, and communicate them often. A relationship only works if both people are getting what they need out of it. When you really like someone, all you want to do is make them happy, and that makes you willing to sacrifice your standards. Don’t. Ever. Do. This. I can’t emphasize enough how important this is. Sure, it might scare off some guys, but you don’t want those kind of guys in your life in the first place. The ones who stick around will be the ones who respect you and will connect with you on a much deeper level. Believe it or not, having standards actually makes you more desirable, so if you don’t have some, get some!

On Happiness:

Have a life philosophy. That means knowing how you’re going to deal with setbacks, what’s going to make you happy, and how you’re going to live your life. Since I learned about Stoicism this year, it’s become my go-to philosophy, and I no longer feel like I’m just wandering aimlessly through my life.

Some of the most powerful tools for happiness are 100% free. Since I started regularly meditating and journaling this year, my stress levels have dropped considerably. I’ve gotten much better at not ruminating on negative thoughts, and I’m learning to be more present in each moment which leads me to my next point…

Forget the past and future, the present is where it’s at. You have no control over the past because it isn’t actually real, all you have are memories of it (mind-blowing, I know!). The future obviously hasn’t happened yet but the present…oh, the present is a beautiful place. You have the power to shape it exactly how you want, to make it as enjoyable or as horrible as you’d like. Right now I’m at home visiting my parents. I could spend my time moping in bed thinking about all the things that went wrong this year or I could spend it watching a good movie with my dad, cooking with my mom, laughing and having fun. The present is amazing, so enjoy it, appreciate it, and stop trying to live somewhere else.

The quality of our social connections is the #1 thing that determines our happiness. Money, status, flashy cars…all that stuff means nothing if you don’t have good people in your life. Go out there and meet people who are interested in the same stuff as you, strengthen your relationships with the friends and family you already have, and prioritize experiences with the people you love over material goods.

Don’t let anyone make you feel bad about putting yourself first. Self-care isn’t selfish, it’s a priority. Ever hear the phrase, “You can’t pour from an empty cup?” Being our best possible selves also means we can show up for the people in our lives in the best possible way. So go ahead and draw yourself a bubble bath, pour yourself some wine, and get your hygge on.

Be grateful. It’s human nature to focus on the negative over the positive (those pesky evolutionary traits), but I’m willing to bet there’s a lot in your life worth appreciating. Nobody loves you? Your friends and family beg to differ. You’ve accomplished nothing in your life? Younger you disagrees! Practice gratitude as often as you can, even for the things you take for granted, like the home you live in, the food you eat, the fresh air you get to breathe. It’ll change your whole perspective.

Happiness is not something you need to chase. I can’t speak for those with depression or other extenuating circumstances, but for a lot of us, we already have everything we need at our disposal. Psychology shows that most of the tools for happiness are pretty simple: meditation, gratitude, exercise, sleep, and social connections to name a few.

On Self-Worth:

Rejection is rarely personal and is by no means a reflection of who you are as a person. Getting passed over for a job doesn’t mean you’re not good at what you do, getting dumped doesn’t mean you’re not desirable. You never know what experiences and ideas have shaped another person’s perspective of you and the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can brush it off and find people who will appreciate what you have to offer.

Be kind to yourself. I can guarantee you will make mistakes and bad decisions. You’ll do things you’ll still regret years down the road. You’re not the only one. You can’t judge yourself on the mistakes you made in the past with the knowledge and experience you have in the present. Besides, those mistakes are the very things that helped you grow and become a better person.

And finally:

It’s never too late to build the life you want. It doesn’t matter if you’re 16 or 60, don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re out of time. Maybe you’re older than you would have liked to be when making a change, but you’re younger than you will be five years from now and that version of you is going to think you’re a dummy if you don’t take action. And guess what! You don’t have to wait for a new year to start over. You can start over as many times as you like—every month, every day, every hour, even right now.

Saying the Quiet Stuff Out Loud

I had to think hard about whether this was a post I actually wanted to publish on the Internet where everything is forever, or if I wanted to keep it to myself and work it out privately in my journal. I figured, though, the whole point of this blog is for you to see me untangle all the messy parts of my life on my journey to becoming happier, and it’s not a particularly honest journey if I show you just the tidy revelations, and not the far-less-tidy path it took to get there. So, here goes.

I’ve talked about my ex here before, but I feel weird, even dishonest almost, when I call him that. He was never my boyfriend, but we weren’t exactly casually dating either. I think we had what the kids these days call a “situationship.”

Over 14 months, we went on about ten dates. These weren’t “hang out for an hour or two and get dinner” dates. Our first date lasted 24 hours. After that, it wasn’t unusual for us to spend 6-8 hours together at a time. When we were doing long distance, we had phone calls that lasted just as long. In the first few months especially, my phone would light up with an “I miss you” text every few days. After he moved here, we had conversations about marriage and children—not necessarily with each other, but we both knew we were looking for something serious

But for the vast majority of our situationship (bleh, I hate that word), we lived across the country from each other. We’d only been on one in-person date before he’d flown back home and we’d started all this.

Given the unusual circumstances, it’s easy to see how two people with different ideas of dating and relationships could go in with such different expectations, a problem compounded by the fact that we hardly communicated about the important stuff at all in the beginning. Despite the distance early on, I would have been his girlfriend if he’d asked me. For him, the in-person stuff was too important. He couldn’t fathom the idea of starting a relationship with someone he’d spent so little time with.

I had been through a similar situation before I met him—though that one mercifully lasted only three months—and I’d wanted to avoid a situationship-type…well, situation. It’s hard being heartbroken and feeling like you don’t deserve to feel that way because it’s not like he was your boyfriend or something. Honestly though, after you spend so much time getting to know someone and investing in them emotionally, do the labels even matter anymore? It wasn’t two or three dates, it was 14 months! 14 months that included vulnerability and intimacy and so many deep conversations and wonderful memories.

The thing is, despite this post and the others I’ve written about my breakup, I’ve actually been doing shockingly great this past month. I started this blog, finished the second draft of my manuscript, got even closer with my family, read lots of great books, started practicing Stoicism, meditating and journaling regularly, etc. I spend the vast majority of my days thinking about these things, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t think about him, too.

I’ve gotten better (though not perfect) at not assigning emotion to these thoughts. If I think of a conversation we had in the past, I try to push it out of my head and refocus rather than dwelling on what he said or what I should have said. I’m okay having these thoughts because they’re normal and with time, there’ll be fewer and fewer until one day I won’t think of him at all. I’m also thankful that they don’t overwhelm me to the point that they incapacitate me and prevent me from being productive or being happy. Honestly, I’m proud of the healthy way I’m processing this situation and these thoughts.

But there are also thoughts I’m not so proud of. I listened to a podcast about breakups on This American Life today, and a writer who’d just gone through her own breakup talked about songs that have to do with heartbreak. There’s this one particularly pathetic genre exemplified perfectly by Dusty Springfield’s, “You don’t have to say you love me.” These are the sort of songs that make the singer sound like they don’t have any sense of self-worth or dignity at all, but you can’t stop listening because they’re saying all the things that you feel deep down. The things you’re too ashamed to admit out loud.

My feelings change day to day. Sometimes I think about how much I care about him and just want him to be happy, even if it’s with someone else. Other times (maybe even later in that same day), I’ll think he’s a jerk for playing with my emotions and wasting my time. It’s in moments like this that I have to contend with other thoughts that are so pathetic I’m ashamed to admit them:

I secretly hope he’ll realize he made a mistake
Every time I get a text or a phone call, there’s a part of me that wants it to be him
That if he asked me today to be with him, I would (without even hesitating)
That I hope things won’t work out with the girl he chose over me
I fantasize that one day we’ll meet up and I’ll be doing so well, he’ll realize he made a huge mistake

I hate admitting that these thoughts exist, because they’re so petty and I don’t want to think them. There’s always a sense of shame that accompanies them and a whole lot of confusion. I want him to still be in my life, but I also never want to see him again. I want him to be happy, but I also don’t want him to be happy. Somehow, both of these contrasting statements can be true, depending on the day.

Maybe it’s important to accept these ugly feelings, too. Sometimes, as I make progress towards my happiness, I feel like I’m brushing a shiny coat of paint onto an uneven, broken foundation. I’ve never shied away from feelings that made me sad or angry, but shame is a harder thing to handle. It takes the focus off what the other person’s done to you and shines a bright spotlight on what you’re doing to others and even yourself.

The fact is, these are my feelings. They’re not the feelings I want to have. When I look at them all written out like that, I don’t see my anger and disappointment and sadness towards him but towards myself. My need for him to forsake her and be with me has more to do with the hole I want to fill in my life for companionship and acceptance than my actual desire to be with him. It reminds me of this quote from Yogi Bhajan:

“If you are willing to look at another person’s behavior towards you as a reflection of the state of their relationship with themselves rather than a statement about your value as a person, then you will, over a period of time cease to react at all.“

I’m not sure what the conclusion is here or even if there is one. I wish there was a lesson or way forward I could offer you, but I’m still trying to work it out myself. I do think, however, feeling these things doesn’t make you a bad person. It’s far more likely that you’re just hurting, and accepting that these feelings are there and that they’re normal, seems like a good first step as any.

When Kindness Isn’t Kind

I’ve always prided myself on being a good person. That means saying “please” and “thank you” to servers, being amiable when I meet new people, helping an old person reach something on the top shelf at the grocery store, spending hours making a homemade card for a friend, the list goes on.

One area of my life where that kindness hasn’t always translated into the best results for me is dating. Here are just some of the things my niceness made me do:

Go on an extra date with someone I did’t feel a spark with because the thought of rejecting them made me feel too guilty
Stay way too long on dates where I wasn’t enjoying myself
Not date other people while I was seeing someone I wasn’t exclusive with because I thought they would be hurt if they found out (even though they were doing the exact same thing)
Constantly rearrange or cut my own plans short so I could accommodate someone else’s schedule
Spend time and money planning surprises and gifts for men who would eventually tell me they’d fallen in love with someone else

At this point you’re thinking, that’s not being nice…that’s being a total doormat! And yes, I was absolutely a doormat, but it took some time and distance to see that.

This is the thing about kindness, you’re not really being kind if you’re hurting someone, and in all these situations I was hurting someone: me.

I was all too willing to put my own needs and desires on the back-burner. I did everything I could to make the other person in the situation happy, even at the expense of my own happiness. When I got upset that someone I was seeing didn’t communicate with me enough between dates, I swallowed my own disappointment, I reasoned that he had a much more demanding job than me and didn’t have as much time to text, I convinced myself I was unreasonable to expect more from him. (P.S. It’s interesting how all those people who claim to be bad texters magically find the time to text the girls they like).

I don’t know when I convinced myself that speaking up about what I want isn’t “nice,” but I wasn’t doing anyone any favors with that attitude. Eventually all my resentment would boil over, and I’d get frustrated with someone for not doing the thing I’d never asked them to do in the first place. Sure, in many of those situations they probably knew better, but in some of them they didn’t. By the point I confessed all the things I was unhappy about, it would often be too late. They were all ready to move on, but we would both sit there for a bit wondering what would have happened if I’d just been up front about everything from the get-go.

If I’m being very honest, my acts of kindness weren’t always motivated solely by my need to brighten someone’s day. That was definitely part of it, but it was also because I wanted people to like me. That’s why I shipped my ex’s favorite cookies to him across the country and set up a whole spa in my apartment complete with my very own proprietary spa water and diced fruit to help him relax when he was stressed from work. As it turns out, if someone isn’t investing in you, doing this kind of stuff isn’t going to make them like you more. They’re going to keep treating you the exact same way, and now they’ll know that no matter how little they give, you’re still going to spoil them with your time and affection.

Whenever a man I was dating would choose someone else, I would always wonder what the other woman gave him that I couldn’t. I mean, here I was leaping at every chance I could to accommodate his time, protect his feelings, do nice things for him, go out of my way trying to figure out how I could make our time together more special. What else could this other woman possibly be doing??

I’m pretty sure the answer is, she wasn’t doing any of that stuff. I’m guessing she was honest about her needs, and she didn’t invest 110% into someone who was only giving her 20%. She made it clear with her words and actions that they’d have to start giving more if they wanted to get more.

So if I can impart some hard-earned wisdom to you it’s this: asking for what you want doesn’t make you less nice. Expecting someone to treat you with the same respect you give them doesn’t make you less nice. Putting yourself first doesn’t make you less nice.

You can still be a good person and get everything you want. So, let’s all start being a little kinder, first and foremost, to ourselves.

You Can Always Come Home

The American singer Alan Jackson once sang:

You can always come home
Wherever life’s road leads
You can get back
To a love that’s strong and free
You’ll never be alone
In your heart there’s still a place
No matter how right or wrong you’ve gone
You can always come home

As an introvert, I’ve always thought I was pretty good at navigating my alone time, especially during the pandemic. I was able to fill up my days with solo activities and discover new ways to keep myself occupied at home, even impressing friends and family who would ask with curiosity and a little bit of awe, “How do you not get bored being alone all the time?”

Admittedly, that alone time got a little harder to navigate after I went separate ways with the last person I dated. I was still mostly okay, but there were times—laying in bed at night or when my mind began to wander—that I’d feel it. That tiny but potent ache, the one that made me yearn to be held, to be with someone who made me feel warm and safe, to be taken care of.

This past Friday, my older sister came to pick me up so we could drive to my parents’ house for the holidays. Though I talk to my family almost every day, it had been a few months since I’d seen them or been home. I was looking forward to being reunited with everyone, but I also felt a faint sense of dread as we set off. It was the first time I’d be back home since things ended with my ex. I worried that if my mother made comments about me settling down or if I didn’t have my usual activities to distract me, it would make me think of him and all the negative emotions I’d done such a good job of evading so far. There were so many unpredictable factors at home that I didn’t have to worry about in the safety of my apartment and daily routine.

We got home around lunchtime, and by the time we walked through the door, there were already two plates of warm, home-cooked food waiting for me and my sister. To someone who’d spent the last few weeks eating salads, microwave meals, and takeout, I couldn’t get enough. Each bite made me think of my childhood, to all the times I’d gotten home from school to find my mom bustling around the kitchen, preparing my afternoon snack.

A lot of times when I come home, I’ll get bored pretty quickly. I’ll retreat to my bedroom and watch a movie on my laptop or see if any hometown friends are available to meet up. The last few times I came home, I would keep my phone beside me, anxiously checking to see if my ex had returned a text yet.

This time, I didn’t want to retreat. I wanted to be present and soak up every good feeling. Over the weekend, we spent a lot of time together as a family. My parents sat with us in the kitchen while my sister and I tried out new recipes, we watched the snow fall outside while laughing about past memories, we spent hours video-chatting with extended family, my sister and I snuggled up together at night the way we used to when we were younger and watched cheesy television.

The thing is, when you start telling yourself a story, it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. The only thing that matters is if you believe it’s true. For a long time, the story I’ve been telling myself is that I’m alone. I don’t have a boyfriend or as big of a social circle as I’d like. Not even a roommate to keep me company during this pandemic. I was so lonely, and I was tired of being alone.

But then you have these moments that put everything back into perspective. When my mom offered up something for the umpteenth time (“Take these bananas with you,” “Do you need more paper towels?” “Here’s some cookware you can take with you.”), or my dad jumped up and got ready to drive to the store anytime we even vaguely mentioned needing something, or my sister spoiled me the way she always has since I was a baby, I was overcome by how wrong I’d been.

I’d spent months, maybe even longer, bemoaning the love I didn’t have in my life, never appreciating the love I did have. My parents and sister would call me daily, checking up on me, seeing if I needed anything, and I would brush them off so I could invest all my emotions and energy into people who didn’t invest in me at all. Despite that, their love for me never changed.

I still have a few more weeks left at home. I’ll probably get annoyed at my family a bunch of times while I’m here, but I’ll also be grateful that I get to spend this time with them. In the new year, I’ll head back to the city. I’ll take risks and push myself, experience both successes and failures, but above all I’m going to remind myself as often as I can that I will never be alone, no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise. Knowing that, I already feel a little braver in building the life I want. Everything’s easier when you have people you love in your corner, and I’m willing to bet if you take a close look at your life, you’ll find you have plenty of people in your corner, too.

Little Talks

Growing up, I was painfully shy. A friend in high school told me she thought I was snobby the first time we met, because I refused to make eye contact with her. Snobby? Moi??

To someone who was so lacking in confidence, the idea that high school me would think she was better than anyone was laughable. Striking up conversations with strangers was terrifying, even making small talk with acquaintances was a nightmare situation I did my best to avoid.

I don’t know when exactly it happened, but over the years things started to change. I realized, one day, that I could go on a date without getting nervous, answer questions in a job interview without my head going blank.

Though, even now, I wouldn’t say I’m quite on the opposite end of the scale. There are still situations that make me sweat through my best blouse: public speaking, karaoke, looking like the tin man come to life in a dance class.

In the longest study ever done on the topic, researchers discovered the one thing that most accurately predicted future happiness: the quality of our relationships.

It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor, young or old, the people who are happiest are the ones who have the most fulfilling relationships in their lives. In fact, their relationships impact all other areas of their lives, including their physical health and how many years they’ll live.

Unfortunately, more than one in five Americans report feelings of loneliness (and that was before the pandemic). As a lifelong introvert, I can definitely say I’ve spent a lot of time experiencing such feelings myself. I find myself envious of people I perceive to have more fulfilling social lives, wondering constantly how I can connect with more people.

I think this is a problem a lot of people in their 20s and 30s deal with. After you leave college, how do you make friends? Sure, you’ll probably make a few friends at work and you might get friendly with your roommates, but it’s certainly not as easy as when you were in school.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, particularly because this is something I want to work on next year. As I’ve continued to study the psychology behind happiness, I’ve seen the importance of social connections emphasized over and over again.

Sure, I have my wonderful family. I have some great best friends. I have my writing group. Yet, I still feel like my social calendar is relatively empty each week.

All big changes start with a bunch of little changes, so I decided to challenge myself. I don’t need to become best friends with everyone I meet, I just need to connect with them for a moment. So, I decided to ask everyone I came into contact with today how their day was going.

Such a small thing, right? Earlier today, I had a a checkup at the fertility clinic where I’ll be doing my egg freezing, so I asked the receptionist, the nurse who drew my blood, the doctor. Everyone’s smile grew a little when they heard the question. Some of them told me about their days, some said it was good and then politely asked me the same question.

But my absolute favorite interaction? The one I had with my Uber driver.

Like most people, I’ll usually just give the driver a friendly greeting and then busy myself on my phone or by staring with my eyes glazed over out the window. Not today! And I’m so glad I asked, because the driver absolutely lit up when he heard the question. He said, “It’s so nice of you to ask. Nobody ever asks me anything like that. Thank you for being so sweet.”

We ended up talking about his life in Jamaica before moving to the city, his pet cockatoo who he had to give away over the summer, his mother who passed away a few years ago.

The conversation was fascinating, and it was fun! The drive passed by in a flash—certainly preferable to sitting in lonely silence—and when he dropped me off, the driver thanked me again for chatting and wished me a wonderful week ahead.

Okay, so the Uber driver and I probably won’t end up becoming best friends, but this is how friendships start, relationships develop. With something as simple as an ordinary question. And even if it doesn’t go anywhere, the happy glow from a great conversation (and your bravery in initiating it) will stay with you and the other person for hours to come.

From now on, I’m going to keep asking strangers how their day is going. I challenge you to do the same. I think we’ll all be pleasantly surprised by the big things that can come from these little actions.

The Missing Piece Meets The Big O

One of the first guided meditations I listened to after taking up the practice was about relationships.

I remember listening to the guide’s calm voice as she explained the plot of a popular picture book. As I listened, and then later read the book for myself, I was struck by the simplicity of the story and the powerful message behind it.

The book in question was Shel Silverstein’s, The Missing Piece Meets the Big O, and it goes like this:

Once upon a time, there was a missing piece.

The missing piece spent all its time waiting for someone to come find it and take it away. There were many that came along. Some did not fit at all. Some seemed like a good fit at first, but then the missing piece grew and they didn’t fit together anymore.

One day, the missing piece met someone new, that didn’t look like anyone it had met before. It didn’t have any space for a missing piece.

The missing piece told the Big O that it could not roll because it was a triangle and it had sharp edges, and the Big O told it that edges could be worn off and shapes change. The Big O left, and the missing piece found itself all alone.

But then, slowly, it began to move.

Eventually, the missing piece shaved off all its sharp edges and began to roll. It found the Big O and together, they rolled alongside each other.

The full book, which takes no longer than a minute or two to read, is filled with even more beautifully subtle messages about healthy relationships. It should be required reading for all children and adults.

It made me think about my own relationships and what I seek out in them. Back when I first listened to this meditation, I still had this idea that having a partner would be the thing that “completed me.” I depended on men to supply: my happiness, emotional support, my sense of self-worth, a social life.

Luckily, I’ve come a long way since then. I know, now, the importance of being your own, complete person. You can want a relationship, but you shouldn’t ever need one.

Sometimes, I still feel like that little triangle. There are days when my progress feels so slow or I take about ten steps backwards, and I’m certain I’ll never find myself rolling along on my own.

But the important thing is that I’m moving forward. Maybe that’s all we really need to do: take it one step, one day at a time, until there comes a time when we stop to look at our lives and realize we’re not missing any pieces at all.

Shhh

I had something of a revelation recently.

The more I learn about the psychology of happiness, the more I realize how much of our current happiness is influenced by the things that happened in the past. I had a relatively boring upbringing (much to the chagrin of this wannabe writer), so I always figured I’d escaped relatively unscathed. I have friends who were affected by parents’ divorces, distant family members, traumatic incidents, while the worst thing I’d ever experienced were some hormone-driven argument while I was going through puberty.

I don’t blame my parents for any of the decisions they made. After all, they were doing the best they could with the knowledge they had, and they did a pretty great job if I do say so myself. Still, nobody’s perfect.

Maybe this is something you can relate to if you come from a South Asian background. Maybe you can relate even if you don’t. Growing up, whenever anything “negative” happened in our family, we were told to keep it a secret. When someone lost a job, when someone was suffering from health issues, when someone was going through a hard time in their life, it was something that stayed in the family.

When grandparents died, I sometimes didn’t find out until days later. When my dad got laid off, my sister and I were told after several months. My parents’ intentions were good. They didn’t want to us to worry, they thought they could protect us from all the bad things. It didn’t matter how much time they let pass, my sister and I would still be hurt by the news, stung that they could keep something so important from us. We constantly wondered what else they were keeping from us.

When it came to our own issues, the intentions were different. My parents were scared that others would judge us or revel in our misfortune. When I was diagnosed with infertility issues, my mother admonished me when she found out I had confided the news to some close friends.

In the end, it didn’t really matter what my parents’ intentions were, because it all just served to make me view the negative events in my life as shameful. Losing my job was shameful, getting dumped was shameful, being told I might not be able to have children was shameful.

Part of me thinks that’s why I’m always striving so hard for everything in my life to be “perfect.” Anything that goes wrong, even if I have no control over it, is a dark secret that would only draw the judgement of others if they were to find out. When I find myself in these periods of life when everything doesn’t line up, my unhappiness is heightened until I find my way to a place where things look a little better from the outside.

Whenever I go against my parents’ wishes and tell my friends the secrets I’ve been so carefully guarding, it feels like a little act of rebellion. It’s exhilarating and freeing, and always comes as a surprise. My friends and loved one never judge me, only offer their support and kind words. And yet, the instincts have been ingrained so deeply inside of me that I still feel like I’m doing something wrong whenever I do it.

I don’t want to live my life with shame anymore. It’s not shameful to get laid-off or get your heart broken or to discover your body isn’t doing what it’s supposed to do. These are things that everyone experiences. It’s all just part of the motions of life. If someone judges you for these things, that’s a reflection on them, not you.

So I’m making a promise to myself. The next time I find myself hurting, I won’t keep it to myself. I’ll reach out all the people who care about me, because as it turns out, the only thing that can combat shame is love.

The First Date

When I got dumped last year, the transition back into dating wasn’t exactly the most fun time in my life. Men would ghost me, stop responding, act flaky—and this was all before even meeting. I managed to schedule a date with a foot doctor, who even picked the place and time for our date, and then called me while I was waiting for him at the bar to tell me he wouldn’t be coming. I was pretty much ready to throw in the towel, so when I chatted with a random guy a few days later to set up another date, I was prepared for it to go terribly or for him to stand me up. It ended up being one of the best first dates of my life. We continued to date for the next 14 months. until he told me he didn’t want to see me anymore last Sunday.

Today, exactly one week to the hour that I had The Talk with my ex, I went on my first date with someone else. And it was actually kind of nice?

I did question whether I should hold off on dating, but to be honest I was ready to jump back into things pretty quickly. I’m glad I did, because there’s this huge worry that I think plagues everyone when you start dating again after things end with someone you really liked. You worry you’ll never meet someone who will make you feel the same way, that there’s no one in the whole wide world who is as attractive, charming, kind, funny, as the person you lost. Deep down you know you’re being ridiculous, but the problem with dating is that the jerky, emotion-driven side of your brain takes over and that little guy does not listen to logic.

Anyway, back to the date. I tried to go in with as little expectations as possible, because high expectations have screwed me over time and time again. We met at Central Park, and spent the next few hours walking and chatting. He was nice and funny, and we had a good time together. At the end of the date, we ended up going to Trader Joe’s because we both had to buy groceries. That part of the date was kind of awkward because we would both see each other randomly around the store while shopping, but it felt weird to acknowledge the other person. So yeah, maybe not the most romantic ending but hey, for a date in the winter during a pandemic, I’d say it was a good time overall. The most promising sign was that I didn’t think of my ex even once while I was out today.

I don’t know where things will go. I told him I would send him my phone number on the app where we met so we could text. I’m not the best at reading interest in other people, but whether or not it goes anywhere, I’m really glad I put myself back out there. This date reminded me that I can feel something for other people, and that dating in general can be fun and not this horrible, draining thing, especially when you don’t invest all your emotions in someone even before meeting them.

In the past, I’d probably stop dating other people altogether and pin all my hopes on this one guy working out. Luckily, I’m a little more experienced and wiser now, so I’ll keep putting myself out there and trying to connect with others. If this continues to go somewhere, great! If it doesn’t, all I’ll have invested is a few hours in the park.

For the first time in my life, I’m dating for the enjoyment of it, rather than the fear of being alone. It’s a great feeling, and I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for me.