He Is Not The One

You are standing in the airport lobby, fists balled at your sides alongside your luggage, smarting with fury and disappointment. The hubbub around you is a blur as you grind your teeth and hold back hot tears, wrenched from your own stupidity and the damning futility of having dared to believe.

You just got dumped.

He had invited you to stay the weekend, a few months after you had met one hazy, late summer weekend in Nantucket. You bought a plane ticket, some new clothes and you fell hook line and sinker into that dangerous playground of hope and anticipation.

And why not? There were sparks. You had connected, could talk for hours on the phone.

So off you flew, into the lair.

The first 24 hours were divine. But it slowly nosedived from there. Then he dumped you.

It’s me not you and all that.

And here you are, among the faceless travelers rushing from A to B, seething with disappointment. At first, rage at him for being so spineless, for not being brave enough to take you on.

There, in front of the Delta check-in desk, you fought the self-loathing, targeted squarely at your pathetic foolishness, such an infantile romantic. The sheer stupidity of daring to think that he might be the one. Dumbass.

You loved someone before and he didn’t love you back. Didn’t you learn from that experience? At least he didn’t give you pause to hope. His was love cloaked in friendship. But it hurt.

This time around, it felt like you had due cause to let hope in. But you were wrong, and you were wronged. Stupid, stupid you.

He is not the one.

(You don’t know it now – as you take a deep gulp, pick up your bags and your self-esteem, and board the flight home – but The Real One, well he’s actually waiting in the wings. Give it a few weeks, and you’ll see.)

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Guest Post: My Sister’s Secret

by Gabriel McGarry

My sister has a secret! And I will tell you!

My sister is awesome.

She is awesome because…  She plays with me and follows me.

So I will tell you how to be awesome.

Be nice help your  friends

And kids you don`t know. And make new friends.

If  a kid was lonely go to him and talk to him.  And you made a new friend!

Gabriel McGarry is 8 years old. He likes cats, nature and Transformers.


Guest Post: Are You My Mother?

Recently, a new friend said to me, “It wasn’t always like this, but now my mother is my best friend.”  I thought, “Wow, I love my mom, but that is not how I would describe our relationship.”

Not a day later, another friend plaintively asked, “How do I keep from turning into my grandmother?” … who was bitter and lonely at the end of her life. 

The proximity of these two comments has me thinking about the spectrum of mother-daughter closeness and where I would like to be, both with my mother and my two daughters. I recognize that it takes intention, and a lot of years, and that individual personalities will have some effect as well, but I am determined.

Then I hesitate. I love my mom and I know she loves me, but tends towards negativity and has trouble expressing affection. So how do I do everything completely differently without invalidating the good aspects of my memories of childhood and my solid, if not best-friend-close relationship with her now? I know she worked hard to be a more fun and supportive mom than her mom was – so who am I to criticize? But I still have issues.

The question from my friend about not turning into her grandmother actually prompted the best answer for me. I told her I think you have to be someone who doesn’t judge. It has been my overriding interpersonal goal lately to not judge. It is a difficult practice and, as with yoga, Buddhism, or anything worth improving, perfection is likely elusive.

The effort, however, has already had a profound affect on my relationship with my mom. I’ve started gently calling her on negative comments, and pushing back, actually telling her that it hurts my feelings when she makes judging comments about me. I have noticed a change in the way that she approaches our discussions and, with consistency, there seems to be an actual decrease in negativity as she learns the new rules. This approach applies to so many mother-daughter discussions. When she tries to engage me in a discussion of my cousin’s baby weight gain, I firmly refuse to discuss it.  When she makes an observation about my daughters’ eating habits – food and body image issues being one of the sorest of the sore spots – I remind her that I’m their mom and that it is none of her business. When she says things like, “Oh, I just want your sister to settle down and find a nice man to marry and move back here so she can be happy,” I gently point out that she may be perfectly happy living a social single life.

Now, how will this improve my relationship with my own daughters? Well, I work on not being a parent that kills self-confidence with judging comments. I try to catch myself before I say, “That was good but you can do better,” if I can. Or before I override their decisions. 

More importantly though, I am practicing not judging myself, probably the hardest part, especially growing up with lots of “That’s great, but …” I know that in order to foster a more loving and durable relationship with my daughters, I need to model loving myself and not worry too much about what the neighbors think of my messy house.

Erika Jerram is an urban planner for the Town of Framingham.  She is also the mom of two amazing girls ages 7 and 2, who astound her daily with their capacity for curiosity, humor, and sheer self-confidence.  Erika’s days are filled with seeking that mystical place known as “Work Life Balance” and housework usually loses the battle for her attention. She works at not judging people and not sweating the small stuff and her relationship with her Mom is stronger now than it ever was.

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The Secret to a Happy Marriage

This week, Devin and I celebrated our ten-year anniversary. Wow! Ten years.

When I said “I do,” to him back on April 25, 2002, it was with the conviction that I had found someone who matched me. I knew that being married to this guy would be fun. Of course, it would have its share of ups and downs, like any marriage. Naturally we’d bitch and moan at each other along the way. I knew there would be many things I’d do and say that would bug him – and that there would be many, many (did I say many ?) things he’d do that would seriously nark me. And then there would be all the other regular stuff that would interfere, sneak up, challenge, or freak us out. Like pets, work, no work, children, money, mortgage, fridges, religion, family, schedules and all that.

Of course we love each other. That’s a given. But the secret to what has kept this union sound, light-hearted, reasonable and fun is ….. silliness.

Very early on, I realized that Devin is as silly as I am. What clicked between us – and which has endured through ten years of marriage – is our very natural way of not taking ourselves too seriously. Once when we were dating, he gave me a copy of Dr Seuss’ Cat in the Hat, with his own silly riddle hidden inside. Of late, I’ve taken to secretly doctoring his daily to-do list. Instead of saying goodbye when we speak on the phone, he’s started saying “f@*k off Frank.” No clue why, but it makes me chuckle.

Fortunately for us, our innate and combined silliness was a perfect foundation for raising children. Now we have an audience! Our kids get a huge kick out of us all being silly together – and an even bigger thrill when they watch mama and papa being silly with each other. It’s downright gleeful.

Other couples count on love, respect and teamwork to nurture their relationships. We have that too. But for us, being silly is the cherry on top!

(Post note: I looked up the definition of silly on dictionary.com and was displeased. I much prefer the definitions on Urban Dictionary, check them out!)

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