dating in the dark

Dating in the Dark by @suzymiller

Those first terrifying tentative steps into dating after 10 years of solid coupledom and 6 years of motherhood seem, looking back on it, like scenes from an old black and white comedy. Not just any old comedy either – one without any sound except the relentless plug of the piano and a plot line that threatened at any time to tumble from absurd humour into a heart-rending tragedy.

And the main narrative of these comedies? Dating sites and speed networking of course – de rigeur for the modern single woman, who wants a wider choice than that offered by the beer soaked local hostelries or the few loan single men brave enough (and smart enough, if they want a ratio of 10 women to 1 man) to Salsa in the village hall. Keeping those delights as part of my ‘social’ life, I took those first bold steps into actual concerted dating via the enticing promise of online shopping for men.

Well to tell the truth, I was harried and coerced into it – having had enormous fun helping my friend create her profile and do pick and mix online, it was only right that I created my own profile and dived in. It all made good sense – using the search facility to avoid guys who are smokers or not interested in children, or who in any way contravene the ‘non negotiables’ list we all need to write for ourselves and stick up on the fridge so we never forget them.

But then there were those horrible gaps when no-one responds, those endless profiles that all begin to sound the same – it was great for reminding me that dating should be a game, fun and involve large doses of humour, but when it came to wanting to seek out a long term life partner it just seemed strangely like taking the long way round.

I’ve attempted to Salsa with men half my height, counselled drunken suitors in the local pub, snogged a lovely man at a bus stop thinking “my god I’m 40 what if someone sees me?” and then remembered that these are things I didn’t do enough of when I was 20. Dating sites led to many conversations but only a couple of dates, mainly because of fear and finding too many things wrong about someone by just reading their profile, and being in too much of a hurry.

So I’m beginning to think about the old fashioned way – matchmaking. And I guess that is what a modern dating agency provides. The cost initially put me off, but then I reasoned that a man looking for a relationship rather than just a distraction, is more likely to put his hand in his pocket, so why shouldn’t I?

The old silent film of relationships going in circles has come to the end of the reel, and now I feel ready for the quirky romantic comedy, in full technicolor and the promise of a happy ending.

So it’s no-more supermarket shopping for men for me. Spending my summer evenings instead down the allotment sowing seeds, enjoying the sunsets and remembering to water occasionally. And wondering if perhaps, by signing up with a dating agency complete with proper interviews and, most importantly, real human beings to support the process and give advice rather than just `dating tips’ on a website, I may find myself not weeding alone in the future. Still fancy snogging at the bus stop though.

Suzy Miller is the creator and producer of the Starting Over Shows which provide information and inspiration to people dealing with life changing situations such as divorce and relationship breakdown.

This blog is also posted on the Dateline Platinum website – see blog and comments here……

Without resort to a doctor

A diary entry from 2008 which is as pertinent on this day in 2009 as it was back then……

I wrote in 2008 to a friend “We let our romance die without resort to a single doctor. Let’s not make the same mistake with our friendship”.

One of the most shocking realisations post breakup can be that even if you strive for a healthy post relationship amicability, their can be little encouragement from outside forces. “Just let go and don’t invite contact”; or “don’t you think you are being a bit controlling? Why do you `need’ to stay friends?”; or even “isn’t staying friends with your ex a bit weird? After what they did to you?”

And there is the crux of it. Who did what to who – a determined mission to apportion blame, is a natural pursuit of the media, society at large and even your best friends. So striving to form a friendship with your ex, especially if the break up circumstances were morally unpleasant, can be quite disturbing to others. Just because you may have made the leap of understanding that blame,whether before the divorce judge or before your bedroom mirror, becomes an irrelevance, others can be uncomfortable, even downright threatened, by such an absurd need to be `friends’ despite it all.

Yet who of us has not had friendships that somehow withstood disagreements, long distances and even betrayal? Even if we need to create some distance for a time, love of any kind is too precious to be left out in the cold for too long.

The key to it all, for me, is accepting three facts:

1/ The old relationship must be allowed to pass. Some may laugh at Shamanic rituals of burying the wedding dress on the top of a mountain, but anything that helps you let go and move on is a gift.

2/ Understanding that forgiveness, of yourself or others, is not required. Some things are, let’s face it, unforgivable.

3/ Not expecting an apology of any kind is also imperative to success.

With these three barriers cast aside, suddenly the possibility of a brand new relationship becomes possible. OK, it may not have the trust and familiarity of your original relationship, but time truly can work miracles, especially if you have understood that people who are afraid, unhappy or under great pressure, will not always behave like angels. Understanding your own humanity and weaknesses opens up your eyes to seeing clearly the humanity and weaknesses of others, in a non-judgemental way – even those who have really hurt you. And accepting your own part in the dance, with humility rather than shame. Then apology becomes a gift rather than a justification for the other persons moral high ground.

And when the break up is without rancour and spite? Even more reason to `stay friends’, yet just as difficult. Ending one relationship and beginning another (for that is what is involved) can benefit from skilled advice. There are relationship `doctors’ out there who can see the patterns of behaviour, spot the scripting that we have of how we see ourselves and what we believe is possible of ourselves and others. They can help us see our relationships from another country, another planet even, until we begin to see that by changing our expectations, and asking the right questions, an `impossible relationship’ can become a supportive one. Those of us who have experienced parenting classes, or been through personal self development, will know first hand the miracles that can occur if only we allow them to happen.

When I am ill, I rarely visit my GP, but search out my own remedies, or seek help from like-minded healers who will get to the root of my sickness and help me to create my own cure. I hope I can find the courage to protect the special friendship I have with my current `ex’, by finding a relationship doctor who will help us to move away from one relationship and create a new one, through letting go, accepting ourselves for all our weaknesses and foibles, and loving each other without conditions. An ideal? Why strive for anything less….

LAST NIGHT IN THE PUB….

2007

Brian was really very upset about me ending the relationship. For a while, I thought he was going to transform into a bunny-boiler. But my suggestion that he get some counselling seemed to shock him into ceasing the 3am text messages, in which he bewailed the fact that I had not given the relationship a chance.

I knew we might have different views on the subject of love when I asked him to qualify `unconditional’ – my usual barrage of `but what if’s’ resulted in Brian re-qualifying his answers to such an extent that he defined no less than three different versions of `unconditional love’. Personally, I believe that there is only one kind.

When my kids’ father left us over 3 years ago, and was in a state of depression and numb confusion, I remember telling him that the children still love him, and will always love him. Nothing he does – infidelity, dishonesty, self-destructive incompetence – was of any concern to three young children under 8 years of age. I wanted him to hang on tight to that realisation because I knew it was the only thing that might reduce some of the effects of his guilt, and encourage him to make his role as father the bedrock of his emotional rehabilitation.

It’s one thing to have your partner leave you, but to disappear and leave behind his children held far greater terror for me. A cruelty to the children that I would feel responsible for, and had to do everything I could to prevent. Our children’s unconditional love at this time was both a source of deep pain, knowing we had failed them, and also the only distant light of hope in a strange, dark new world.

It was not the only time that I had to face the fact that the man I had fallen in love with, was not truly in love with me. A recent year long relationship had ceased – the first since my children’s father had left – and before going out with Brian I was cheesed off and angry that my previous boyfriend could be so foolish not to appreciate how lucky he was to have my love on offer. I was uncomfortable with the fact that yet another man could be offered so much – all that I had to give – and yet turn it down.

So I had a pretty good idea of what Brian would be going through when I made a complete hash of breaking up our two month-old relationship, because I knew that something was `missing’ in the relationship and didn’t believe I would ever find that missing thing, whatever that thing was.

I made things even worse by telling him that I knew all about how he felt and gave seasoned advice on how he would avoid unnecessary pain by staying away from me, giving himself time to grieve for the relationship before starting a new relationship as friends, maybe even going out with someone else. I’m surprised I didn’t get a smack in the mouth.

So what is Brian doing that is so different to how I reacted when I snatched back my heart and went into a woeful sulk? It was the three pints of Guinness I drank last night with my previous boyfriend that made it all come clear. Having given up on trying to continue the friendship we had and `moving on’ – or sleeping with someone else, which often comes to the same thing – we can now manage small doses of each other and for my part, there is great relief in that we have become almost like strangers. Now we can start again being mates and, so long as I do not peer too long into his eyes lest I fall in, I can even manage to get mildly drunk and know that I will still go home alone. A major achievement, I can tell you.

I used to think that if you love someone then you will accept anything – even the fact that they do not see you as their sole mate. And you offer them yourself as second best, and pretend that you can deal with it because you love them. But what kind of a gift of love is that? “Ok, I love you SO much that I will take up space in your life meant for the woman of your dreams (who according to you is not me) and sleep in your bed, drive away loneliness and make sure you have someone on your arm so you are not the only one of your mates without a girlfriend, and all the while I shall be ruining the opportunity for you to go and find what you truly do want in a sole mate, and discover that special love. I shall effectively sabotage your future life just because you have been misguided enough not to realise that the person you seek should be ME…..”

These days, that all sounds to me like neediness, selfishness even. It certainly doesn’t sound much like love.

My interpretation of unconditional love is the letting go thing. You know – if you really love them, you let them go. Well, like most of these old sayings, it’s true. It’s also very liberating, to know that you can go on loving someone forever even when they are not the person who will become your life partner. But the one person I cannot explain this to, is Brian. He’s still too lost in his own emotions and anger at not being allowed to give what he wants to give. But if he really does feel what he says he feels, hopefully he’ll learn to let go and allow love to fill our future friendship, and not use it as a weapon of guilt.

The only reason I feel optimistic that he will not end up stalking me but will finally understand what `unconditional’ really means, is because, like me, he has children. It’s one of the most important lessons they teach you. I still have a long way to go to be quite as good at it as my kids are, but I reckon I should get plenty of practice over the next few years.

Being left behind…..

2006

One minute we were having a `girl to girl’ secretive conversation in the bathroom so the boys wouldn’t hear, and the next, my 9 year old daughter was in floods of tears. Finally, I had decided to give her an answer to the constant question: “So, Mummy, do you have a boyfriend yet?”

I had managed to have a year long relationship (recently ended) without the kids having a whiff of what was going on. They suffered enough when my 10 year relationship with their dad ended, why should they live through any more of my mistakes. I like to keep things separate.

But this new chap, (let’s call him Brian), had managed to infiltrate his way into the family with amazing dexterity. He had already swopped DVD’s with my children, giving them some of his kids’ films to watch in return and spare clothes from his youngest son were currently being sported by my 7 year old. My daughter was not fooled – she could see something was going down.

I had decided to confide in her. The boys were not included only because I was afraid of the implications of me coming out the cupboard about having a `boyfriend’. I knew that the kids were so keen to have a full time father that I didn’t want to give them false hopes. I rarely have `girl’s talk’ with my daughter –something else I must work on – and she seemed excited to share this secret with me and old enough to accept that this was a new relationship and that we were not yet `in love’.

But suddenly, here she was, in floods of tears as I stood by bemused. She began to blurt out past events, rewinding the clock back almost three years to the day when her father had left. I was shocked and confused at the meteoric mood change and bewildered by how me having a boyfriend could trigger her most painful memories.

“I remember you crying when Daddy left” she blubbed. “And when we woke up in the morning he wasn’t there in bed when we came in to cuddle him.” I comforted her, still searching for a logical connection that would give me a handle on this situation. This was the first time in three years that she had opened up some of her pain and let it out so directly. I waited.

“I don’t want anyone to leave us again” she explained, and it was all suddenly so obvious that I felt angry at myself for not having seen it all before. I realised that despite spending three years telling all three children that their daddy left me, not them, the sense of abandonment was so strong that the fear of it happening again was as alive as it had ever been. Once again, I felt the guilt of having brought them into the world into a relationship that had not been strong enough to give them what they deserved – life long security as part of the package of feeling loved.

I reminded her of how daddy never left her but continues to see her every week and loves his children very much and she put on a brave face but I knew that the hurt went too deep to be fobbed off by my attempts to console her. What I had interpreted on the surface as a childlike longing for both parents to live at home, had been exposed to be three years of fear of abandonment that she could carry forward into adult life intact, a gift from both her parents. I wondered what crept into the dreams of my two sons, who had also seemed to cope so well with the family break up, as they sunk into sleep each night. Knowing you are loved by both your parents is one thing, feeling that they will never desert you is quite another.

We carried on the bedtime routine and I sung them all songs and hugged them all tight. That night I told `B’ that I would not be joining him with his kids at a family party he had invited me to – it was too early. My children will never act as barriers to my future happiness (far from it), but just because I am human and will make mistakes in the future as I have done in the past, the potential for making mistakes that will impact on them is on my mind. So there is a tightrope to be walked. Allowing new potential relationships to blossom, yet at the same time, acknowledging that just a little more thought, time, and ruthless honesty with how I grow those new relationships could make all the difference. It could affect the kind of relationships my children seek out for themselves in the future.

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