Finding Something You Love Is More Important Than Finding Someone To Love

"I know it's a cornball thing. But love is passion, obsession, someone something you can't live without. I say, fall head over heels. Find someone something you can love like crazy and who will love you the same way back. How do you find him it? Well, you forget your head and you listen to your heart. And I'm not hearing any heart. 'Cause the truth is, honey, there's no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love, well, you haven't lived a life at all. But you have to try, 'cause if you haven't tried, you haven't lived." - Anthony Hopkins on Love

That excerpt is from the father/daughter talk in the movie Meet Joe Black. In the movie Anthony Hopkins tells his onscreen daughter that her relationship with her fiancé has all the passion of a pair of titmice. Not an ounce of excitement. Not a whisper of a thrill. He wants her to get swept away. Levitate. To sing with rapture and dance like a dervish. To be deliriously happy.

Oh...and the strikeouts, those are my edits.

I edited it because I believe finding something you love is more important than finding someone to love.

(I'll pause briefly while you sigh heavily over those terribly unromantic words from me.)

Think about your life, minus any romantic relationship you may be in. Are you deliriously happy? Deeply in love? Levitating? There should be at least one THING, not a person, in your life that sets your soul on fire. One THING that makes life worth living. One THING you couldn't live without. If you can't easily name that thing, you need to find it!

When I was 18, I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. Most 18-year-olds don't. Although my problem wasn't that none of the college majors interested me. It was that I was interested in almost all of them! I had trouble deciding on only one. So I double majored. And even then I considered switching majors twice just before graduation. Needless to say, this drove my parents crazy! But that's how I've been since I was a little kid. Not indecisive. Overly passionate. About so many things!

Passion is one of those words that gets tossed around a lot. Ask a dictionary to define passion and it will say it's a strong and barely controllable emotion. Ask me to define love and I would say it's a strong and uncontrollable emotion.

On the surface, passion and love seem rather similar. But look closer and you'll see one huge difference!

Romantic love often changes and is fleeting. But a true passion in life is constant and everlasting. That is why finding something you love is more important than finding someone to love. It's love that's stable. It's been there since birth and chances are you've been chasing it ever since.

Finding something you love isn't just about filling your time. It's about filling your heart. Making yourself feel complete and happy all on your own. Satisfied to the point where if you never do find someone to love, that your life won't ever feel empty. That you found your life's purpose. Find that one thing that makes you deliriously happy. Levitate.

Dare To Be Ridiculous

"Appreciate the gift in exquisite detail, turn it over in your mind like a treasure unexpected. Let yourself be overcome by the miracle of it, that you stumbled on something divine in human form, and took it all the way into your heart. Go ahead, be ridiculous. Let the smallest thing mean everything. Forget about being rational and classifying this experience in any particular category. You’ll miss out on something amazing if you do that, and trust me, you don’t want to miss it." - Jen Lemem on Love

I stumbled upon Jen's blog recently and read an entry in which she admitted that she falls in love over and over again and didn't realize that NOT falling in love was one of her options. She then challenged someone to write a post for her about how NOT to fall in love since she said she clearly had no idea how to do that. So as someone who doesn't fall in love easily or often, I was quick to accept her challenge. And then I remembered that the last time I told myself I wasn't going to fall in love (or even develop the smallest of feelings), I fell hard.

It's a given. Love turns you into a crazy person. I'm a firm believer that those who have never felt crazy have never been in love. Love will have you thinking irrationally, speaking irrationally, and doing irrational things.

"David, slow down. Break it off. Be realistic here. THINK!" That is what my inner voice says to me. First as a soft whisper. Then as a stern talking to. And finally it turns to boisterous yelling!

There is no other area in my entrepreneurial life where I would ever listen to my inner voice telling me to "be realistic." So why in the world would I entertain the thought of "realistic" when it comes to love! But I do. And chances are you do too. The good news is that love won't permit it. Love silences that inner voice because love doesn't like sensible. Love loves ridiculous! Be thankful that it does because otherwise you would miss out on something amazing. And trust us when we say, you don't want to miss it.

You have to take chances in life - in everything from business to love. You have to put yourself out there and do something that scares you. Something that doesn't fully make sense, even to you! You have to say "I know this is ridiculous, but I want to see what happens."

And what's so wrong about being ridiculous anyway? Some of my best mistakes came from me being ridiculous. That's right. I said MY BEST MISTAKES.

So go ahead. Dare to fall in love. With someone else, with your yourself, with your work, with your wildest dreams. Dare to be ridiculous.

I'm Not Ready For A Baby

Everyone knows that males mature slower than females. Even into adulthood, it's said that a man's maturity level is 5 years less than his actual age. Women reach full (mental/emotional) maturity at age 25. But men don't reach full (mental/emotional) maturity until age 30, or would that actually be 35? I don't know. I just know that fart noises are still funny to me and probably will be for some time. So when it comes to dating, a good rule of thumb is for women to date a few years older and for men to date a few years younger.

Nevertheless, by the time you enter your late 20s things start to change. One night stands and random hook-ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. And girls you once dated are now announcing their engagements! If I learned anything from grade school it's that first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby carriage. While marriage at this point in my life is still somewhat frightening to me, it's nowhere near as terrifying as having a baby! Just typing that four letter curse word, baby, causes a little bit of pee to trickle down my leg.

I feel for women because they have a problem men don't have - a shortage of time. I know as women enter their late 20s their biological clock is tic-toking away. And many start feeling the pressure from family and friends to snag a guy, settle down and have that baby. Of course most guys in their age demographic are too busy giggling over farting noises to hear (or care) the tic-toking of her biological clock. And there lies the problem. People are often in different chapters of their life. So for people to assume you are ready and willing to start a certain phase of your life just because you "hit that average age" seems rather presumptuous and kind of rude. They fail to consider where you are in life or what you want out of life. And most importantly, what precedence (if any) will marriage, kids and career play in your life.

The truth is I don't know if marriage and kids are for me. Some day I would like to think so, especially since that is what society tells me is part of a full life. But for now, neither interest me. I'm currently married to my business. My Bulldog is my son. And I feel full.

Sometimes verbalizing what you want, or don't want, isn't enough. Sometimes you have to show people as well. I think I do a good job at being upfront and clear about my intentions, or lack thereof, but apparently my date the other night would disagree. Because despite my best efforts to make it perfectly clear I am in no way interested in anything even remotely serious, she had baby agenda on the brain! Babies are pretty much the only thing she talked about all night. So much so that the only way I could fake interest in the baby conversation is if I imagined the funny farting noise a baby sometimes makes. Or calculating how much further she would need to lean across our table in that dress before a nip slip would occur.

I bought a car with a backseat so small it is virtually useless for a reason. The reason - to send a subliminal message to every woman I date that I don't want any bald, toothless midgets in my near future. I hate family friendly restaurants, PG movies and ponies. I like my music loud and sexually explicit. I go out late. I don't come home early. And I WILL NOT sell my motorcycle!

I own a house, but that doesn't mean I want to start a family. It's more like a glorified bachelor pad and I plan on keeping it that way. It's not baby proof and that's how I like it. There's pointy edged furniture and hardwood floors, neither which are conducive to crawling but both are conducive to cranium cracking. I keep my water tank heater high enough to scold skin and I have a brick fireplace that contains REAL FIRE! If the risk of melting flesh isn't enough of a baby deterrent, let me also point out the section of open staircase without any railing. My leather couch did not come with a guarantee that it can withstand some dirty little monkey's soiled britches or that it's baby puke resistant. There's a wine cabinet at "kid cereal isle" eye-level and a empty shot glass from last night sitting by the sugar bowl. I keep my sharp knives on the edge of the kitchen counter. I purchase medicine without childproof caps. And stocked are a slew of poisons that are all easily accessible from various low level cabinets throughout the house.

After a shower, I've been known to walk around in only a towel for an extended period of time and on Monday nights I run with scissors (not at the same time though). I've eaten popcorn solely for dinner and once I drank myself to sleep. Candy has never fallen out of my pockets, but condoms have. I enjoy saying fuck out loud, hanging out with inappropriately dressed women and there may even be a porno left in the DVD player. Simply put - I'm not currently Dad of The Year material.

But despite my best efforts to not only tell her, but to also show her I'm not in that "baby stage" of my life yet by giving her a tour of my crib, it falls on deaf ears and blind eyes. She continues on and all I can think about is how I wish there was less talking and more sex. For a brief moment, I consider inviting her upstairs. Then I remember that's how babies are made. And I'm not ready for a baby. So I drive her home instead. And I write this post.

Respecting Silence

I wrote this a week ago, saved it to draft, and never hit publish. Scared to let anyone read it. Ashamed of what I'm STILL doing/feeling and afraid of what all of you will think of me. Names like "pussy" or "psycho." Phrases like "holy shit dude let go already!" (All valid responses I might add.) So this past Sunday night, I deleted the post. And this week I realized what a hypocrite I am. I tell people that the posts you are most scared to write and push publish on are the ones that resonate most with readers! And they are the ones that help you grow as a writer and as a person. So if I'm going to preach that, I better live it myself. That's why I decided to rewrite this post and push publish. As they say on TMF Project, "FEAR EXPOSED!"

When she stumbles, my chest crumbles for her. When she's struggling, I want to help. When she's hurting, I want to hug. And when she's succeeding, I want to celebrate her by dancing on the nearest table and screaming "FUCK YEAH!" while popping champagne.

That morning I said a little prayer for her, sent her good thoughts. Or as some poetically refer to it - sent her light and love. Just like I did on the morning of March 29th. Just like I did on the morning of her birthday, on Christmas Eve, New Year's Eve, and even back on Valentine's Day.

But here's the thing. I don't pray. At all. For anyone, including myself.

Yet even to this day, I ask some greater power to rain smiles down on her in everything she does and everywhere she goes. It's as if my God appointed duty on this Earth is to make sure her heart feels full, regardless if I'm in it. And that her life is happy and blessed, regardless of who she invites in it. That I am to make certain she's content, all the while adhering to the difficult rule of respecting silence. If there is a God, perhaps that is his test for me? To let love liberate my soul.

So I stay to the back and off to the side while she takes center stage. Keeping my distance and keeping my mouth shut, respecting her wishes. Silently cheering and supporting. And sending light and love. Does it work? Does it even reach her? Does she even care to know I do this? I don't know. I do know that not admitting it doesn't make it any less true. I also know that respecting silence is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do!

I'm good at telling myself things. Like long ago when everyone around me said I was falling in love, I denied it, to them and to myself. I wanted to be in control of my emotions when it started. I wanted to be in control of my emotions when it ended too. And I attempted to do so by setting personal deadlines for how long I would permit myself to grieve...

Come tomorrow I'll be ok.
Come next week I'll be ok.
Come next month I'll be ok.
By New Years I'll be ok.

These deadlines would come and go. The pain would lessen with each passing day and I no longer had to tell myself the "I'll be ok" lie. I actually felt ok, at last! Then the package came in the mail. The one I sort of forgot would soon arrive (or tried blocking out of my mind). The one I had prepared for long ago by telling myself I would be totally fine by the time that day rolled around. Again, I lied. I told myself I could open it. I would be ok. But slicing through the first few inches of packaging tape was like slicing open an old wound. While I was incredibly proud and happy FOR her, I felt incredibly sad inside and even angry I couldn't share the joy WITH her. It's then I realized maybe I'm not ok after all. Close, 99.9% there. But that remaining .1% disgusts me. I disgust me! So I stop opening the package and slide it gentley under my bed, telling myself..."Come tomorrow I'll be ok."

Respecting silence isn't just about respecting the "quiet space" placed between you and someone you care/cared for. It's also about respecting yourself enough to fill the "noisy space" in your head with kinder, gentler thoughts about yourself. I'm working on that second part.

- DS



***NOTE***
For the first time in this blog's 6 year existence, the comment section on this post is closed. As a reader, I'm sure you have something to say. And that's exactly my point! To demonstrate just how frustratingly difficult it is respecting silence.

Indifferent

Today is Valentine's Day. And I'm not going to write about love.

I'm indifferent to Valentine's Day this year. Not happy/excited. Not sad/depressed. Not filled with love. Not filled with hate. Just indifferent.

Nearly every February 14th since I was 14, I've had a girlfriend. I recently realized that I've been with someone more than I've been on my own. And I don't know if I'm ok with that. I like "me time." I like being Perfectly Lonely. And I rarely feel lonely when I'm alone. In fact, there have been times I've felt more lonely WITH someone than WITHOUT them. That I'm not ok with.


It seems like there's always some girl/s in the picture. The last "relationship" I was in started less than a week after my previous relationship had ended! And despite me being completely honest and upfront by saying I wasn't looking to get into anything serious, somehow feelings started to sprout up and things got messy and...well, you know how it goes.

Valentine's Day is one of those days people either love or loathe. There never seems to be an inbetween. I feel inbetween. I feel indifferent.

I never understood why girls want everyone to jump on their bandwagon. If they are in love, they want all their besties to find love too. And if they are single, they want all their besties to hate on men/love/relationships too, to despise Valentine's Day like a red-headed stepchild. (Misery loves company?) Then there are those that like to exercise their "I am woman, hear me roar" girl power to it's fullest. They proudly shout from the mountain tops that they are happy riding solo and wouldn't want it any other way. Maybe that is true for some, but I have a hard time believing that the vast majority truly feel single and fabulous. Instead, I believe they are too ashamed to admit they aren't Perfectly Lonely, but rather just lonely. Period. At least on this day.

Single guys aren't much better. They give their buddies a hard time who have girlfriends - constantly saying how much more fun they would have if they played the field more instead of being tied down to one girl. Personally, I think everyone should just leave everyone else alone. Stop pushing love. Stop pushing hate. Stop the parade. Stop the pity. Just stop.

I'm not writing anyone a love letter. I'm not sending anyone flowers. I didn't go shopping for a platinum and diamond surprise. And I didn't even make dinner reservations at any dimly lit pricey restaurant. Instead, I've given myself a gift. The gift of indifference. And it feels pretty fucking good! It feels good to no longer feel.

Yes, today is Valentine's Day and I couldn't care less. It's just another day to me. Although if you're struggling to cope today, then let this beautiful poem and video be my Valentine's Day gift to you - How To Be Alone.

Happy Valentine's Day to the single and fabulous. To the single and not feeling so fabulous. To the Perfectly Lonely. And to those who are just feeling lonely, period. David got love for ya.

Fucking Feelings!

There should be a limit to what a person can emotionally feel, similar to reaching your physical threshold of pain. A cutoff limit. A point you reach where the heart just become instantly numb, protecting itself from further hemorrhaging. An "ok that's enough now" level, like a bloody cornerman's towel being tossed into the fight ring to signal the man is done. Unfortunately for me, there is a malfunction. The alarm that is supposed to go off when all your fucking feelings start reaching dangerous toxic levels hasn't sounded. The automatic shutoff value that locks into place when it senses the brain can no longer endure such emotional trauma without rending one clinically insane has snapped. And that 10-inch thick giant concrete barrier that should be dropping into place to shield me right about now has somehow become lodged.


I am disgusted by my own emotions, overflowing months later when I should have damned up the hole by now. I mean, really. What's my problem! I'll be the first to admit it's ridiculous, pathetic and beyond embarrassing. And I feel so stupid! Sooo, sooo stupid! I'm physically strong, but emotionally weak. She makes me weak. And I'm not too proud to say it. There's no rational explanation as to why a tiny little thing that was said has stirred up a hurricane of emotion inside me. Big waves of feelings, fucking feelings, come crashing back in just when I think the storm has passed. It hits me in the chest and shallows my breath. It causes my hands to tremble and nausea begins to rock from side to side in my stomach as if I was a sailor lost at sea. Like I said, there's no rational explanation for the symptoms I'm experiencing. Well, except for one. But I don't like saying the word. And I'm working hard at convincing myself that is just a figment of my imagination. That I've blown it out of proportion and it isn't real. My own personal reality check.

When I first met her, I said to myself "this is someone I always want to have in my life." I didn't know in what form that would be, whether it be a friend or a girlfriend. I just knew my life was so much happier with her in it. I felt like a better version of myself with her around. I was funnier, smarter, more charming. I felt this connection that I never felt with anyone else before in my life! And I didn't want it to ever go away. I didn't want her to ever go away. And when she did, I just...I don't know. It's been hard. Harder than I imagined it would be. Harder than perhaps it should be. And definitely harder than what I wish it to be.

Few people in life have the gift to make me smile like she did. That is why it sucks so bad not having her around. It's like not having my smile. I don't care if she knows that. I don't care if she has that power over me. Because not admitting to something doesn't make it any less real. It doesn't weaken the fact. And living in denial certainly doesn't make pain magically disappear.

I often wonder if today we both would have been better off for not letting it go so far, if we kept messy feelings at bay. That way I could at least still have her as a friend. Now I have nothing. It feels like I'm mourning the death of a best friend more so than mending a broken heart. That is just one of the many things I miss - the mere friendship. But that's life I suppose. The heart can't always have what it wants. And sometimes what the heart wants isn't always best for it. I'm working hard on accepting that, not 100% there yet.

Feelings are SUCH a fucking nuisance! No truer words have ever been spoken. Although maybe it's not some lingering feelings that are eating away at me. Maybe it's just my new vegan diet that is talking. That would explain why I'm trapped in a glass case of emotion because my body is meat deprived. Men eat meat. I haven't been. So when you start eating like a woman, you start acting like one. Clearly, that's it. Because it can't be that other thing, right? Right?

Regardless of what it is, I want someone to throw a bloody cornerman's towel into the fight ring on my behalf so I can live to fight another day. Actually, I don't want to fight. I just want to live...without any fucking feelings.

And if I could bite into a big juicy steak, I would be pretty ok with that too.



***NOTE***
Related post of interest: 9/8/10 - You're A Grown Ass Man!

Love Liberates

When you were a child and someone at the playground said or did something mean to you, your feelings were hurt - naturally. Most of us reacted by saying or doing something mean right back. We got even. But we didn't grow. And as a result, we took that same immature playground mentality and applied it to our adult relationships. It's most prevalent after a breakup. I can't tell you how many friends have said to me "you should hate her, she's a bitch" after a breakup. Or how many times I've said the same to them after they've broken up with someone. Friends say these things to each other because they believe that's how support should be shown, rally in numbers. Take your friend's side and gang up on the "meanie" who hurt them. In our fucked up heads, we believe this shows loyalty. We believe this shows our love. But what it really shows is immaturity. It's detrimental to the healing process and it stunts emotional growth.

You're not empowering them. You're crippling them. You're telling them to replace love with anger, joy with pain. How is that helpful? How is that healing? How can you grow from that? It's not healthy. And it's flat-out wrong!

I never understood why my friends think it's in my best interest to hate someone I once deeply cared for (and maybe still do or always will care about). Why do I have to put them down just to bring myself up? Why do I have to hate them just to love myself? My friends get angry with me when I defend someone who they feel has done me wrong. They don't understand it. They think I'm being a doormat or that I refuse to let go. But that's not it at all. In fact, it's the exact opposite. I feel stronger for not hating them. I've never benefited from hate in my life. To hate someone is exhausting! But to love them (although it may be in a different capacity), that's energizing! That's freeing. That's healing. That how you facilitate growth.

Although it's easy to revert back to the playground mentality and spiral down that black hole of bitterness. Perfect example: My niece is in first grade. She's the happiest kid you've ever seen, but her face dropped recently when she told me about a boy in school that is calling her names. My immediate reaction was of course anger. I tried to block the tears that were about to flow down her chubby kid cheeks by calling the boy some names right back. "Oh don't listen to him. He's a stupid poop head and no one likes him anyways."

But before I could offer any more of my "bully advice," my Grandma chimed in. "You know what you do, Mia? When that boy calls you a mean name you just smile at him. Smile so big and so bright. You smile at him and say something nice in return, like I really like your hair today. I guarantee you it will change how he acts." Basically, she wanted her to kill him with kindness. My Grandmother has always been on another level than the rest of us. And she has always reminded me a of white Maya Angelou. The way she looks. The way she speaks. And most of all, her wisdom. Which is why I love this quote from Maya Angelou. I feel my Grandmother woven into every word.

I am grateful to have been loved and to be loved now and to be able to love, because that liberates. Love liberates. It doesn't just hold - that's ego. Love liberates. It doesn't bind. Love says..."I love you. I love you if you're in China. I love you if you're across town. I love you if you're in Harlem. I love you. I would like to be near you. I'd like to have your arms around me. I'd like to hear your voice in my ear. But that's not possible now, so I love you. Go." - Maya Angelou

Don't love hoping to be loved. Love to liberate your soul.

Workplace Romance = Career Suicide

Office sex. It’s the forbidden Argentine tango meets the deadliest game of Russian roulette. It blends excitement with danger and serves it up piping hot on a high gloss mahogany desk. Or at least that is what the pornos portray.

Office sex is a fantasy shared by millions, myself including. Unfortunately though, that’s where the fantasy should stay - in your head and not acted out. Statistics say that 4 out of 10 people have dated a colleague at some point in their careers. (I use the word "dated" loosely. For the sake of this post, the word "dated" is going to be a generalization to describe any type of unprofessional involvement with a co-worker. An emotional and/or sexual affair with a co-worker either in, or out, of the workplace.) And with the office holiday party season upon us, temptation is at an all-time high! Office holiday parties are a breeding ground for bad behavior because everyone is looking their best, cutting loose, dancing and of course drinking. It’s a deadly combo and one that your career can suffer greatly from should you fail to use your best judgment.

After college it becomes harder to meet new people and make friends. These days the average person works between 50-60 hours a week. That means people spend MORE time with their co-workers than they do with their significant other, family or friends! Spend 50-60 hours a week with ANYONE and a relationship of some kind WILL form. Now whether you keep that relationship strictly professional, turn it into a friendship or something more is completely up to you. Nearly every H.R. department prefers you find romance outside the workplace. However, if you still insist on inviting unnecessary drama into your professional life and risking your career, there’s only one rule you need to remember when it comes to office romances...

Don't.

Not clear enough? Then try this...

DON'T!!!

Still not getting the message? Then here are a 5 things you may want to consider before those harmless office flirtations spiral out of control and end up costing you your job!

1. Stop Being Lazy
Relationships take work. And finding someone worthy of entering into a relationship with often takes even more work! If you’re too lazy to find someone outside your office to be romantically or sexually involved with, then you’re too lazy to be in a relationship. It’s easy to pursue someone you work with because they’re right there working 3 cubes down! It’s convenient. Plus, you already sort of know them so it feels comfortable. You share at least one common interest with them and have plenty of friends/co-workers in common. So striking up a conversation isn’t very difficult, especially considering you could always lead with a work related question. Basically, you have a legit excuse to chat them up without appearing like you want to feel them up.

2. Welcome To Rumorville
Sometimes all it takes is a couple lunches together and buying a co-worker a drink at happy hour to get the rumors at work on Monday flying! It was because she was attractive and flirty. And because I’m a man with hormones. So to onlookers, it only made sense! Then when word got around that I was actually dating her best friend (who didn’t work there), the next rumor was "he’s doing both of them!" And that’s how rumors get started. No matter how platonic one relationship may be, and no matter how discrete you think you’re being with another not so innocent relationship, people will take notice and will jump to conclusions. Co-workers will assume the worst because it adds a little excitement in a normally mundane 9-5 grind and gives them something interesting to talk about over morning lattes with their cubemate.

3. R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Start up an office romance and see how quickly EVERYONE in the company loses respect for you! Your hard work no longer seems earned. Your opinions will be called into question and your choices will be carefully scrutinize. People will wonder if your decision making process is one based with the company’s best interests in mind, or your own. You will appear sneaky and untrustworthy. And some may become hostile toward you for bending/breaking the company’s dating policy.

4. No Escaping!
Want to talk about awkward moments, jealously flare-ups, uncomfortable board meetings, snide remarks and power fights? Then become romantically involved with a co-worker. Better yet, wait until the two of you breakup and you’re forced to see your ex EVERY SINGLE DAY, ALL DAY LONG! The office becomes an emotional prison and there’s no escape.

5. Over And Under Rule
If they're over you, they shouldn't be "over" you. If they're under you, they shouldn't be "under" you. Get what I'm saying? Simply put - it's bad enough to sleep with a co-worker who is at the same level as you, but NEVER sleep with a boss or one of your subordinates! Not only are you asking to be fired, but you may find yourself wrapped up in an ugly sexual harassment case as well.

It doesn't matter how large or how relaxed of a company you work for, engaging in a workplace romance is committing career suicide. And in today's tough job market, believe me when I say you're easily replaceable. So don't give them an easy reason to let you go. Expand your dating pool.



***SIDE NOTE***
At risk of sounding like a hypocrite, it's only fair that I mention the advice I've just given comes from my own personal experience. When you know better, you do better. While I've never engaged in an workplace romance, I did receive a BJ at work (from a girl I was dating that didn't work there) during my rookie year in the workforce. I was fresh out of college with a bit of an ego and with lots to learn. I was young, dumb and full of...

Well, I’ll just end this post on that. Lesson learned.

All According To Plan

Life is unscripted. I’m pretty sure that’s the way nature intended it to be. And I’m pretty sure it’s the way love is supposed to be. From the minute we are born, we are handed a blank manuscript. A stark, white sheet of paper with an unwritten story where the only thing you know for certain is that you’ve been given the lead role. Then within seconds and without auditioning, the first two characters have been cast to play a role in your life. Two unknowns who you know today as Mom and Dad. You are introduced to them in Act I - The Delivery Room. No lines are written. Just a small footnote stating "let them love you." And so you do.

Over time we will be introduced to a whole slew of other characters - siblings, teachers, coaches, mentors, employers, co-workers, friends and even romantic interests. All will play a role in our lives, some a more significant role than others and some relationships lasting longer than others. We don’t know ahead of time who these people will be. We just know they are meant to exist in our life script. It’s impossible to predict when they will walk into our lives or when they will walk out. How we will meet them, what they will teach us, and how they will forever change our world are mysterious as well.

I can honestly say I’ve never actively pursued love. Sure I’ve pursued girls and asked them out, but I’ve never "looked" for love. Ever. And I’ve never felt the need or desire to. Ever. I suppose this is why I never understood people who go on dating sites or ask a friend of a friend to fix them up. I don’t understand that urgency, that endless search to obtain love. I don’t understand why they don’t just let nature take it's course. Love is quite capable of walking into your life without casting it or asking it to audition for the role.

Singles hate hearing the phrase "you’ll find someone when you least expect it, when you’re not even looking." It’s the same cliché advice my Mom shelled out to my sister for years, until one day my sister stopped rolling her eyes and finally nodded her head in agreement. And it happened to me as well.

I fell in love in the very best way - unexpectedly.

It couldn’t have been a more random and unconventional way of crossing paths with someone. And it couldn’t have happened at a more emotionally unavailable time in my life, just a week into my Manwhore Relapse phase. But this post isn’t about how she unknowingly and single handedly tamed my unscrupulous sexual behavior by bringing out the caring, cuddly creature inside of me to the point where even my thick-headed friend "Scum" could clearly see I was falling in love. This post isn’t about that and isn’t about her either. In fact, I promised myself I would no longer write on either subject (read You’re a Grown Ass Man). No, this post is about taking back some degree of control in an unscripted life. While we may not always be able to control who walks into our life or who walks out of it, we can control how we react to it. And while we may not always be able to control who our heart loves, we can control how we heal from it. Basically, if you can’t control a situation, at the very least you can control how you react to it. Which leads me to the BIG announcement...

I’m detoxing from manwhoring.

I realize this comes as a shock to those that know me because in the past I’ve followed the theory that the best way to get over one girl is to get under another one. Of course that only works if you were just heavily in-like. But if you were in love, well that’s a whole other entity in itself! That's something a night of unbridled sex with a mere acquaintance cannot cure, which is why I kindly declined all her advances and offers. I’m not even going to entertain the thought. Because I know me. I know how I feel. And I know I’ll be tempted again like I was last week, but I also know I deserve something more.

I think I deserve something beautiful.

We all deserve something beautiful.

You're A Grown Ass Man!

Dear David,

I’m writing you this letter because someone has to say this to you. And who better to say it than me? Afterall, who’s closer to you and knows you better than I do? I want to apologize in advance for giving you such a public tongue-lashing. But having this talk behind closed doors wouldn’t have as profound of an impact on you as this open letter will. Hate me for it now, but in due time, I’m confident you will one day thank me. So here it is. Sugar-free, blunt and brutally honest - just the way you like it.

First things first. Shut the fuck up. Yes. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. I can’t take your whining anymore! That internal dialog you have running on continuous repeat in your head. Your self-loathing, your extended pity party, your melancholy mopey state of mind. It’s annoying, pathetic and downright embarrassing to witness. So turn that off. Add upbeat thoughts. Shuffle that playlist. Then hit repeat.

Let’s talk about your addiction. You being a love sick crack head. It’s starting to (read "been") freaking me out! You have a slight obsession. Maybe you need some rehab. Or maybe you just need some sleep. Or maybe you should be more concerned that the pop song lyrics to Kesha’s "Your Love Is My Drug" fits you entirely too well! Whatever the case may be, the high you get when she’s around and then the crash and crave you experience when she leaves, is that rush really worth it? At one point I think you would have loudly proclaimed "YES," but now you would have to agree that it’s become detrimental to your sanity, not to mention your self-esteem.

The vast majority of the time you didn’t feel "special" (such a sissy term) because perhaps you aren’t special. And for whatever reason she didn’t show you the same type of supportive friendship she shows everyone else because perhaps you aren’t worthy of it. Maybe that is the truth and maybe that is not. I don’t have any explanations to give you, but there’s no sense in pondering painful questions you most likely will never have an answer to. Accept it. Stop trying to make sense of it. And stop drawing your own ill-formed, and probably woefully inaccurate, conclusions. It is what it is. Cliché, but true.

So you’re in love with her and you miss her. So what? Get over it. Or as they say in the movies, "send her love and light every time you think of her and then drop it." Stop wearing your wishbone where your backbone outta be. And I better not dare catch your glossy-eyed reflection in the bathroom mirror again like I did Monday night. Because if a single tear drops from your face, I will personally punch you straight in your suck hole! Big girls don’t cry. And neither do grown ass men! Your little heart has been broken before and you survived. So your pitiful "but this time it’s different" argument holds no weight here. I’ve heard it all before. Each time is always different and each time is always the same. Heartache is a part of life and dealing with it maturely is called being a grown ass man.

And enough with the overly romanticized idea of showing up unannounced on her doorstep to prove your love. That makes me want to puke in my mouth. Plus, there’s a thin line between romantic and creepy. That borderlines creepy. It also screams needy, clingy and desperate. Not a sexy look on you. Simply put, enough with the love sick puppy bullshit. Get a clue and grow a pair. She’s over it. Now you be too.

Never thought I would say this, but I had more respect for you when you were a manwhore. At least then you were in control of your emotions. You didn’t grant them power over you. And you shouldn't allow negative thoughts about yourself to overpower you either. You've allowed yourself to be unbalanced by love. That's a good thing. But now it's time to find balance again. The first step to doing that is getting your head straight. Write this quote down and tape it to your bathroom mirror...

"Everything that happens to me is the best possible thing that can happen to me." - Zen and the Art of Happiness by Chris Prentiss

That doesn’t just apply to your love life, but rather to all the recent troubles in your life. Forgo your heart for awhile in search of your head. There’s nothing wrong with being perfectly lonely. Above all else, just remember...if you love her, love her. And if you miss her, miss her. Send her love and light every time you think of her and then drop it.

You don’t need a girl. And you don’t need a hug. What you need is a hard, swift kick in the ass. I’m happy to have served it.

You’re a grown ass man! Now start acting like one.

Love,
Yourself



Seriously. Love yourself.

Allow Yourself To Be Unbalanced By Love

"To lose balance sometimes for love is part of living a balanced life." - Elizabeth Gilbert

Remember that. Better yet, live that.

Everywhere you turn lately people are talking about finding balance in life. From religious sects, spiritual leaders and life coaches to blogs, books and even the movies. Elizabeth Gilbert’s New York Times Best Selling Book "Eat Pray Love" recently made the move from chick lit to chick flick, but her story isn’t new. Here is yet another tale of a woman wanting to flee from her life as she goes through a quarter-life crisis. During this mental and emotional meltdown, she divorces her husband and purchases countless self-help books. When those fail to fix what she deems broken, she decides to quit her job, sells everything she owns and runs away to unfamiliar worlds (Italy, India and Bali). In these foreign lands she will live for a year (4 months in each) with hopes she will "find herself." Sure, strong Miss Independent women are highly attractive to me and there is something inherently sexy about traveling abroad. However, as I sat in the theater with my sister (brother brownie points to me for taking her to a chick flick) and she marveled at the exquisite food, the plethora of accents and the breath taking scenery...all I marveled at was how unbelievably beautiful Julia Robert’s smile is! But my schoolboy crush on a Hollywood celebrity is not what this post is about. Nor is it a review of her latest movie. This post is about an "ah-ha moment" we can all discover for ourselves without needing to flee the country to discover it.

A lot of us are control freaks. We are reluctant to give up the reins to anyone or anything, including love. The second we start to sense we are losing grip on a situation, AKA falling in love, we feel the overwhelming urge to pull back instead of allowing ourselves to let it flow through us like rain. To some, falling hopelessly in love with another human being is incredibly frightening because they feel as if they are going to wash away. They fear becoming so submerged in this new person and new relationship that they will lose a sense of who they are and the life they set out to live. But for those that realize it’s sometimes necessary to be temporarily unbalanced in/by love in order to live a balanced life, their identity remains intact. They keep the same core values, goals and dreams. They remain a "me" first and a "we" second.

If you’ve ever been in love, you understand the roller coaster of emotions that comes with it. And when it comes to roller coasters there are 3 types of riders:

• Those too frightened to ever climb aboard for fear of being out of control.
• Those who climb aboard with hesitation and ride white knuckled, anxious for it to end so they can regain control.
• Those who jump right in, throw their hands in the air, relinquish all control and just enjoy the ride...to wherever it takes them and for however long it lasts.

A roller coaster, like love, can leave you feeling dizzy. But isn’t that dizzy state the best part of love? They are the first thought on your mind before you’re fully awake in the morning, the final thought on your mind before you fall asleep at night and a constant thought passing through your mind during the day. I’m fine with not being completely in control of my heart. I’m fine with the sick, queasy feeling I sometimes get in the pit of my stomach at noon because it’s balanced out by the warm, fluttering in my chest I receive at midnight by something as simple as a smiley face message on my phone. Our heart is the most vulnerable part of our body. So to give our heart to someone and relinquish that power is understandably scary, but it’s also empowering and freeing. It’s the same reason why people like music and dancing and drinking. They all temporarirly make you lose control, as does love.

To lose balance sometimes for love is part of living a balanced life.

So while we struggle to live this balanced life that we are constantly being preached to about, perhaps love is best left out of that balanced mix. Afterall, if the heart is the most vulnerable part of the body, then love surely is the strongest emotion the heart emits. And isn’t that balance in itself? Tying the weakest part of the body to the strongest emotion known to man?

Or maybe I’m just trying to start a campaign against conventional and predictable love. How unbelievably boring and unromantic would that relationship be!

Communication Gap Between Sexes - Don't Blame The Ears

• Two Tales: Unbridged vs Abridged
Ask a couple who just returned from vacation how their trip was and you’ll hear two very different variations of the same story - an unabridged and abridged version. From the woman, you’ll hear a play-by-play, hour long, detailed packed tale full of highs and lows, tragic and triumph, love and lose. And from the man, you’ll get a one sentence reply, "it was good." If you’re a woman comparing these stories you’ll immediately overanalyze and jump to conclusions thinking something must be wrong! Did this man NOT enjoy himself? He barely said anything! He must want to breakup with her and she is clueless! But if you’re a guy comparing these stories, you simply reply "cool" and go about your day. It’s no secret that men and women are very different when it comes to communication styles. Women want to immerse you in their world. They really stand behind the "sharing is caring" motto they learned as children. Whereas men just give you the bullet points, the highlighted Cliff Notes.

• Fiction or Non-Fiction: Men Suck At Listening?
It seems the only thing more frustrating to a woman than a man’s lack of storytelling is his inability to listen. Men are constantly getting crap for not listening! The fact of the matter is if you are talking a mile a minute and throwing all sorts of info at me and your story is jumping all over the place causing me to play connect the dots with the bullet points, I’m going to feel overwhelmed and confused. And when I get to that state, I start to tremble and silently whimper. I tune you out because you’re making my brain hurt. It’s a survival method!

• When Someone Finishes Your Sentences
I recently read a great article titled "The Art Of Listening" by ChaChanna Simpson. She talks about her biggest pet peeve - interrupting someone when they speak. She empathizes how YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY LISTEN TO SOMEONE IF YOU ARE TALKING AT THE SAME TIME. While I totally agree with her, I personally like it when someone can finish my sentences. To me that says they "get me." And it saves me the trouble of having to find the words, or waste their time getting to the point of what I was saying if they already know what the point of what I’m trying to say is! When that happens, you just know the two of you click and there’s an instant bond there - something that’s not always easy to find. Of course when they don’t "get you" and they try to finish your sentences, then it just comes across as a rude interruption and is annoying.

• She’s Looking For An Ear, He’s Looking For A Solution
Like I said, there is a HUGE difference between men and women when it comes to communication. Women often say they like a guy who enjoys talking, but what they really mean is they like a guy who enjoys listening to THEM talk. I don’t mean that in a rude way. What I mean is that women often just want someone to vent to, someone to listen. However, men by nature are problems solvers and many have trouble not offering advice in hopes of solving their girlfriend’s problem rather than just offering her an ear and nothing else. I’ve learned this lesson at a young age from growing up with two sisters. And I’ve learned that more often than not, I’m to shut up and just listen.

Now when it comes to men, I know that when I have a problem some of my female friends think I just want to vent to them. So they will listen to me, but not offer any solutions or advice. As a guy, that frustrates me because usually the whole reason I brought the topic up is because I’m seeking help, not just an ear to listen. And there lies the communication barrier. Perhaps I could break through that barrier if I started the conversation by saying three words - I need help. A phrase I rarely, if ever, say. Because it goes against my strong, independent, problem solving mindset. (You can add "stupid" in there if you like as well.)

• Listening Is Done With Your Heart
It's the old "you hear me, but are you actually listening?" If you're a man, you've probably heard this snappy tone projected your way on a least a handful of occasions. But something women should be aware of is a lot of men have been trained to just hit the red record button in their brain when a woman starts to talk. That way when she asks if he’s listening, he can simply hit play and spit back all that data. So while it may appear he was listening, he may not actually be listening. I think TRUE listening has to come from caring. When you care about someone and what they have to say, you’ll listen with not just your ears, but with your heart as well.

So what does it mean if you started forming a comment to this post before you even finished reading this post? It means you're a bad listener (er, reader). But hopefully some of what I've said today can help break down the barrier and bridge the communication gap between the sexes. Because the first step to better communication is understanding that people's wants, needs and communication styles vary. When it comes down to it, the communication gap between the sexes has less to do with the gap between your ears and more to do with the gap in your heart. When you care more, you'll listen more. It's as simple as that.

My Guest Post: Asking 'How Was Your Day'

"There is not enough appreciation in our world. We don’t say thank you, give compliments, draw attention to someone’s hard work, or tell people how much they mean to us, as much as we should. I believe in the importance of appreciation, and I’ve been on a mission to urge others to appreciate. But, I’m only one person with one blog. So, I’m starting a revolution. I have reached out to the greatest bloggers I know and asked them to share their thoughts on appreciation. Some will write from a business perspective, some from personal experience, but I know all of them will have something valuable to share. You may think that you don’t need to appreciate people. They already know how you feel, someone else will recognize them for their hard work, you’ll thank them the next time you see them. The truth is, you never know what tomorrow will bring." - Samantha Karol

New York blogger Samantha Karol, from Life Is Like A Box Of Chocolates, recently asked me to be part of her Appreciation Revolution series. I'll admit that the guest post I wrote for her took me forever to complete! Although I loved the idea behind her Appreciation Revolution series, I had reservations about the subject I finally chose to write on. I thought about changing the subject of the post completely because to me it read mushy, made me sound pathetic and was just flat out embarrassing. In fact, I deleted the post twice, then rewrote it three times. I chopped it up and spliced it back together once more before deciding enough was enough. I was just going to put it out there. So here it is...

Asking 'How Was Your Day'
"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things." - Robert Brault

In August 2009, I started a Gratitude Journal. I’ve always been able to appreciate the little things in life. So, writing a daily entry in a Gratitude Journal seemed like it would be an effortless task. Although I soon realized that the hard part wasn’t finding something to be grateful for, but rather finding 5 minutes at the end of each day to devote to writing about it.

Not long ago, I was caught writing in that little, black Moleskine. And while I hid my written words from prying eyes, I did make a verbal confession outloud. With a big, stupid grin on my face I proclaimed...

Me: I think I may be falling in love.
My Sister: Ha. Really? How do you know that?
Me: Because she always asks how my day was.

I know. It’s ridiculous. Falling in love with someone because they ask how your day was? To everyone else it’s called "engaging in light conversation." It’s a simple question, a polite gesture. But to me, it was extremely rare, and meant the world! It sounds bizarre, and probably quite sad, but until recently, I’ve never had a girl ask me how my day was. Never! I just don’t think they ever cared enough to ask, or had any genuine interest in hearing the answer.

Continue reading the full post here.

Your Girl's Vibrator Is Your Friend, Not Your Foe

Everyone knows diamonds are a girl’s best friend. But she also has other besties - like chocolate, flowers, designer shoes, pretty smelling things...and of course her vibrator. Now maybe girls don’t get themselves off as much as guys, but it’s no secret girls masturbate too. And any girl that says she doesn’t is either a liar or a giant prude! You do it. Guys know it. And we love it! Or maybe I should only speak for myself? Because the sad truth is some guys don’t love it. Yes, there are plenty of guys out there that are intimidated by your nightstand goodie drawer. Whether it be a vibrator, or a dildo, or a vibrating dildo, they freak out because they fear it will replace them. They worry they won’t be able to satisfy her like a high powered, long lasting, battery operated toy can. I disagree!

While my penis may not be able to vibrate at 9 different speeds like your We-Vibe can, your We-Vibe can't kiss you. It can't write you love letters or whisper in your ear. It can't take you out to dinner at night or spoon with you late into the morning. And it can't hold your hand proudly as it walks down the street. So take that We-Vibe! You're not all that! Well, actually maybe you are. Let’s just say I hear things. Lots of good things, especially on level 4! Word is you’re pretty ahhhmaaazing and you get the job done in record time. Still, I’m not intimidated by you. Anything you can do, I can do better. Plus, I don’t need plugged in and recharged. I am always ready for you and at your disposal, over and over again. Bonus - unlike you, I don't have a weird latex smell to me either.

I had a friend call me once in panic mode because his girlfriend wanted to go to an Adult Store with him. My reaction, "and this is a problem why?" I just could not understand him. There shouldn’t have even been a conversation about it, let alone an argument! So let me be clear. If she ever asks any of these questions, your response should be as follows...

• Watch a porn together? YES!
• Go to a strip club with me? YES!
• Try some sex toys out? YES!
• Construct a sex swing? YES!
• Use sex toys with sex swing? YES!
• Throw a midget, a whip and some chocolate syrup in the mix? Well yes, but let’s exclude the midget for now.

The point is, people need to expand their sexual horizons. Stop being so uptight and so scared. Nut up and have some damn confidence in yourself. And if you suck in bed, maybe this is the time to work on your skills before she dumps you (and your useless tongue and dick) for a Costco-sized value pack of AA batteries. Your girl’s vibrator is your friend, not your foe. You should be excited for her and encourage her naughty toy sessions. It’s normal. It’s healthy. It’s sexy! Seriously, do you have any idea how hot that is? If you think getting a lap dance from a stripper or watching two lesbians make-out is hot, you obviously haven’t heard play-by-play details of her pleasuring herself. Or even better, watched your girl pleasure herself infront of you! And chances are she will want you to join in and use it on her! Just thinking about that makes me happy in the pants!

Want to be good in bed? Then stop being selfish in bed. Your main goal should be pleasing her and worrying less about yourself. You should want to satisfy her by any means possible, even if it means you need to stop with the stupid ego and welcome a toy in.

Still nervous? Then get the We-Vibe. It's sex toy you can both use together while having sex. Fun for her. Fun for you. Fun for everyone! Nothing intimidating about that, right? Afterall, having sex with a vibrating vagina? Yes, please!

***NOTE***
Related Post: 8/9/06 - Get Your Groove On With "OhMiBod" (iPod Vibrator)

2 Things Women Always Say To Men, But Never Should

I want a memo to go out to all women all over the world. A memo stating the 2 things they always say to men, but never should! Two very important things that they ALL seem to say to me.

1. "I'm not crazy, I swear."
Don't ever say "I'm not crazy, I swear." Just having to convince me that you're not crazy tells me you ARE in fact crazy! And obviously you even know I think you're crazy because you're already apologizing, or rather excusing, any future crazy behavior you're about to show me. Besides, crazy people never think they're crazy. That's what makes them so crazy! Believe me, I have the best "cradar" (crazy radar) in town! I had a real life crazy chick that stalked me for years, which is why I can spot crazy a mile away! So by reinforcing the "I'm not crazy, I swear" statements you're only further perpetuating your crazy status.

Solution: Instead of saying anything crazy like that, maybe you should just try smiling quietly in a non-crazy way?

2. "I never do this."
The infamous "I never do this." If I had a dollar for every time a girl told me she never does this (ex: one-night-stand, e-mailing a stranger, etc.) I would be a rich, RICH man! Do you really expect me to believe that when you make pornstar Jenna Jameson look like a prude in comparison? And wanting it in your butt or asking if your hot girlfriend can join us doesn't help your innocent girl case either. Amature or first-timer you are not! You are just telling me you never do this so I don't think you're crazy or a slut. Just embrace your bad girl self and stop lying to me. You do this. You've done it before. And you'll do it again.

See, now that all that honesty is out on the table we can have a beautiful exchange!

Territorial Pissings

I wish I was more like my English Bulldog, Diesel. He just walks up and claims things as his own. What he wants, he gets. He claims it as his own by urinating on it. He sees a tree and says "that's mine." He doesn't have to plead his case. He doesn't have to justify his feelings or his actions. There is no discussion or argument from other dogs. And the tree has no say in the matter. He just lifts his leg and pees. A territorial pissing by a dominant male that sends a clear message to every other male within a 100 mile radius that this tree belongs to me! This is mine! And you...you stay away! Wouldn't it be great if things worked like this in the dating world?

Obviously, territorial pissings is a metaphor and I don't actually want to give any girl a Golden Shower. But sometimes I wish I could claim a girl that doesn't belong to me as mine. Not in a "jealous control freak" kind of way, but in more of a "just the thought of sharing you with anyone else makes me so nervous and nauseous that I want to instantly throw-up all over myself" kind of way. Sadly though, the human world is much more complicated and complex than the canine world. And while you can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel.

This is not a new place for me to be. Just last year I spoke about this very issue in a post titled "My Unforeseen And Unrecognizable Feelings?" In it I described how a friend of mine told me about her one-night-stand over the weekend and how I instantly felt pangs of jealousy out of nowhere! I had always seen her as just a pal, but at that moment I began to question if what I was experiencing wasn't actually the awaking of some unknown feelings I had towards her.

Several years before that, I was dating a girl who constantly asked me to define our relationship. At the time I couldn't understand why she needed an "official title." Why did we need to define what we were doing? Why was it so important that I labeled her "my girlfriend?" It seemed silly to me. I wasn't afraid of commitment, I just wasn't ready to commit. So I started referring to her as "my kinda sorta but not really girlfriend." It was a title she laughed off like a good sport. Then she informed me that since she was just a "kinda sorta not really girlfriend" to me, that she was "kinda sorta not really going to sleep with me" anymore. OUCH! We continued dating, but without the sex. It was torture! However, that was her point - to torture me like I tortured her and to teach me a hard (pun intended) lesson. Of course the "no sex rule" only lasted a week until one evening I went to kiss her goodnight at her door and she practically ripped my shirt off pulling me inside her apartment. I suppose she realized she was also torturing herself in the process of trying to torture me and surrendered to the temptation.

I may never understand the need to be in a realtionship. Although, today I finally understand her need for an official title. I understand her need of wanting the relationship to be defined. And I understand how frustrating it must have felt to live with that uncertainty of where you stand with someone you clearly care so deeply about. Having an official title and having a relationship be defined comes with a level of security and comfort that was previously absent. And as much as I like to keep saying I'm perfectly lonely, I think I may secretly crave that deeper connection.

Once again I find myself in a similar situation, but the tables have turned. I'm in a "relationship" (for lack of a better word) that has never been clearly defined and wanting to tie myself to someone who is essentially free. The rules are fuzzy and the boundary lines invisible. It's like I'm holding my breath waiting for the worst, but praying for the best so I can exhale a giant sigh of relief. Oh how I wish I was a dog.

Call me selfish, but I don't want to share you...at least not with other boys. (And I don't want anyone else to pee on you either.)

Being You Is Enough

I'm a competitive freak! I compete at anything and everything. I just can't help it. From sports and business to video games and "how many fruit snacks can you shove in your mouth" game with my 6-year-old niece. (Which by the way I won last time with 3 full bags of fruit snacks in my mouth. I could have set a fruit snack world record by doing more, but she made me laugh, causing me to nearly choke to death at her tea party table! I blame her. I mean, who serves pretend tea to their choking guests?) You are either born with the competitive gene or you're not. Clearly I was born with it, whereas my sisters clearly were not. I must be challenged. A mind is a terrible thing to waste, so I challenge it. And you have a body, so why not use it? That is my philosophy. Competition among others is normal and perfectly healthy. However, competition in a relationship is not.

I'm not talking about competing for a girl or guy's attention in some bar. And I'm not talking about competing in a friendly game of miniature golf on a date. I'm talking about competing within the relationship, with one another. That private competition you have going on in your head with them - where you compare your personal accomplishments alongside theirs. Or maybe it's just me who does this? I'm ashamed to admit I've done it, but proud to report I quickly overcame it. And relieved that she never knew I did it! Well until now, depending on whether or not she reads my blog.

While I was completely impressed by her long list of accomplishments, I was also a bit irritated by the fact that she was better than me in so many areas! I didn’t like losing, especially to a girl! I learned she had a slightly higher GPA than me in college and graduated with honors, whereas I just missed graduating with honors. "That’s ok," I told myself. I’m sure she wasn’t a double major like me. And then, I found out she was. Again I told myself, "that’s ok." I’m sure I’m more athletic than her because I attended college on an athletic scholarship. That’s when she tells me she just completed a triathlon. Seriously? Damn it! It was then that I didn’t want to know anymore. Clearly this girl would win in a game of "I Bet You Can’t Top That." I had met my match. And trying to impress her was going to be one hell of a challenge!

Although just as the concern of "how could I impress someone like her" crossed my mind, I recalled back to a previous relationship from a few years ago. At the time I had felt in inadequate. I found it difficult to impress her and often wondered what she liked about me. She seemed so much more worldly than me that I felt as if we were from two different worlds! I would quietly compare us in my head and the facts were clear. My bookshelf is not as full. My music collection is not as deep. My passport is not as decorated. That is when she put all my fears to rest in one breath. She said...

"Being you is enough. It’s definitely enough."

I’m sooo appreciative of those words because even to this day I remind myself of that simple fact. Being you is enough. I stopped trying to impress. I stopped trying to audition for other people’s lives. And most importantly, I stopped comparing myself to the lives of others. There is always going to be someone better looking, more successful, smarter, faster, stronger, just better than you. And while you shouldn’t stop competing in life, you should stop comparing yourself and your life to others. You will exhaust yourself trying to match or triumph them. Because at the end of the day if you find yourself surrounded by people you feel jealous or envious of, maybe the real issue isn’t that they’re beating you, but rather you aren’t pushing yourself hard enough.

So instead of allowing yourself to feel even a tiny shred of animosity toward them, be happy for them. Be proud of their accomplishments. Encourage them. Support them. Help them reach all their dreams and achieve all their goals. Because believe me, when something great happens to someone you really care about, it’s as if something great happened to you.

My Guest Post: Clarity

***NOTE***
The follow-up from 1/21/10 - Release

After the Melissa Blake fiasco, I swore I would never guest post for anyone ever again! And I didn't, until my friend Elisa Doucette from OpheliasWebb.com convinced me otherwise. Since February is dubbed "the month of love," Elisa put together a great blog series project all about love. She selected 28 bloggers to guest post on the topic and has published their words throughout the entire month of February. 1 Blog. 1 Topic. 1 Month. 28 Days. 28 Guest Bloggers. Although a lie, I like to pretend she saved the best for last by making me the final guest blogger in the series with this post below.

Clarity
"I want you to get swept away out there. I want you to levitate. I want you to...sing with rapture and dance like a dervish. Be deliriously happy, or at least leave yourself open to be. I know it's a cornball thing. But love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without. I say, fall head over heels. Find someone you can love like crazy and who will love you the same way back. How do you find him? Well, you forget your head, and you listen to your heart. And I'm not hearing any heart. 'Cause the truth is, honey, there's no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love, well, you haven't lived a life at all. But you have to try, 'cause if you haven't tried, you haven't lived." - Anthony Hopkins role as "Bill Parrish" in the movie Meet Joe Black, heart to heart father/daughter talk

Love is a crazy, dizzy thing. Sometimes it’s all so beautiful I can hardly stand it. I want to capture it. So I take a photograph. To make time stand still. I freeze the moment for all eternity and hang that memory on a wall. But then that doesn’t seem like enough. The photograph allows me to recall that exact same vision I once had, but it doesn’t give me the movement. The way that one strand of hair kept blowing across her face, attempting to unite with her bottom lip. Or the way the early morning sunlight pardoned the rain, reflecting and dancing across the small of her back from the dusty windowpane.

...read the rest of my Guest Post here.

Also, be sure to check out the other bloggers (some really talented writers included) who participated in the series. Elisa’s "All You Need Is Love" blog series project will definitely get you thinking and questioning love and your own life.

The Sexiest Breed Of Woman - Miss Independent

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Stupid Is As Stupid Does

I don’t know what I was thinking, apparently I wasn’t thinking. I took a story (a personal matter) and purposely twisted it, taking it out of context to create a humorous tale to post here on my blog. Stupid.

STUPID.
STUPID.
STUPID.

I’ve since apologized and removed the post I had published here earlier today. Still, I can’t take back what I did. Believe me, I sooo wish I could! I fucked up. I feel smaller than a midget, worse than an asshole, and dumber than a rock. I don’t know what my problem is, but I deserve the ending result.

I won’t say more than that because I’ve already shared entirely too much with this virtual world. So I’m going to shut up. But before I do, let me just re-emphasize one last thing...

I’m so, sooo sorry for what I’ve done! My intention was never to purposely hurt anyone, embarrass anyone, or let anyone down. I don’t expect forgiveness. I just ask that everyone doesn’t judge me based solely on this one act, on my sheer stupidity. I messed up. I was wrong. Now I have to live with it.

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