Category: life experience

Posted in life, life experience, love

What Heartbreak Shouldn’t Take From You

Posted on by affirmationofvisions

I know some of my writing lately has probably sounded like I’m tooting my own horn about my kids. I’m really not. I think I’m just at this stage where they’re old enough to show me who they’ve become, and every once in a while one of them says something that makes me realize, Wow. They really were listening.

Today was one of those days.

Last year, my son dated someone he really cared about. He went into it with his whole heart. He planned beautiful dates, opened doors, was thoughtful, brought her around his family and gave her a real place in his life. He did all the things that came naturally to him when he cared about someone.

But somehow, he constantly felt like none of it was enough.

When it ended, he was devastated. I remember him going back to school telling me he would never do it again. No more beautiful dates. No more going above and beyond. No more letting someone that far into his life. He wasn’t going to be that guy anymore.

And I got angry.

Not at him, but because someone had hurt him badly enough to make him believe that the problem was how he loved.

I remember telling him, absolutely not. You are not going to let one person change the man you are.

And maybe I felt so strongly about it because I knew exactly what happens to the person who comes next.

I feel like I have spent much of my adult life being that person. I’ve met men after the heartbreak, after the betrayal, after the woman who made them decide they would never give that much again. Then I came along wanting something pretty simple: someone who was proud to have me in his life, who wanted me around his family, planned a date sometimes, was romantic, made memories with me and, in time, wasn’t afraid to give me a real place in his world.

No whirlwind. No instant promises. Just someone willing to eventually love me without making me pay for what somebody else did.

And so many times, I met people who had already decided they weren’t doing that anymore.

For a long time, it made me wonder if I was just hard to love. As I’ve gotten older, I realize that isn’t it. I know what I bring into someone’s life, and I know how much love I have to give. I just kept meeting people who were afraid to give theirs again.

That’s what I needed my son to understand.

Take your time. Be selective. Make people earn access to the deepest parts of you. Learn the difference between chemistry and character and pay attention to how someone treats your heart.

But don’t change your heart because somebody mishandled it.

Because someday another woman may come along who had absolutely nothing to do with what happened to you. She may have spent years hoping to meet exactly the kind of man you are. How unfair would it be for her to finally find you and receive half of you because somebody before her didn’t appreciate the whole?

Today, almost a year later, my son told me about a conversation he had with a friend. He said he found himself giving him the same advice I had given him.

He told him that he had learned to take his time and be more careful about who he gives his heart to, but he will never let someone change the way he loves. When he chooses someone, he is going to love the way he loves, and if that’s too much for her, then she isn’t his person.

That made me proud.

Not because I had all the answers, but because he understood the difference between learning from hurt and becoming hurt.

And maybe that’s the part worth sharing.

So many of us meet someone after someone else has broken them. We end up trying to prove that we’re different, trying to earn things we never took away in the first place, and accepting half-love because somebody before us made them afraid to give the whole thing again.

Then we get hurt.

And if we’re not careful, we do the exact same thing to the next person.

At some point, somebody has to break that cycle.

Protect your heart. Take your time. Have boundaries. Walk away when someone shows you they aren’t deserving of what you have to give.

But if you aren’t ready to love someone, don’t invite them into your life and make them pay for wounds they didn’t create.

And when you are ready, love like yourself.

Whoever hurt you already took enough.

Don’t let them take the best parts of you too.

Posted in life, life experience, love

Some Choices Make More Sense Years Later

Posted on by affirmationofvisions

I overheard a conversation recently that really had nothing to do with me, but it stayed with me long after it was over. It was about custody schedules, relationships, traveling, and trying to figure out how all of those pieces fit together. Nothing particularly dramatic, just real life. But at some point, I found myself thinking, This. This is exactly why I made some of the choices I made when my kids were little.

I spent most of my children’s childhood single. And when I say that, I don’t mean I never dated. I did. I met people, went to dinner, and tried at different points to make room for that part of my life. But there was always one problem: my children were completely non-negotiable.

I don’t just mean that in the obvious way that most parents would say their children come first. I mean their time with me was non-negotiable. Their access to me was non-negotiable. If they needed me, I was going. I can remember being on a date and getting a call that one of my kids wasn’t feeling well and wanted to come home to me. There was never a debate in my head about what I should do or a thought of, But I already have plans. My plans changed.

Eventually, I realized something that I actually think was very fair to everyone involved. I probably wasn’t capable of being a great partner during that season of my life, because another person deserves to matter too. They deserve someone who can occasionally choose them, someone who can make plans and protect those plans, and someone who can build a life with them without constantly making them feel like they are in second place. With me, during those years, they would have been. Every single time.

That doesn’t make me a better mother than someone who chose differently. It doesn’t mean divorced parents shouldn’t date, fall in love, remarry, travel, or build beautiful blended families. Plenty of people do exactly that and raise incredibly happy children. This is simply something I knew about myself and what I was capable of giving at that point in my life.

When I decided to become a mother, I did it believing I was building a family where my children would be with me every day. I never imagined divorce. I never imagined custody schedules, and I certainly never imagined having to negotiate pieces of their childhood around another relationship. Divorce changed that reality for me, so when their father had his time with them, I respected it. But I never wanted to start looking at the time I had with them as something I needed to rearrange so my romantic life could be more convenient.

There were times people didn’t understand that. Why couldn’t the kids just stay with their dad an extra night? Why couldn’t I change weekends? Why couldn’t I make a trip work? Why couldn’t someone else keep them? Technically, I probably could have done all of those things. I just didn’t want to.

What I didn’t fully understand then was how quickly those years were disappearing. There would eventually be plenty of Friday nights when nobody needed me. There would eventually be weekends when nobody was asking what we were doing. There would eventually be vacations they couldn’t take because they had school, work, girlfriends, friends, responsibilities, and lives of their own. There would eventually be a time when I could get on a plane without coordinating anyone else’s schedule.

I live in that time now.

And maybe that’s why that conversation stayed with me. Looking back, I understand something I probably couldn’t fully articulate then: I wasn’t putting my life on hold for my children. That was my life. Being their mom wasn’t the thing keeping me from living. It was the thing I had chosen to live fully during that season.

Of course there were sacrifices attached to that choice. Maybe I missed relationships that could have become something. Maybe there were people who would have loved me well. Maybe there were trips I could have taken, dinners I could have attended, and experiences I could have had. I’ll never really know, but I know what I did have.

I had ordinary Tuesdays. I had sick kids crawling into my bed. I had Friday nights when nobody had anywhere better to be. I had rides in the car, dinners at home, ridiculous conversations, last-minute plans, and the thousand completely unremarkable moments that somehow become the ones you miss the most.

Now my kids are grown. They don’t need me the way they once did, and my time belongs mostly to me again. I can date. I can travel. I can make plans without checking a custody calendar. I can build a relationship differently today because I’m in a completely different season of motherhood.

Strangely enough, I don’t look back at those years and feel like I lost anything. If anything, hearing that conversation made me realize how certain I still am about the choice I made. I didn’t choose being alone because I didn’t believe in love. I chose not to force romantic love into a season of my life where I knew I wasn’t willing to give it the space it deserved.

My children had that space, and for me, that was exactly where it belonged.

Posted in life, life experience, love, Self Improvement

Sometimes the Kindest Thing Is a No

Posted on by affirmationofvisions

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about honesty.

Not the dramatic kind. Not confess-your-deepest-secrets honesty. Just the very simple kind where you stop trying to manage everyone else’s feelings long enough to be honest about your own.

And apparently, I’m still learning this one.

I’ve realized that one of my patterns over the years has been staying in things longer than I should because I don’t want to hurt someone.

I’ve continued conversations I already knew weren’t going anywhere. I’ve gone on another date because someone was nice and I thought, What’s the harm? I’ve convinced myself that maybe attraction would grow, maybe I was being too picky, maybe I should give someone more of a chance.

And sometimes that “one more chance” has turned into a lot more than one more chance.

I once stayed in a relationship for two and a half years that, if I’m being completely truthful with myself, started with me trying to talk myself into feelings that weren’t really there.

Two and a half years.

That’s a pretty long time to learn that lesson.

And the person wasn’t a bad person. That’s actually what makes these situations harder. It’s easy to walk away when someone treats you terribly. It’s much harder when they’re kind. When they’re interested. When conversation is easy. When you can see all the reasons you should like them.

Except your gut quietly keeps saying, But I don’t.

Recently, I found myself standing at the beginning of that familiar road again.

There was good conversation. A genuinely good person. Nothing “wrong” that I could point to. I enjoyed spending time with him.

But I knew.

There wasn’t a romantic connection for me.

And the old version of me probably would have kept talking. Maybe gone out again. Let things play out a little longer because I knew the other person was interested and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

Except I’ve finally realized something:

Leading someone on because you don’t want to hurt them isn’t actually kindness.

It’s just delayed hurt.

And usually, it’s worse later.

Because eventually a relationship needs more than two people who think highly of each other. Attraction matters. Chemistry matters. Wanting to touch someone matters. Wanting them to touch you matters. That doesn’t make anyone shallow.

I think we’ve heard “it’s what’s on the inside that counts” so many times that we’re almost afraid to admit that attraction has a place too.

Of course the inside matters. To me, it matters first.

Do I like who you are as a human being? Are you kind? Do I respect you? Can we talk? Can we laugh? Do I feel safe being myself around you?

But somewhere shortly after that comes another question:

Am I attracted to you?

And I don’t mean, Would other people think you’re attractive?

Those are two completely different questions.

Someone can be objectively good-looking and do absolutely nothing for you. Someone else may not fit anyone’s definition of a supermodel and somehow you can’t stop looking at them.

Attraction is personal. And it doesn’t require a defense.

What I’m learning is that I don’t have to turn someone into a villain to justify not wanting a relationship with them.

That’s been a big one for me.

Nothing has to be wrong.

They don’t have to say something terrible. They don’t have to disappoint me. They don’t have to give me a reason to leave.

Sometimes the reason is simply:

This isn’t it for me.

And that’s enough.

So instead of slowly pulling away, becoming less responsive, hoping the other person would figure it out, or continuing something because I felt guilty, I chose honesty.

Kind honesty.

The kind that says, I enjoyed spending time with you. I think you’re a genuinely good person. But I don’t feel a romantic connection, and I don’t want to continue talking in a way that makes you believe this is heading somewhere that I know, in my heart, it isn’t.

Was that probably disappointing to hear?

Yes.

But disappointment isn’t cruelty.

And I think I’ve confused those two things before.

I’ve been on the other side too. I’ve wondered why someone’s energy changed. I’ve replayed conversations trying to figure out what I said. I’ve wondered what happened between Tuesday, when everything seemed great, and Thursday, when suddenly I was getting responses that felt like they were coming from a customer service representative.

That uncertainty can mess with you far more than a simple truth.

Tell me I’m not your type.

Tell me the chemistry isn’t there.

Tell me you’re looking for something different.

Tell me you like me as a person but don’t see me romantically.

Will my ego love it?

Probably not.

But give me a couple of hours. I’ll survive.

What I don’t want anymore, on either side, is ambiguity created solely because someone is afraid to be honest.

Now, I still reserve the right to disappear when somebody says something so wildly inappropriate that my only reasonable response is to return myself to the witness protection program.

Growth has limits.

But when someone has been respectful and genuine with me, I want to offer that same respect back.

Because I’m trying to live more intentionally now, and I think intention applies to dating too. I don’t want to keep saying yes because no feels uncomfortable. I don’t want to occupy someone’s time while secretly knowing I can’t give them what they’re looking for. And I definitely don’t want to occupy my own time that way either. Because here’s the other part of this that I hadn’t really considered before:

Every time I stay in something I already know isn’t right because I’m afraid to hurt someone’s feelings, I’m also delaying my own life.

I’m filling space.

I’m giving energy to something I already know I don’t want and then wondering why what I do want hasn’t found its way to me.

I don’t know what my future looks like. I don’t know who I’ll eventually meet or when I’ll meet him.

But I do know I’m no longer interested in prolonging my destiny by staying in situations my gut has already answered for me.

Sometimes living with intention isn’t about knowing exactly what you want.

Sometimes it’s simply having enough courage to say:

This is good.

You’re good.

But this isn’t mine.

And maybe that’s not rejection as much as it is respect, for both people.

Posted in life, life experience, Self Improvement

Apparently, I’m Becoming a Person Who Moisturizes

Posted on by affirmationofvisions

Something is happening to me lately, and I’m not entirely sure when it started.

Apparently, I’m becoming a person who moisturizes.

Consistently.

I get my nails done every other week. I pay attention to what I eat. I move my body because I want it to feel good. I take walks without headphones. I sit in silence without immediately reaching for something to entertain me. I listen more carefully. I speak more deliberately. I’m even drinking more water, which feels unnecessarily mature.

None of these things individually are particularly groundbreaking. Women have been applying moisturizer since the beginning of time. I am not expecting a documentary.

But collectively, they feel like evidence of something.

I think I’m becoming more intentional about being me.

Not reinventing myself. Not entering my “new era.” Please, God, do not make me announce an era. I have enough going on.

It feels more like I’ve stopped constantly looking outside of myself for instructions.

For most of our lives, there’s always something we’re supposed to be working toward. We want to look a certain way, accomplish something, make someone proud, prove something, attract something, fix something, become something.

And lately I don’t feel like I’m chasing anything.

I’m just curious about what happens when I take really good care of the life I already have.

That includes my health, but it also includes my skin and my nails and my peace and my relationships and my thoughts. It’s less about fixing anything and more about finally paying attention to all the small ways I can take care of myself.

And somewhere in all of that, I think I’ve softened a little too. I listen more. I try to understand before I react. I have more empathy for what people may be carrying that I know nothing about. I still have a sense of humor, thank God, because I have no interest in becoming so evolved that I stop finding people ridiculous. But I do think I move through things with a little more thought than I used to.

That doesn’t mean I always stay quiet. If I do decide to speak and give my piece on something, as I very much did yesterday, LOL, rest assured, it has been thought through. Probably overthought, revisited, mentally argued from both sides, and given more internal review than most corporate policies. So by the time it actually comes out of my mouth, I mean it. The delivery may occasionally have a little extra seasoning, but the message has already passed quality control. That’s probably why I can say what I need to say and still go to bed without regret.

Even today, I noticed it in the smallest way. I went for a walk without headphones. Normally there would be music, a podcast, something playing in the background. Instead, I just walked.

I listened to the world around me. I thought. I noticed things. I started recording these thoughts into my phone so I could remember them later, which probably made anyone passing me assume I was either conducting important business or having a very detailed conversation with myself.

Technically, it was the second one.

But I liked being there.

I liked my own thoughts without needing to drown them out.

And maybe that’s what all of this is.

I’m not becoming someone new.

I’m becoming less distracted from myself.

Less concerned with being accepted. Less interested in adjusting myself to fit whatever room I’m standing in. Less willing to ignore the little things that make me feel better just because nobody else will notice them.

And at the same time, I’m paying more attention to my body, my mind, my reactions, my habits, my peace, and the way I move through the world.

There’s no big destination attached to any of it.

I don’t know what the end result is supposed to look like.

For once, I don’t think I need to.

I’m taking care of myself because I live here.

And I’m actually becoming pretty curious to see what happens when I treat that like it matters.

Posted in inner peace, life, life experience, Self Improvement

My People-Pleasing Subscription Expired 😂

Posted on by affirmationofvisions

They say the older you get, the more you lose your filter. I’m starting to think that’s bullshit.

I don’t think I’ve lost my filter at all. If anything, I think I’ve finally figured out that I don’t have to use it to protect everyone else from the discomfort they created.

When I think about myself when I was younger, there were so many times people said things to me that were just… out of pocket. Not necessarily blatantly cruel or some huge insult that would obviously warrant a response. It was usually more subtle than that. A comment that went a little too far, an opinion nobody asked for, something judgmental disguised as a joke, or something personal enough to make me think, Why would you even say that to me?

And for whatever reason, my response was usually to be polite.

Someone would make me uncomfortable and somehow I would immediately go into damage-control mode to make sure they didn’t feel uncomfortable about making me uncomfortable. I’d laugh, explain myself, change the subject, or sometimes even join in on the joke. Apparently younger me was running a full-service emotional concierge desk. You just said something completely unnecessary to me? No worries, let me make sure this isn’t awkward for you.

I don’t know if I wasn’t confrontational or if I just thought being a good person meant always being gracious. Maybe it was a little of both. But somewhere along the way, that changed.

Not in a “now I tell everybody to go f*ck themselves” kind of way, although admittedly, the option feels much more available at 45. 😂 It’s more that I finally realized I don’t owe someone a comfortable landing after they say something inappropriate to me.

One of the biggest things I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older is that I don’t always have to respond. Silence used to make me uncomfortable because I felt like I needed to fill the space. Now I’m perfectly fine letting it sit there. If someone says something inappropriate and waits for me to laugh, I don’t have to laugh. If someone asks something I don’t feel like answering, I don’t have to answer. If someone takes a conversation somewhere I never invited it to go, I can redirect it, ignore it completely, or simply leave the conversation where it is.

It sounds incredibly simple, but it took me years to learn.

Here’s a perfect example. I’m doing 75 Hard right now, so I recently told someone I wasn’t drinking for the next 75 days. I was explaining the challenge, which involves two workouts a day, eating healthy, no alcohol, reading, all the things. Somehow, out of everything I said, the word “hard” was apparently enough inspiration for him to respond, “You had me at hard.” Then he followed it up with, “Sorry, I’m just horny.”

Sir. 😂

What exactly am I supposed to do with that information? Where do we go from here? Because we certainly weren’t headed there before.

And listen, despite how often this subject somehow finds its way into my blogs lately, I swear I am not a prude. Sexual conversations don’t offend me. Flirting doesn’t offend me. I enjoy both when there’s mutual chemistry and the door has actually been opened for that kind of conversation. But randomly announcing that you’re horny in the middle of a completely unrelated conversation when we haven’t established anything remotely close to that dynamic is just… strange. What would you like me to say? Congratulations? 😂

The younger version of me probably would have laughed or made some little joke back, not necessarily because I wanted the conversation to go there, but because I wouldn’t have wanted him to feel embarrassed. And when I really think about that, it’s crazy. Why was I always so concerned about making someone else comfortable after they were the one who made the conversation uncomfortable?

This time I didn’t lecture him, tell him he was inappropriate, or turn it into some big thing. I simply didn’t pick up what he put down. I redirected the conversation right back to fitness and asked if he was still working out like he used to. That was it. We were going back to where the conversation belonged, and I wasn’t going to participate in taking it anywhere else.

And maybe he’ll read this and realize I’m talking about him. If so… well. 😂

But this really isn’t about him. That conversation just made me realize how differently I handle these situations now, and it extends far beyond dating or men making sexual comments.

I remember when my kids were little and someone in my life would make comments comparing my parenting to theirs. They would question a decision I made or make some comment that implied the way they did something was somehow better. Instead of simply standing behind my choices, I would laugh it off and then start explaining myself. I’d justify why I made a certain decision or give all the reasons behind it, almost as if I needed them to agree with me before I could feel confident in something that was mine to decide in the first place.

Looking back now, I wonder why I ever felt like I needed to do that. They weren’t raising my children. I was. I didn’t owe anybody a PowerPoint presentation with supporting documentation explaining my parenting decisions.

I think that’s one of those things age teaches you. You start realizing how much of your life you’ve spent absorbing other people’s behavior and then carrying it around long after the interaction was over. You replayed something somebody said while they probably went home and slept perfectly fine. You wondered if you were being too sensitive. You explained yourself to people who weren’t entitled to an explanation. You laughed at things you didn’t find funny and stayed in conversations you wanted to leave because somehow calling out the discomfort felt ruder than the person creating it.

Eventually, you realize how exhausting that is.

Maybe that’s what people mistake for losing your filter as you get older. Maybe we don’t lose it at all. Maybe we just stop filtering ourselves for everybody else’s benefit.

I still believe in being kind, and I still believe not everything deserves a reaction. I don’t think every uncomfortable comment requires a confrontation, and I certainly don’t believe in matching someone’s disrespect just because they gave it to me first. I’m not interested in an eye-for-an-eye way of living, and I don’t need to win every interaction.

I’ve just become much more selective about what deserves my energy.

If someone I love says something that hurts me, I’ll have the conversation because the relationship matters to me. If there’s something worth repairing, I’ll communicate. But not everyone gets that kind of access to me anymore. Sometimes I’ll call something out, sometimes I’ll redirect the conversation, and sometimes I’ll simply leave it exactly where it is.

And sometimes I’ll let the silence sit there long enough for you to hear what you just said.

Because your discomfort with my silence is no longer more important to me than my discomfort with your words.

So maybe age does make us less tolerant, but I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing. I think you just reach a point where you realize how much time you’ve wasted worrying about things other people said, did, thought, or felt, and how often you sacrificed your own comfort to protect theirs.

Maybe wisdom isn’t becoming louder or more confrontational. Maybe it’s simply knowing when something deserves your response and when it doesn’t.

I haven’t lost my filter.

I’ve just finally learned that I don’t have to make myself uncomfortable just to make someone else comfortable.