OhSugarSugar

So the typical response of many of my guy friends when they hear about my ManFreeMay is some well-intended yet totally not helpful piece of advice that sounds something like this: “You know, L, that you are the only person in charge of your thoughts, right?” or “You know you don’t have to allow those guys so much headspace, right?” or “You know it’s a choice to be impacted by the opinions of others, right?” Yes, gentlemen, thank you. I know. I know. I know.

But, it comes back to that big fat HUGE difference between knowing it up in my head and knowing it deep deep deep down within my core, knowing it with every ounce of my being, in such a way that the truth lives in every drop of blood coursing through every vessel of every organ of my body, knowing it so that my unconscious, automatic way of acting and being and speaking reflects my knowledge of that oh so obvious truth.

I am not there yet.

Hence ManFreeMay.

Dating for me so far has been a bit of a participant-observer anthropological experiment. I have frequently sought the opinion and advice of friends who have oodles more experience than me, I have watched- with fascination- veteran players at work, and I have had a heightened awareness of my own experience, literally taking notes after a date (I know- what a keener, huh?) as to what I liked, what I didn’t like, what I learned about myself, about men, and about the interaction between men and women. And even with this incredibly heightened awareness, I have found myself doing and saying things that made me go, “Girl, seriously? Still? Now? After all this? Come on!? You KNOW better!!”

It seems there are these habits in thinking and acting and being that are so deeply engrained that they are, quite simply, a “bitch” to fix. So I figure that this whole idea of ManFreeMay gives me a chance to step back, to deliberately put some distance between me and the men that distract my romantic, sensual, impulsive self, and to take some time to reflect on some of the lessons learned thus far, a performance evaluation, if you will, a cleanse, enough time and space that I can somewhat more objectively observe recurring patterns, unhealthy choices, and areas for improvement. It comes back to this idea that legitimate, long term changes require the exertion of deliberate, conscious, sustained effort (well, let’s be honest, not that sustained- it is, after all, only a month). If I want to make my headspace and heartspace an exclusive, invitation-only, VIP zone, I first need to seal off the premises for a while, inspect the area for secret entrances and safety hazards, and determine the qualities necessary for those potentially on the guest list.

I’ve been trying to treat this like a springtime sweet cleanse. Once a year or so, usually around this time, I like to take a few weeks where I completely cut out sugar. (I’m obviously not doing that this year- my poor self-discipline can’t handle such an intense double whammy!!) The point is this: there’s nothing wrong, really, with a piece of cake for dessert. There is something wrong, however, with eating a hunk of tiramisu for breakfast, and having an afternoon craving for something sweet so intense that it distracts me from my work. Food needs to know its place (and to extend the metaphor, men- however deliciously sweet and tasty they are- need to know their place; or maybe, the point is that I need to know their place). What I usually find is that the first few days of my sweet cleanse are almost painful, and then, committed to becoming a healthier me, the sugar fog lifts, and I start recognizing patterns in temptation and moments of weakness, I start seeing healthy alternatives, making better choices, and inevitably, in the end, I feel re-energized, stronger, healthier, and more in control of my choices, the welcome new alternative to my automatic choices controlling me.

I want men to be my dessert, not my breakfast; the side dish, not my meat and potatoes; the fabulous pair of earrings that complete an outfit, not the outfit itself; a welcome addition but not a necessity. I am not foolish enough to believe that a man will complete me or give me everything I need, but I also don’t want to become one of these women so independent, with a life and sense of self so solidly cemented, that there simply isn’t any room for a man. I recognize the value, the beauty, the gift of a good man. I know that even the happiest, fullest, richest life can be made happier and fuller and richer by a good relationship with a goodgood man.

And, so, here comes the tricky part: how do I maintain the space between contentment with my life here and now in the company of me, myself and (totally awesome) I, and the state of still leaving room for some equally awesome MisterMister? How do I comfortably exist between need and want, acknowledging that I don’t necessarily need someone, but admitting that, yes, I do want someone in my life. There’s this dangerous vulnerability in admitting what I want, because admitting that introduces the need for hope, and hope is so intricately connected with disappointment, and I know disappointment far too well. Even though I have experienced such incredible growth and healing these last few years, my capacity for disappointment remains somewhat limited. I don’t deal well with disappointment, so sometimes it’s just safer to not say aloud what I want, to just pretend, to live just an itsy bitsy bit in denial. It makes the sting of disappointment a little less intense.

In the spirit of resisting denial, let me say this, that the deep, dark, secret truth is that I am desperately afraid I will be alone forever. And friends can say things like, “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’ll find someone. People as fabulous as you don’t stay single. Men will be lining up for a chance to be in your company.”  And I appreciate the determined faith of these dear sweet friends. I really do. But let’s be realistic- there is a very real possibility that this is it, that I’ve had my run, that it’ll just be me, myself and I (no matter how awesome) until the bittersweet end.

So, this is where I am stumped. Because I want to be totally okay with the goodness and richness of my life here and now, a life full of love and fabulous people and thrilling adventures and exciting dreams, but I want to be brave enough to welcome more. I don’t want to wear cynicism and denial as a helmet protecting my heart from possible, faraway disappointment. And I want to be fully and completely me, someone who is generous and gracious and open, who gives people the benefit of the doubt, who doles out second chances, who sees the good, even when it’s deeply buried, but I don’t want to get trampled on and taken for granted. How do I maintain this me in spite of heartache and disappointment, in spite of repeated heartache and disappointment? I want to stay soft, I want to stay hopeful, I want to live from my heart, from a big generous heart that feels deeply and fully, not from a crusty, dried up, angry heart.

This is the struggle.

And so this is why I am feeling so intensely the need for my performance evaluation, my man cleanse. Maybe if I can refine my criteria for those granted entrance into my head and heart, if I can learn how to set healthy boundaries, if I can learn that not everyone- quite honestly- deserves my goodness and graciousness and generousity, that it shouldn’t be wasted on those who don’t cherish or respect it, then maybe I can maintain that space, maybe I can remain me, protected by my healthy boundaries, fed by the affirmation of those I know love me, and secure in my ever growing sense of self.