Ignoring Signs

Imagine being married to your college sweetheart. The two of you have three beautiful kids. You live in a gorgeous home on a sprawling million dollar estate in the suburbs.  And then one day, the police call to say that they would like to question your husband about the murder of a man.

As a loyal wife, you tell the police that they have the wrong person and you will not cooperate with them based on their lack of any evidence tying your husband to the murder. You continue taking your kids to school, soccer practice, and life goes on as usual.

Three years later after serious issues with your marriage, you divorce your husband. The police approach you again, and this time you consent to a search of your property. The remains of eleven men are found.  You go on Oprah to say, “I had absolutely no idea. There were no signs.”

Sounds crazy, huh? This was the real-life story of Julie Baumeister.  Police believe that her husband may be tied to the disappearances of gay men in Indianapolis in the ‘90s. As a teenager, I remember seeing the interview on Oprah and thinking, “How could she not know. There had to be signs!”  Years later, the Oprah show interviewed her again. This time, she admitted that there were definitely signs.

Julie had been married to her husband for over 20 years. They met in college and were married a few years later. "We did everything together," she says. "He would push the mower, and I would trim the bushes." Her husband did make several trips to the city, but it was always explained as a work trip. Aside from that, there was a day when her 13 year-old son came to her with a skull. When she followed him to see where he found it, she also saw bones.

When Julie confronted her husband, he explained it away by saying that they were from a medical school skeleton once owned by his dad, a former anesthesiologist. Julie, satisfied with the answer, never pressed the issue any further.

So what makes Julie any different from any of us? Sure, we may not been with a murderer, but we have all ignored the signs that flash in our faces or the actions of a loved one.  We have justified the unjustifiable by altering our perspectives, pushing it to the back of our minds, changing the subject, or recreating reality with memories that stress the good side of a person or focus on their potential.

I have a friend who sat in meeting after meeting at AA, before he called himself an alcoholic. He referred to his heavy drinking before going out by calling it "pre-gaming".  While he listened to stories from men and women at the meetings, he opted out of being an alcoholic with statements like, “At least I’m not like him” or “I have never done anything like that” or “He drinks way worse than I do!”  or "At least I never drank the cooking sherry or mouthwash."  The day that one person had his exact same story, childhood, behaviors, and outlook, he could no longer hide from the truth that he too, was an alcoholic.

All of us partake in the “opting out” method. We use twists, lies, and differences in perspectives to place space in between ourselves and the next person.  Whether your significant other is abusing you, cheating on you, disrespecting you, or lying to you, ignoring a sign is ignoring a sign, no matter how you spin it.

Embracing Your Beauty

 

“Oh my God, I’m so fat!”

“My thighs look like cottage cheese!”

“I hate my arms!”

These are statements that you almost never hear coming out of the mouths of men.  In general, women degrade our bodies on a much broader scale than men.  We do it to ourselves, to other women, and some of us do it to our own children.

We can also pass on our own insecurities by being overly preoccupied with out weight or appearance.  Little kids think the world of their moms and dads. They look at us as beauty queens and super heroes.  So when then they see us calling ourselves fat, grunting at the mirror, eating cereal for dinner to squeeze into a dress, or jumping on the latest diet bandwagon, it makes them question their own beauty and weight. If their mom’s aren’t good enough, how can they possibly be good enough?

Commercials and magazines definitely don’t make it easier. Nowadays, almost every magazine airbrushes inches off of thighs, sharpens cheekbones, erases stretch marks, and cinches waists.  We can’t go a night without watching commercials about women eating yogurt or cereal to lose weight, or watching the latest celebrity with an endorsement by Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig.

So when I watched the new Dove Ad, it put things into a completely different perspective.  An FBI profiler draws women based on what they say about themselves, which includes: “My chin kind of protrudes a little bit, especially when I smile.” “I kind of have a fat rounder face.”

Whether we refuse to see our mistakes or refuse to see our greatness, we are not seeing ourselves for who we are.  When we put ourselves down, we ignore our own gifts and dismiss our beauty. I see it all of the time when people are given compliments. Instead of feeling grateful and whole, we insert an excuse or diminish our light.

Your cake is amazing!                     “The recipe was really easy.”

Your dress is stunning!                  “You like this? It’s old.”

Your hair looks amazing!               “You don’t see the frizz in the back?!”

When are YOU going to start accepting and embracing your beauty and your strength. The next time someone pays you a compliment, don’t minimize their words. Simply say, “Thank you.”  And if you are a parent, you owe it to your children to look in the mirror tonight and say, “I look incredible.”

Why Everyone Doesn't Love Their Mom

In fourth grade, I remember sitting wide-eyed as my classmate talked about her mom. She said that if her uncle died, she would be devastated but if her mom died, she wouldn’t be as hurt. She then made the bold statement that she loved her uncle more than her mother. I remember thinking that this was the craziest thing I’d ever heard. I remember thinking that everyone in this world loved their mom.  I blurted out to her, “You have to love your mom more.”

It wasn’t until I was in high school that I began to understand that everyone’s family structure was not necessarily like my own. It became clear when I began working for a non-profit organization called, Children’s Express. As teenagers, we traveled all over the country to interview people. Our goal was to give the statistics a face. That’s when I met “Claire”.  She was pale with short hair and glasses. At the age of fifteen, she had acne all over her face. But it was what I saw sixty seconds after I sat down that stayed with me. Just beneath her wrist, Claire had her entire first name carved into her arm. I couldn't imagine how anyone could do that to themselves. In the next thirty minutes, I found out why.

I immediately asked her about her arm. I had never even heard of the term "cutting" before. As her story unfolded, I learned more about why she was at the group home.  On her twelfth birthday, her father came into her room and said, “It’s time for you to learn about what you will need to do for your husband.” And with those words, she was raped by her father.

The abuse continued with her father bringing his friend and his friend’s 16 year-old son to sleep with her. When Claire told her mom what happened, her mother refused to believe her. After two suicide attempts, Claire was finally pulled from her home. When I met her, she was living in a group home in Texas. Her father had never been removed from the home and did not receive jail time.

Claire’s experience taught me that the definition of love and of family, can be completely different depending on who you talk to. In second grade, my paradigm of love, family, and the world was drastically different from the way it is right now. I have learned that some people love their uncles more than their moms, and they have every right to do so. As we meet people who may not be in touch with their mom, dad, or various family members, it is important for us to remember that not all families are like ours. Some individuals do not communicate with certain family members for specific reasons. It is unfair to measure our own experiences against the experiences of others. There may be experiences, memories, emotions, and unresolved issues in their lives that we may never be privy to. We shouldn’t judge others by the family they have in their lives, but by the qualities and characteristics they possess today.

Divorce, Crazy Time, and Reinventing Yourself

The one thing I have learned from my friends is that divorce can be one of the most insane times in a person’s life. That time in between your separation and the first year after you are divorced….my friends refer to that as “crazy time.”  It’s like being trapped in a snow globe and helplessly watching as someone grabs you and gives you six good shakes.  The crazy time is the time it takes for your thoughts, friendships, memories, and feelings to settle down so you can breathe again.

For a lot of my friends, going through a divorce was something they were completely unprepared for. At one point, they found themselves thinking for two, planning for two, combining families, gaining new friends, and having visions of growing old with their significant others.  Somewhere between the “I do” and the visions, they found themselves alone, cooking for one, and sleeping in a bed that was suddenly way too big for just one person.  

Separation can feel like limbo. You aren’t totally together and married and then again you aren’t truly divorced yet. It’s a time that can send your emotions from zero to 60 in a matter of seconds. Case in point: my friend, “Lisa.” She recalls being in an ice cream shop when a guy walked up to her and struck up a conversation. As they made their way to the front of the line, he asked her if she was married. Just then, her thoughts and emotions went haywire.  “Am I really married when I haven’t seen my husband in months? But technically I still love him and want to get back together and besides, by law we are still married. But are we really married when he has moved on and has told me that he doesn’t want to be with me anymore…” And before she knew it, she was reduced to tears in the middle of an ice cream shop on a Saturday afternoon.

For a lot of people, divorce is like a death: You lose friends, family, pets, time with your kids, and sometimes you lose the sense of who you are. But just like everything in life, it all gets better with time. 

Divorce is not all bad. There are plenty of people who come out on the other side with a greater sense of who they are, what they want, and what they won’t settle for ever again. When a friend of mine found himself consumed by self-pity, shame, sadness, and anger, his friend (who was also divorced) took him for a ride and gave him a perspective that changed everything for him.

“The best part of a divorce is the fact that you get to reinvent yourself. You get to be whoever you want from this day forward. You don’t have to be “the divorced guy” or the person who just got out of a failed marriage. You don’t have to be depressed or feel sorry for yourself. You can change all of that today and decide to learn from everything you’ve been through and begin to formulate the person you want to be.”

The same is true for every single person reading this blog. After any break-up, you have the choice whether to allow it to consume you or enable it to help you become the person you have always wanted to be. The choice is yours.  Your voice, your passion, your happiness are all out there waiting for you.

The Definition of Gayness

The other day, I found myself at a party where the topic of conversation was whether or not one experience with someone of the opposite sex makes a person gay.  I tried to listen patiently as everyone spouted their opinion.

“Of course you are gay! If you let another man touch you then you are totally gay.”

“I can understand a woman experimenting in college but if it is a guy then he is definitely gay!”

“Even if you kiss a person of the same sex, then you are gay.”

What was missing from the discussion was the gray area. I wondered what people at this party say to a teenager who was molested or perhaps raped by his male cousin?  What exactly is the rule when someone of your same gender touches you in a spot that is supposed to be off limits and you are seven years-old...and it happens over and over and over.

For the past sixteen years I have come in contact with countless men and women whose lives have been forever changed, not by strangers, but by family members or friends of the family who have touched them, kissed them, and violated them in every way possible. Most of the cases involved same sex touching. Can you imagine the thoughts that have plagued them throughout the years when it comes to their own sexuality?

In my work, I expect that no matter where I am, at least half of the people in the room have most likely been molested. Some have revealed it to me in private, others are open to sharing with the group, and some have told only one or two people.  So when I hear people placing a label on hypothetical individuals who they have never met, it pains me because I always think about the kids and adults who are still processing events that they had no control over.

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When The People We Love Disappoint Us

Whether it is a parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, or father figure, our fantastical and idealistic notions elevate them from mere mortal to something entirely different. We let them take on the role of superhuman and superheroes. They become figures in our lives who are incapable of mistakes and bad choices.

There is that moment in our life where the expectations, ideals, and fantasies that we have created for them, collide together and come crashing down on top of us. The person we love, respect, and honor with every fiber of our being, betrays us with their imperfections.

Whether it is a father figure who doesn’t follow through with their promise, an aunt who has an affair, an uncle who cracks open our piggy bank, or a mom who goes back on her word, it is a moment that redefines the way we view them and the way we view the world. We feel the devastation of their decisions.  We take it personally and we hold it against them. We can let that one defining moment change the way we interact with others, cloud our judgment, or affect who we trust.

Out of all of the movies I have seen over the years, Crash is still the one movie that has had the most impact on my life. In most movies, we have good and bad characters. They remain that way from beginning to end. In Crash, the question of who is good and who is bad is blurred throughout the movie. Characters teeter on that line, fall over, and then jump over to the other side. It is a movie that shows that bad people do good things and good people do bad things. So much so, that there is no clear line that delineates who falls in what category We are all a combination of our choices, good and bad.

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Strangers, Bob, My Dad, and Forgiveness

I grew up in a family where my dad would start a conversation with anyone. At the grocery store he called the check-out clerks by their names. He stopped people on the street to pay them compliments. He helped old ladies who were struggling with their grocery bags and gave them rides to their doorstep.

It’s been almost two years since my dad passed. But the side of him that I loved, was the side that would treat everyone the same, from homeless people on the street to kids in the neighborhood, to business men. He was by no means perfect, but he took time for people.

I grew up watching my mom and dad share a genuine concern for individuals. In turn, I took on an interest for people, for how they think, act, feel, and for what drives them, hurts them, and consumes them.

There is something about a stranger that allows you to forget about the insecurities, pretenses, and fears that you carry around on a daily basis. When I get on a plane or sit at a bar, I look at the person in the seat next to me as a new experience. And for as long as I can remember, strangers have always shared things with me that they have kept bottled up inside.

It is not a normal occurrence to share a beer with someone you have known for twenty minutes and end up talking about the most intimate details of your childhood. But for me, it’s as normal as it gets. People share, and I listen. I ask questions, I make connections and I walk away with a little piece of a person’s history. I have had life changing conversations with people whose names I sometimes know and sometimes do not.

It was my father that made me listen to Bob, the bipolar 67 year-old close talker. I intended to sit at the bar alone, and have a divine breakfast of Belgian waffles with warm syrup and fresh strawberries that I ordered from my barstool. But just as I reached for my hot chocolate, he came from behind me and said, “I’m going out for a cigarette.” It was as if we had come to the coffee shop together, as if I knew that the cane and the books and on the counter next to me, belonged to him. The man to the right of me said, “You just met Bob.”

My eyes were half-closed when I heard Bob’s voice again. I was taking in the sweetness of the strawberries and whipped cream.

“Having a big breakfast, huh? I just had mine. It looks good. Nothing like fresh strawberries.”

And with every sentence, the grayness of his beard came closer to my cheek, teasing me, threatening to let me feel its roughness. I chose not to ignore him. Instead I turned and looked at him, “You are right. Strawberries are the best.” It is a conversation my father would have started with a stranger and a part of me hoped that the stranger would show my dad the same kindness.

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Why Valentine’s Day Kinda Sucks

For some people, it is just another day.  For others, it’s the most dreaded day of the year.  Up until now, I have absolutely detested the day. Actually, the entire week was pretty awful for me. I hated the days leading up to Valentine’s day, the day itself, and every day of the week that came after it. If I wasn’t dating anyone, it felt like torture. I woke up in the morning with my mantra on the tip of my tongue, “I am going to be totally fine today.”  And by the end of the night, I was either in tears or hating on every couple that walked by.

In college, my entire dorm was filled with roses, candy, and giddy girls.  And then there is that moment that I would walk past the desk and think, “Maybe one of the 72 dozen roses behind the desk just might be for me.” They never were. So from sun up to sun down, I was surrounded by chocolate, huge cards, flowers of every variety, and snuggling couples. It sucked.

In the working world, it’s a different variation of the same thing.  It is very clear who is in a relationship and who is not.  And there is no getting around the fact that you are really hoping that somewhere, in some distant land, some secret admirer has decided to send you a box of Godiva chocolates. I did unexpectedly receive flowers when I was single. They turned out to be from my dad. Once I got past the fact that my I didn't have a secret admirer, I have to admit that my father did brighten my day.

When I was dating someone, I hated Valentine’s day just as much.  Looking back, the day was so awful for me because I chose to date guys who never, ever thought about me for 364 days out of the year. I was hoping that for just one day, maybe they would focus their attention on me. Instead, I received gifts that had nothing to do with me. I am really not a fan of chocolate covered cherries and teddy bears, yet those were the types of gifts that I received. They were gifts that celebrated the commercialism of the holiday, but not gifts that celebrated our relationship or anything I liked.

The best Valentine’s Day I have ever had was the weekend I met my significant other. We met for the first time on February 13^th. On the phone, he said to me, “So what should I bring you for Valentine’s Day? What do you like?” Because it was our first date, I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring a gift but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.  “Remember the hearts with “Be Mine” on them? You could bring me a pack of those for all I care.”  When he showed up, he had a card and a gift bag. He handed me the bag and said, “I bought every single package of sweet tarts they had.”  There where fifteen boxes of sweet tarts and on every box, he had written, “From K.B. to K.C.”

I have grown to tolerate Valentine’s Day. For me, the importance of the day has nothing to do with presents or gifts. It’s about the fact that I no longer fall prey to the emotional stress of one day.  One particular day, it hit me...there are millions of women getting gifts all over the world who have significant others who will go back to treating them terribly the very next day. For some couples, it's a show where the holiday plays center stage. That helped me to not freak out over what someone did or didn't buy me. It put things in perspective.

The unfortunate part about Valentine's Day is that it makes a lot of people feel like there is a huge spotlight shining down on them with sirens and red lights, pointing out the very fact that they are single. In reality, it's a day that a lot of people hide the fact that they are in unhealthy relationships that are covered up with candy and flowers.

It took me a long time to find a mate who changed the meaning of Valentine's Day. He doesn’t buy me teddy bears or chocolate covered cherries. Instead, he understands that love notes and little things aren't just for one day. Anybody can buy a dozen roses on February 14^th but a guy who can send you a Pablo Neruda poem on a Wednesday in July can make you feel more important than any Valentine’s Day gift in the world.  I wish someone had told me that a long time ago.

Bettering Your Other Half: The Return On Your Investment

This past weekend, I was watching television. My channel surfing landed me on the Nat Geo Channel with a cheetah taking down a wild boar. I put the remote down and watched as the boar struggled and fought with this cheetah for over two hours. Just when the boar was ready to give up the fight, two hungry lionesses came out of the tall grass, chased the exhausted cheetah away, and took over the cheetah’s spoils.

All I kept thinking about was how much that had to suck for the Cheetah. She spent hours going after that boar, only to lose her reward to two lionesses who didn’t have to partake in even a minute’s worth of work. And that got me thinking about last week’s episode of ABC’s Scandal. If you watch the show, then you know that Fitz asked the First Lady for a divorce to be with his mistress, Kerry Washington aka Olivia Pope. Millie, (furious, frustrated, and in the middle of venting), screamed out, "I made him better and she gets to reap the benefits!"

If you are not a scandal fan, you can probably relate to the statement anyway. Either you have said it yourself or you’ve heard that same sentiment from one of your friends. The bottom line is when we put time and energy into a relationship, we want to be the person who claims all of the benefits. We introduce our significant other to new restaurants, new clothes, a new circle of friends, a totally different outlook on life, we help them excel in their career, we lift them up and place them in a waaaaay better position in life…. and then it happens…they break up with us, marry someone else, get engaged, or cheat on us. All of that effort, energy, money, and time is now wasted on “the new one.” Although this is a common perspective, it’s not at all how I view break-ups.

When you are a wealthy investor, the first thing you want to know is “What am I going to get for my investment?” In other words, you want to know what your return is going to be. The moment you expect a “return” from a relationship, you are setting yourself up for disappointment. Months or years after a break-up, if I still hear things like, “When I first met him, he didn’t have anything! I taught him how to dress, I taught him how to eat…” (Zakia from TLC’s Starter Wives), that tells me that the individual went it with a grass-roots or start-up mentality and expected to come out with a company like Apple. Relationships are not non-profits or companies: there is no tax write-off or publicity if we build someone up. Nor are they vending machines: we can’t put in a commodity (money, time, resources) and expect rings, kids, love, or respect to be handed to us. If we focus on what we invested, we are probably not focusing on issues such as whether our needs are being met, if we share the same values and priorities, or whether passion and happiness exist on a daily basis.

You simply can’t judge a relationship based on how much “work” you put in. All that means is that somebody was “half” of a person walking into the relationship and you think you deserve credit for making them whole. It’s not credit that you deserve. What you really deserve is a stamp across your forehead that says, “I settled.” Because that is really what you did. You settled for someone who was not on your level, who did not have your interests, and who did not have your outlook on life. Instead of finding a whole person, you stayed with this individual, pouring your resources into what was really a “money pit.”

If you are still stuck on how much you did for an ex, that bitterness is keeping you from moving on. It’s human nature to make bad decisions but it is a choice to be angry, bitter, or to dwell on the past. Move on and find a whole person who already has what you are looking for.

Why Some People Need a Diary Instead of a Facebook Account

I never know what I am going to find when my facebook newsfeed pops up. I love catching up with old and new friends but sometimes I am tempted to delete my account altogether. Why, you ask? Because some people abuse their facebook privileges by exposing every thought, meal, conversation, and every ounce of their relationship drama.

At times, I get confused and think I am watching ESPN as I am given me the facebook status play-by-play of break-ups, arguments, divorces, and incidents of infidelity. It's the kind of stuff that makes me sigh....very deeply.

For people going through those events, they are looking for someone to vent to in their personal times of anger, sadness, hurt, or shame. That is what a real friend is for. I'd like to make an announcement, people: Facebook, is not your friend! It is a tool that exposes all of your business to hundreds of people. It's like having a skywriting plane, a bullhorn, a billboard, and a television ad all in one. When your arguments are over and your breakups are finished, your entire network still remembers how you embarassed your partner, exposed your secrets, and gave away intimate details about things they never asked you about.

On facebook you can put ANYTHING in a status message and you are guaranteed to get at least one person to "like" your status or leave a comment in support of whatever you say. In a way, facebook lulls us into a false sense of believing that everything we write is validated, proper, and appropriate. What you don't see are the people who are deleting you as friends, hiding your status updates, or talking about how inappropriate you are to share what you did.

I often tell people that how a potential mate talks about their ex should be one of the factors you look at when you are deciding whether or not to pursue a relationship. If a person degrades their ex, calls them all kinds of names, and blames them for everything that ocurred in the relationship, consider that a red flag. You are next in line for that kind of treatment. Facebook is no different. A person who exposes their business to the online world will also do that to you. With that being said, facebook is not the place for your relationship drama. Buy a diary and use it.