Keep Going or Give Up?

How do you know whether to give up or keep going in relationships?

I think about this at least once a month. “I want to give up. It’s too hard. I’m disappointed all the time. I’m unhappy. I’ll never get the future I desire with him.” Those thoughts run on a loop in my head anytime I don’t get what I want or have my expectations dashed by him. Sometimes I feel like a petulant child or that I’m pinning too much of my happiness on him and other times I feel like he goes out of his way to disappoint me and show me that I’m not his main priority.

But then I think about having to start over with someone new and it sounds awful. I say to myself, “just hold out longer. Keep your mouth shut. Be agreeable. If you’re patient and cool you may get what you desire.” And then that dialogue runs on a loop until I convince myself that it’s really not that bad. But I think the problem lies in trying to decipher if I’m being too pushy and controlling or if what he is and who he is isn’t enough for me.

He complains that I get my heart set on timelines and goals and if he doesn’t meet those in the time frame that I have decided on in my head then I get upset and pick a fight or try to end it. And I’ve definitely done that. I’ve definitely been close to ending it 4 or 5 times and ended it for real for 6 days once. I don’t want to be the girl who cried wolf but I also don’t want to be the girl who held out for as long as she could stand for a guy who was never going to give her what she desired in the first place.

And he almost has a point, I guess. If he tells me things will happen but they just haven’t yet, shouldn’t I just be patient and relax and know that he just takes more time than me with all of these milestones? But what it he’s just telling me these things will happen to shut me up and keep the peace? He might keep delaying progress until his face turns blue and then I’ll be in a worse position than I was before with even more time wasted and resentment built up.

Relationships are hard and they take work and we have done so much work and have made progress but I just don’t know if it’s enough. I don’t want to feel like I’m begging him to move forward with me all the time and I don’t want to feel as if I’m waiting for the moment when I’ll finally be happy.

Sometimes it just feels like it will never be enough. Never enough time, energy, attention, or care put into cultivating our partnership. I feel like I’m giving everything I have on my end and not getting enough in return. No one wants to be with a needy person and if that’s the vibration I’m putting out, then he will feel that and want to pull away. So at times I don’t even blame him for the way he behaves, but if I’m not getting enough of what I want then obviously it’s going to manifest itself somehow.

Isn’t the point of being in a relationship to share all of the important moments with the person you love the most? Do I just have to come to terms with the fact that I will be going alone to most events and experiencing a lot of life without him or with friends instead? Is that so bad? Or do I want my boyfriend to always be there with me all the time for everything?

Maybe adult relationships are about separate people with separate lives doing their own thing and coming together only to enhance each others’ lives. That sounds really nice and independent and shit, but what about those moments when I feel more alone than I did when I was actually alone? Because you only miss someone who isn’t there. You don’t miss someone you don’t have. When I miss him it feels worse than being single.
I should be grateful and appreciate what he DOES do, right? I need to focus on the ways he tries to make me happy and respect the progress that he HAS made, no? But then why am I always in tears about things that he has failed to do and opportunities he’s missed to bring me even the slightest bit of joy? But if I give up, will I be MORE sad than I am now?

I definitely don’t expect too much. I expect way less than I would’ve in the past because he’s forced me to lower those standards. So the result always feels like I need to express to him that I’m not fulfilled and walk away to find my desires elsewhere.

And then the cycle starts over with someone else at some undetermined point in the future when I’ve kissed enough frogs to find someone suitable. And then what if I don’t like that person as much? What if I realize I’ve made a huge mistake and he won’t take me back? Assuming that this person is good enough and respects me, what if I discover the same problems and then I’m back in the same position after even more years of waiting, wishing, pushing, and hoping.

“Just keep going. Stick with the one you love so much. Give him a break. Relax. Focus on yourself/your career/your friendships for happiness.” This is the cycle of thoughts I usually settle on. But I honestly don’t know how many times I can keep doing it.

So will it always be something? Will I never be satisfied? Once I get the things I’m asking for now is there going to be some earth shattering glow of happiness that will suddenly wash over me? Why can’t he just fucking do everything I want so we don’t even have this issue to begin with?!

For now I guess all I can do is take a breath, have a glass of wine, and wait for the PMS to pass.

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No Daddy Issues Here!

“Every girl has daddy issues,” my co-worker stated in the middle of Whole Foods, where we had gone to grab Kombucha while on break.

“I don’t,” I said.

He looked at me as if I was a freak. How could he understand me and my issues and sensitivities if he couldn’t automatically attribute them to my dad. It made me laugh.

Guys are silly. Not every girl has a complicated relationship with her dad or didn’t get enough love and affection from him. In fact, some of us have such an esteemed view of our dads that most men pale in comparison. They will never live up to the man who shaped my childhood and treated me like a princess. So I guess if you want to call that daddy issues then I guess I DO have them.The issue is that my dad is too amazing.

My dad was the first example I had of how a man should behave. What his responsibilities were, how he should treat women, his work ethic, and most importantly, how he should raise his kids. I wish everyone had been raised by someone like my dad because we would probably have a lot less pain and suffering in the world. He never raised his voice, not once. When my siblings and I were behaving badly we received a stern word or two, but most of the time we just never misbehaved around him because we respected him too much.

My dad is the original Don Draper, minus the drinking problem and emotional unavailability. He got up everyday at 7am to shower and put on a clean white undershirt. His hair was perfectly parted on the side and had been in the same style for so long that he no longer needed to comb it into place, but he still did, of course. Every morning he shaved his face. I’ve never seen him have a 5 o’clock shadow in my entire life. He wore a full suit everyday, and wore perfectly shined shoes which he used a shoe horn to get into. Then he would have his coffee (never more than 2 cups) and read the newspaper. I would sit and watch his routine on days when I didn’t have school. It was fascinating. This is how a real man starts his day.

On the weekends he would mow the lawn/rake the leaves/shovel the snow depending on the season, fix the screen door, change the oil in one of the cars, or throw a baseball back and forth with one of his sons. He came to all of my games, recitals, gymnastics meets, and plays. He never missed anything, which is crazy considering he has 5 children. If I had a track meet out of town that lasted until nighttime, he would be there at the school waiting for me when the bus got back. He would go outside and warm up the car for me and scrape my windshield in the wintertime before high school.

As his only daughter I was his favorite. He couldn’t have been more proud of me, no matter what my interests and talents were. One time, in 8th grade, I was in the running to be the best high jumper in the city of Indianapolis at the final meet of the season. When it was between me and two other girls, I saw my dad out of the corner of my eye pacing the bleachers back and forth in a secluded area where no other spectators were sitting. He could barely watch, because he wanted so badly for me to win. One girl scratched, and then the next girl scratched. It was my turn. I made it over. I won! My dad would never scream or yell or jump up and down, it just wasn’t his style, but I could tell he was so proud of me. They raised the bar another inch. It was just me alone, in a competition with myself to catch the city record. I scratched all three jumps. I was a little disappointed in myself, but still happy that I won. For the next week or so, my dad kept showing me on his measuring tape how close in inches I had come to the record. “You were only off by this much,” he would say as he showed me the 2 inches that would’ve made the difference. He wasn’t telling me how just a little more would’ve broken the record, he was showing me how good I was and how close I had become to being the best.

My dad is probably worried on some level about the career choice that I made, the challenging city I live in, and the fact that I am not following the same model of adulthood that he and my mom did. Most dads worry about the protection and finances of their children, and especially their daughters, well into adulthood. But even though it’s probably not the stable life he had imagined for me, he has never once been negative or unsupportive about it. He may not understand my dreams, but he appreciates that I’ve had the courage to follow them.

My dad taught me how to ride a bike, how to fish, how to skate, and how to chew with my mouth closed. When I was first starting to drive, and before Google Maps, Mapquest, and Garmins, my dad would draw detailed maps for me to help me get to where I was going. He read bedtime stories to my brothers and me every single night. He and I would go on bike rides through our neighborhood together and watch new episodes of Seinfeld every Thursday. Just him and me. He would even take me on “dates” when I was a little girl. Out to dinner and the movies. There wasn’t a moment where I didn’t feel special.

At age 33, I still need my dad’s help. If I have car trouble, apartment issues, questions about my taxes etc., he is the first person I call. When my car broke down in the middle of the 101 freeway in the middle of the day, I called him before I even called AAA. Even though we don’t talk every single day, I know he will drop everything he’s doing to help me if I need him.

My dad is blind as a bat. Literally legally blind. He wears contacts until they irritate his eyes, and then he switches to the most ridiculous coke bottle, magnifying glasses. He passed that amazing gene onto me, the only child who also has blue eyes like he does. What gift that has been, Dad. Thanks!

My dad loves bananas and peanut butter, Jim Beam and Diet Coke, and The 3 Stooges. He loves to BBQ, watch Indiana sports teams play, play softball/baseball, run, talk about the weather, and most importantly, he loves to hang out with his kids.

No daddy issues here. My issues can be attributed to everything BUT that. My only issue is that I don’t get to see him as often as I would like.

Thanks, Dad, for being my role model, supporter, friend, and hero. I wouldn’t trade you for anything.

He’s Not A BAD Guy, He’s Just Not YOUR Guy

Sorry I haven’t been posting as much lately! Life has gotten in the way.

I met someone new and he inspired me to write this post about my past fuckboy-commitmentphobe-emotionallyunavail lovers. I learned a lot from those experiences, but I’m finally ready for a real relationship with a guy who wants me as much as I want him. 🙂

Thanks for reading!

http://elitedaily.com/dating/not-the-right-guy/1198194/

xoxo,

Lover Lo

xoxo,