Relationship Success May Not Lead to Marriage

“Before you can become part of our child mentoring program, you will need to see a counselor.”

Her statement hit me like a hard slap in the face knocking my ego out of the chair and onto the floor. The young woman sitting behind the desk of authority wielded her sharp words with surprising ease. My mind was baffled by the blow. I had entered the interview with the confidence of a woman proud of her accomplishments and comfortable in her own skin. I had truly believed that I could be a positive influence on a young mind. What had I done wrong?

Regaining my composure from its fall to the floor, I could only reply with a single word. “Why?”

“You have not had a relationship with a man that has ended successfully. I think you could benefit from some counseling.”

By the end of the twenty-minute drive home, my state of confusion mutated through a haze of disbelief until defensiveness could finally get a grip on the situation. What the hell does marital status have to do with volunteering for a mentoring program? Staring at the naked ring finger on my left hand, not even a tan line existed to remind me of a temporary marital achievement. Never had my eyes fallen upon a kneeling suitor offering a ring of commitment.

My analytical mind automatically began sorting my life into pros and cons. The pros column was a strong contender. High school valedictorian, college graduate, passed the CPA exam and was on the way up in the ranks of an accounting career. I owned my own house, mowed my own yard, obediently served my cat, had a handful of good friends and an excellent relationship with my parents.

I was squarely in the middle of one of life’s sunshine and happiness moments. My current state of contentment left the cons column almost void of negativity. According to the mentoring gatekeeper, being single was a con, and I was most definitely single. No noise at all on the prospective husband radar. Dead silence.

I find a peaceful clarity in silence. Not all relationships are meant to last a lifetime. Marrying solely because I was on the downhill slide to thirty is not my definition of success. Liking the person staring back at you in the mirror every morning, that is the pinnacle of success.

Dating is sort of like a try before you buy process. If you know he’s not the right fit, then breaking up means the dating process is working properly, and might I add, successfully. Some relationships are not meant to be. It’s nice if both parties see the ill-fitting image in the mirror. Mutual break ups do happen once in a while. I had one once.

Some people are the universal blood donors of the relationship world. Compatible with many. Quickly and easily matched with another. My relationship blood type is rare. Finding a compatibility match is not so simple. My deliberate nature prefers a bullseye to okay, that’s close enough.

The agony of being hurt or hurting another is a more typical relationship scenario. Painful as those times were, I say with immense gratitude to those who broke my heart, “Thank you for seeing what I couldn’t see and having the courage to end the relationship before I developed a tan line on this pristinely naked ring finger on my left hand.”

Yeah, I think I could have been an excellent role model for a young girl. Life is about choices and having the self-worth to think independently of the path dictated by that which society deems the norm. Don’t get me wrong. Having another human being legally obligated to reside with you is fulfilling. I love sharing life with my husband.

Yes, I did eventually find a compatible partner. And, I never did heed that young woman’s advice and go see a counselor. My head was in a good place. Why would I want to mess with that? Turns out all those allegedly failed relationships were leading me to my perfect match. The flip side of failure is the hand of fate presenting you with a different opportunity.

Early on in the interview process that day so long ago, the young woman behind the desk of authority had proudly told me she was engaged to be married. I applauded her good fortune with sincere congratulations. I wonder sometimes if her marriage turned out to be the successful relationship she deemed the significant measure of a sound mind or the pale mark of failure tattooed on an empty ring finger.

Originally published at Medium.com on 11-3-2019.

The Void of Loss Is a Time Bandit

Two years have passed since I witnessed my Dad’s last rattling breath escape his 82 year old body. For almost a year after he crossed to the other side, his last moment of life haunted me as I closed my eyes to sleep. Emotional recovery from the loss of a parent happened in the requisite amount of time, in no unusual way. As time passed, bad memories faded, and good ones rose up into view. Time helps us forget, and remember. Time bears productive fruit, relaxes our burdens and sometimes hesitates long enough to bring clarity to the forefront.

Believing in Yourself

It was the beginning of a weekday like any other in the mid 1980’s. Dad had left for work and Mom was in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast. The day’s college classes awaited my arrival as the early morning time marched forward at a consistent pace. Standing in front of the dresser mirror in my bedroom, the ritual of applying makeup and fixing my hair was performed with mechanical thoughtlessness. As my eyes locked with the reflection staring back at me, time slowed down.

In an instant, the young woman in the mirror compelled me to see the truth and understand the certainty of what must be done. Time hesitated and the fog of complacency lifted. I had to break up with my boyfriend and it had to be done that day. The decision was not as instantaneous as it seemed, of course. Sudden revelations are rarely without a certain amount of expectation. Flapping red flags had been ignored for some time now.

Irrefutable proof was not in my possession, but the firm finger of circumstantial evidence pointed to the probability that he was cheating on me and his pledge to AA. Two giant boulders blocking the rocky path ahead, the latter somehow more daunting than the former. It was not time that woke me from the slumber of accepting the status quo. Believing that I deserved better and realizing I could make that desire a reality are the heroes of my fate.

Time is merely a vessel pretending to have power over life. A chameleon erroneously credited for days dragging, years racing, wounds healing and youth stolen. Time is a void most visible during periods of loss when truth cannot be ignored. The emptiness in your heart, the fluttering in your stomach, the panic that sets in when you ask yourself, “What do I do now?”

For years I equated loss solely with heartbreak, not understanding the psychological culprit causing the pain of sadness. Loss is a void in time. The choice to fill the void and escape sadness belongs to you, not the ticking of a clock.

An Unexpected Loss

The trickery perpetrated by time revealed its true nature to me in the days following the CPA exam. The emptiness, the fluttering and the panic were inexplicably mounting inside me. Why was this happening? I hadn’t lost a loved one. No one was breaking up with me. Nothing bad was hurtling in my direction. My gaze was drawn to the accounting books on the table. These study materials had been my constant companion, the center of my life, for months and now it was over. With a certain cavalier arrogance, the books were saying, “It’s not you, it’s me. Our relationship has run its course and we’re moving on without you.”

What do I do now? The familiar daily routine of work, household chores and studying had derailed. Sadness and a feeling of desperation took center stage as I searched ahead and behind for a new, or perhaps an old, fulcrum to bring balance back to my purpose in life. I was trapped in a void in the infinite existence of time. Lost in an interval when life is on pause while time continues to move forward.

For those unfortunate souls unable to move on and open new doors, loss can be an inescapable black hole. For me, it’s a temporary dark cloud challenging me to find an alternate means to light the path. Loss is a void and voids can be filled. Look at the opportunities surrounding you, reach out to those who share in your loss, help a stranger or a friend. Find your direction.

The power of healing doesn’t belong to time. Overcoming loss is up to you. Understand, accept and discover or time will move on without you.

Originally published at Medium.com on 7-22-2019.