In Which Anne Finally Gets That God Is On Her Side.

Exactly this moment a year ago today, I was probably in the middle of a pathetically sweet conversation with the nicest man I have ever met. Ever. And we were borderline hideous in how adorable we were to each other.

And then a couple of months later, without warning (and trust me--I know how to spot red flags after my sordid past) he broke up with me. The days that followed were pretty dark, yet I felt peace and comfort and was able to carry on without falling apart.

It hasn't always been easy, this past year. I've missed him horribly, and my prayers have run the gamut of the stages of grief: denial, bargaining, anger, sadness...but never quite arriving at acceptance. Because throughout all of my failed relationships, I always want to know WHY. Why not me? Why someone else? I never get an answer to that question. And I'll be honest, I don't want to accept that it's completely over because I want to keep my heart open in case he happens to come back.

A couple of weeks ago, I was the pianist at my niece's baptism. I spent the entirety at the piano, away from my family, and as I sat secluded from the rest of the people in attendance, I prayed. I prayed about the angst I feel about never having children, about dying alone, about all the traveling I keep putting off because I want to go places with someone dear to me. (And I do travel quite a bit alone, so don't think that I'm just sitting at home, staring out my window.)

It's difficult to articulate how I felt at the end of that prayer, but I will try. I felt as if I was being physically supported by God. As if I was floating, or as I described to my sister--like going tubing on the most peaceful river. And the message was clear: "Just. Hang. On."

And then, this week, various bits of information have come to light that made it clear to me this past year, I was better off without him. Not because he's not who I thought he was, but because he needed time to himself. I apologize for the ambiguity, but suffice it to say, I was protected. My year was stressful enough, and though I would have gladly helped shoulder his burdens, God thought better of it.

I teach Gospel Doctrine at church, and I'm always harping on the importance of the basics--pray daily, read scriptures daily, serve, love, etc. Because it's only when we are entrenched in the basics that we are able to feel that physical support from God, or be open to the inspiration that tells us He knows us and loves us. He is not a vengeful God, punishing my litany of sins with a lifetime of being single.

I still do not feel like the chapter of this particular boy is finished. But if it is, at least now I know why. That's no small gift, and I can't begin to express how grateful I am to just know.

Jumping In (Anne)

After the last relationship debacle with the Boy of Summer, I swore off online sites. That system is just not for me. If it wasn't going to work out with him, it wasn't gonna work out with anyone.

So I settled into my school routine, and still missed him every day.

Then last Sunday my visiting teachers came and offered the obligatory “do you need anything?”

And I mustered all the humility I could and said, “Well, a husband. More specifically, prayers for one.”

We shared a lighthearted laugh, but I explained that if my own pathetic prayers aren't doing the trick, I might as well enlist the help of people with more faith than I have. One of my visiting teachers asked if I was opposed to being set up, even if they didn't live in town.

“Why not?” I said.

So here I sit, 10 days later, and an email arrives from a friend of that visiting teacher. In normal circumstances, I would feel a combination of fear and excitement. This time, I felt a combination of fear and sadness. Because engaging in communication with this person feels like I've closed the door on the Boy of Summer, a realization that clearly I was not prepared for.

I had left that door half open, hoping every single day that he would change his mind. He's clearly not, but at the same time, I'm not sure I'm ready for a rebound.

Even so, I mustered all the humility I could and wrote an email back. It might not go anywhere (let's be honest, I don't have a whole lot of faith in my track record), but I'm jumping back in. Opening my heart, making a friend, and trying to not hold the past against the future.

So, Thanks, I Guess (Anne)

29 days ago, a friend pressured me into trying National Novel Writing Month. Technically, I don't fit in their parameters, because most of the writers focus on works of fiction, and I can't imagine anything more ridiculous than my own life.

So I wrote a memoir.

50,000 words of a memoir. Most of which I will likely hack to pieces before sending it out to publishers in anticipation of many rejection letters.

(Sidebar: I think all of the dating rejection has completely prepared me for a life as a writer. How can rejection by a stranger be worse than rejection by someone I love? But I digress.)

The most recent boy to bail on me told me that what attracted me to him the most was my writing. He looooooooved reading my writing. He encouraged me to write a book, too, but I was too wrapped up in him and other summer pursuits to really take it seriously.

So when my friend challenged me to write an entire book in November, it was simply germination for a seed that had already been planted.

So to this boy who bailed on me exactly four months ago this week: thanks. Thanks for believing in me enough to encourage me to write a book. I never would have seriously considered it, had you not repeatedly told me you thought a book of mine would be great.

Oh, and thanks for being a chapter.

Chemistry and Timing (Anne)

On tonight's season premiere of “How I Met Your Mother,” the ever-hopeful Ted arrives at the frightening realization that he no longer has hope. Talking to his friend Robin, Ted grapples with the reality that all of his high school friends are married and have families, and he doesn't.

He says, “I've stopped believing...not in a way I even noticed...every day I believe a little less, and a little less, and a little less, and that sucks.”

The advice Robin gives? To believe again. And not to believe in destiny, but to believe in chemistry. She says, “If you have chemistry, you only need one other thing. Timing.”

And, she continues, “But timing's a...”

Well, this is a Mormon blog, so I'm going to leave out the expletive, but you get the point.

And then I started thinking about how mopey I've been lately. Just this morning, as I once again wished for the boy to call or text, I thought, “Would he even want to be with me again, seeing me like this?”

Probably not.

I lack chemistry right now. That spark, that flirtatiousness that makes people want to be around me. Heck, I don't even want to be around me some days lately. I need that chemistry back, and I do see flickers of it a couple of times a week, so I just need to fan it and stoke it a little, until it's back completely.

And then, it's timing. Timing sucks. Timing is the sole reason why I'm dealing with a breakup in the first place. The timing was not right for us. And there's not a lot I can do about timing, other than read conference talks about patience and re-read Captain Wentworth's letter in Persuasion. Talk about timing—that letter is all about timing.

One element in my control, one element in God's hands. I'm guessing if I expect God to come through on his part, I should be a little more active in doing something about mine.

Pity party over.

I'm out to find some kindling.

A Day in the Life (Anne)

5:30 AM, my alarm goes off and I pray for the feeling of sadness and dread to go away.

7 AM, sitting at my desk, buried in papers and lesson plans, I take a deep breath and forget that I woke up with sadness, put on my happy face, and I get to work.

11:30 AM, eating lunch with my friends, I take out my iPod and catch up on Twitter and my RSS feed, focusing on my digital world as an escape.

3:45 PM, working with my newspaper staff to finish our first issue, they make me laugh and they make me think, and for a couple of hours, I feel like I am actually making a difference.

7:30 PM, running on the treadmill, I realize after 17 minutes that I am hollow, going through the motions, and the TV show playing in front of me is horribly romantic and the sadness returns.

10 PM, on my knees at my bedside, I pray for my friends, for my students, for my family. I pray that I'll sleep through the night and that somehow I will wake up feeling like I did last week—normal, happy, over him. And then I pray for two men. For the one who said goodbye, I pray that the miracle he desires will happen. For the one I've yet to meet, I pray that he is well, and on his way to me soon.

Yesterday over at Segullah, a woman posted about the concept of God closing doors and opening windows, and she presents the idea that God might not work that way, rather closed doors are somehow meant to transform us. In the past six weeks, with a door slammed in my face, I have seen tiny transformations in myself. I am feeling more dependent on God now than I was on my mission or in grad school.

That is a pretty good transformation to make, right?

So It Turns Out I'm Human.

A long time ago, I decided I would not allow myself to be emotionally manipulated by a man. I would not let him woo me with fancy words or romantic gestures, because I didn't want to deal with the inevitable opposite.

So when I let my guard down last spring and allowed a man to woo me with fancy words and romantic gestures, I would apologize every time I'd talk to my friends, because I was gushy and gooey and downright disgusting.

They kept telling me I was human.

And when he told me he needed to move on three weeks ago, I tried to be robotic, stone-faced. One day, I was with a friend and could not stop crying. I kept apologizing to her, saying that it had been a week, and I should be over it, and I had no right to still be upset.

She told me I was human.

I saw The Philadelphia Story last night with a friend, and the men in the film really work over Tracy Lord and her superwoman approach to keeping men at bay in the name of emotional preservation. At the end of the film, she realizes her steely exterior has actually drawn in a man with whom she has zero chemistry, a man who would not challenge her, a man who expected a neat, near-robotic, tidy wife instead of a nuanced and at times emotionally messy wife. She exclaims with great joy, “I'm human! I'm human!” before walking down the aisle to remarry her ex-husband.

I've seen The Philadelphia Story several times, but it was the first time that Tracy's discovery that she was indeed human affected me. I thought of how many times in the past four months I have apologized to people for either being unable to stop smiling or unable to stop sobbing. True, one of my friends commented earlier in the summer that it was somewhat bizarre to see me so giddy, because I was always so rational and even-keeled. But she was glad to see I was capable of being “normal.” And when I was crying in her car a couple of months later, apologizing for being such horrible company, she told me to stop apologizing, told me I'd be okay, and told me I was “normal.”

Apparently, I'm human.

When It's Over...

So I spent all summer wrapped up in a relationship that I felt had real potential, and last week it ended. Abruptly. So abruptly, that I'm still reeling, and I don't want to be a complete downer so I've purposely held off writing here, but I feel like I need to put this thought out there...

Seeing a relationship end at my age is so much more complicated than it was when I was in my 20s. Yes, I miss him terribly and I'm confused and hurt and all those familiar emotions that I felt when guys would break up with me over a decade ago. But my hurt is now compounded by a fear that I might not meet many more suitable men. After all, it took quite a long time to find the one who left me last week...and it's not like I have a whole lot of options where I live, unless I'm willing to go to bars.

Which I'm not.

I need more time to process and heal from this, but I want to offer up this tiny piece of hope: in the past week, I have felt God's love for me more acutely than ever before in my life. As friends learned the news, they prayed for me, and I felt their prayers. And even though every night I've been on my knees, sobbing, my heart feels peace. I have no idea how this summer fits into God's plan for me (and I can't try to make sense of it now, because the first place I end up on that train of thought is Bitterville) so for now, I focus on my career that I love, my family that I love, and my God that I love.

After all, they all love me more than he did.

Cycles (Marnie)

Life is about cycles. I’m just coming out of one. There are the ups and downs of normal life, our “womanly” cycles, all sorts of cycles…

That’s what life is about. Going through cycles and trying to come out on top.

Yep, my cycle is one you are guessing I’m talking about. This blog is about dating and finding a mate, so of course I’m referring to the cycle of a relationship.

It started out shaky – I wasn’t entirely sure about him. But he seemed interested and did kind and thoughtful things – along with having a great sense of humor. There were some obvious obstacles, although, I tried hard to just focus on just “having a good time.” I thought in the back of my mind, if he cares enough, these obstacles won’t be a problem in the end.

It continued to build momentum. I tried to keep guarded but with no other good options (and I was really looking!), I lost the war and fell for him. He had so much of what I was looking for!

Then there comes the point where you are either moving forward or backward. Yep, mine went backward. Just like so many times in the past.

It was a rough month of uncertainty as I had to test the waters and see how much I really meant to him.

When the appropriate time came – luckily I recognized it after much pondering and prayer – I got my answer of what was to be. And it wasn’t.

It hurt. It always hurts. Why do I think it won’t? I’m not different from anyone else. The circumstances and the names of the guys may be different, but the disappointment, sadness and frustration are all the same.

Why was it so hard to get back up this time? I longed to force myself to a very short “mourning” period. I hate being a baby, whining and pining about a lost opportunity. And I had very stern talks with myself –giving great instruction on why it’s better to move on, forget about him, forget about the past, look forward to the future. You know, get back out there on that dating horse!

Yet, there were no dates to ride. And it was just empty and quiet. No good distractions, except unfortunate opportunities to run into him. Yuck.

It’s a cycle. They are never quite the same, but it still has to be ridden to the very end.

I feel better now. It’s still a famine in the dating world but I still wonder if it’s the vibe I’m giving off. It took such a long time to get here! Way longer than I wanted or he deserved. But I learned some important lessons. The most important one was how much I CAN’T do this alone. No one really understands what it’s like to be me. And I would NEVER assume to know what it’s like to be you. But the Savior knows and cares. And only through the atonement can I find relief. Not just from my sins, but from my disappointments and broken heart. I keep forgetting that. It’s a stupid thing to forget but the distractions of the world and my own pride seem to keep me from seeing that simple truth at crucial times. Luckily, I finally remembered and stopped suffering alone.

So that’s my excuse for leaving the blogging world for a while. Not a great reason or excuse, but it’s all I’ve got. I’ve considered dropping this blog more than once. I’m the last of those that started in the beginning. And if anyone was reading in the beginning, I wasn’t too active and vocal like the others. It’s hard to share so much and so often. To continue to carry the torch alone is a tough one! Being left behind isn’t fun. Nobody likes it. And one thing that was agreed in the beginning about this blog was to never make this a pity session or a “rant and rave” session with no real resolution.

But after careful thought, I realize I need to sit back and reflect more, instead of trying to distract myself from another loss. Just as I can’t give up on my goal to get married, I can’t give up on the blog. I only hope I really have something worth saying and I can try to say it more often….

Making Sense of Feelings (Leah)

I woke up not happy. Does that ever happen to you? I could blame it on staying up late – but that doesn’t always make me unhappy. You know what did it? I’ll tell you. I stayed up late thinking of unhappy things. Then after sleeping on those unhappy thoughts, and likely having unhappy dreams, I woke up unsettled. So what do you do when you wake up all unsettled like? Well, I need to process my feelings. I need to get them out of me so I can face my day. I don’t do well dwelling on unhappy things. So I pulled out the journal and did some scripture reading. It helped. But I noticed my first period suffered a bit because of my mood. They weren’t as engaged – first period rarely is – but today I noticed they were acting the way I felt. I really believe that people go around reflecting each other more often than not. My unsettled mood left them a bit distracted. Anyway, I want some of your input on the topic that left me a bit confused last night. I was trying to understand my emotions in relation to dating. I was trying to figure out why it is people feel fearful and insecure about dating. Why is it that we fear rejection – even before there’s a sign of it? In all my opportunities of dating and breaking up I’ve learned how to get over the feeling of rejection. I’ve learned how to fight it. But still, when I’m in the middle of a good relationship, feelings of fear creep up. Like sitting at the doctor’s, watching the nurse move about, and fearing the impending needle poke. Usually the poke is manageable. Usually I get over it just fine – maybe I’m sore for the day – but I recover. Just like a relationship that doesn’t work. So why do I fear it? I don’t think nurturing fears is good AT ALL. I think fear feeds fear. I think it only muddles things up – so how does a person refuse to hear it? And isn’t fear sometimes a good thing? Isn’t it a good warning sign at times? I fear going Latin dancing – I think that’s a pretty good fear to pay attention to. I know that dating has always led to a degree of heart break, but I don’t regret having done any of it. The pain has probably caused me to build up some fear, but I don’t think it’s the good fear that’s worth listening to. There were other positive results from those many heart breaks.

I’ll tell you what I came up with this morning. After spewing a bit in the journal I opened up the scriptures and read about healing. It was the section of the index that came open and it seemed mostly relevant. I turned to a passage in the D&C. It talked about how healing requires tenderness and love. Can’t argue there. Then a couple verses later it said something about weeping for those who die. Having experienced this sort of loss I could relate to it. I could see that it is more than okay to weep for someone who has died. Then it said something like how much sadder it is when someone dies without the hope of the resurrection. I know that when I’ve had to process the grief related to death I’ve been extremely grateful for the hope of the resurrection. I wondered to myself then, how a breakup is like death. It’s the death of a relationship you shared with another person (I like to believe it’s like a third person – there’s you, him, and then the “us”) – the “us” has died. Usually in terms of breakups we lack the hope of resurrection. I always force the hope of friendship – I think that’s my way of having a resurrection of sorts, and after all, there’s the hope of a new “us” with another “him.” But the scriptures said it is okay to weep for death. We all fear the time we will be sad, but since death is inevitable wouldn’t it be better to just accept it and give yourself permission to weep? Just have to be sure you have a hope of the resurrection. Now don’t get me wrong out there in blog land – I’m not going through any breakup – I was just wondering about the fears that creep up in relationships and how to distinguish between those feelings to find truth.