Posts Tagged ‘love’
~ Refined and reposted from 2011 archive
Ok, admittedly, I’m not a huge fan of Valentine’s Day. Ever ornery, I resent being guilted into expressing my love by corporate greeting card money whores. Forced to say “I love you” their way…on their day. Everywhere I look…cheesy cards, heart-shaped candy, and the foolproof red rose…guaranteed to make her shed her clothes. Apparently. “V” day could possibly be the most pressure inducing holiday of the year. He’s feeling the squeeze to romance her, lest she be the only “unloved” girl alive who will secretly plan her vengeance on some random day when he feels all is right with his all too romantically challenged little world . And, in appreciation for his romantic efforts, she feels pressured to give it up, lest he be the only “unlucky” guy alive, who will surely wither under the duress of an under-utilized appendage. He’s sprung for dinner and a gift…and he’s sprung yet again.
Forced to stalk the aisles ablaze with red and pink lovin’ necessities, we buy (literally) into the holiday hype for fear our sweetie will feel unlucky in love. Scrambling frantically, and at the last minute, through hundreds of replicated pledges of love, we’re mere puppets at the greedy hand of the greeting card industry. Five bucks to express someone else’s feelings and look the other way when the moment has passed and those feelings are tossed into the trash? Creativity is dead, it seems. A homemade card created from the heart is not only more romantic…it’s a thoughtful one-of-a-kind gesture, and you can be sure that thousands of other people aren’t pretending to love the same exact “gesture” while wondering if their heartthrob searched for hours on end or just grabbed the card nearest the exit route from the store. But hey, if retail giants say these token mass produced impersonal gifts will get you laid, who am I to argue?
But I do.
If cards, candy, and flowers were sure to set his sheets on fire with hot lovemaking (which is the true motive behind his romantic whim), you can bet the calendar would be inundated with more dreamt up “romantic” holidays. One competing with the next on its panty dropping ability. Men everywhere would make a daily pit stop at the local corner store to stock up on the “sure thing” card, candy, flower trifecta. The male consumer population would redefine the term “convenience store.” A quickie mart for the quickie smart.
Obviously love is more complicated than that. While it’s nice to be romanced on Valentine’s Day, we want to feel loved, supported, and appreciated every day of the year. After all, there are 364 more opportunities to show affection…and to get some. Attentive appreciation provides all the ammo our sweeties need to combat those 364 days chock-full of life’s not-so-welcome little surprises. Fickle and unforgiving, life is unpredictable on a good day, hostile on a so-so day, and a downright bitch on a bad day. Presented with twists and turns, ins and outs, ups and downs, we come face to face with everything life throws our way. The good, the bad, and the ugly. And through it all, we want to know that our one and only will stand by our side. That we can depend on that love, rain or shine. Dependability plays a vital role in relationship success and is rated one of love’s most valuable commodities. We want assurance that the one we love is there to catch us when life tosses us aside. We want more than a lover. We want a best friend.
Studies show that the happiest and most successful couples are also best friends. A best friend is there when life is good…dancing and playing alongside us in life’s blindingly sunny rays of happiness. A best friend is there when life is hostile…showing us a single ray of sunshine amid life’s ominous rain clouds. And, most importantly, a best friend is there when life is a bitch…standing right there beside us providing shelter in the eye of the storm. And when that storm passes, a best friend dances with us in the puddles, dries us off, and helps us move on.
On life’s sunniest and stormiest of days…we want a shoulder to cry on, a friend to rely on, and a lover to get it on.
No more holiday hype.
On Valentine’s Day, on a good day, on a bad day, on THIS day…be the best friend your sweetie needs.
Say “I love you” your way…every day.
Love when love doesn’t come easy.
Love is a merciless cycle with more white knights and horses’ asses than a mall carousel. And there’s no getting off. We woo, become two, screw…and someone says “we’re through.” A heart is broken. Tweet and Repeat. When soaring high amid the heart-shaped clouds of Cupid’s fleeting bliss, the heart pays no mind to Newton’s Law of Physics. But once the “gravity” of a breakup hits us, we have no choice but to free fall and come crashing down on Newton’s grim prediction… “What goes up must come down.” If only we didn’t have to “come down” on a bed of meticulously filed, dagger sharp nails piercing not only the heart, but our entire body…one gut-wrenching teardrop at a time. Turning us into a human shish kabob all too eager to throw ourselves onto a flaming grill and end our bleeding heart misery. Supposedly, the pain we feel is only heartache. But in actuality, the pain of a broken heart hurts everywhere. Does it not? When the object of our affection personally digs a great divide into the heart we’ve given them, we feel physical pain. Inexplicable pain that no amount of “There’s lots of fish in the sea” or “That jerk didn’t deserve you” band-aids can cover up. We’re “stuck on” the ex.
Screw the band-aid! Anyone up for a tirade?
A broken heart leaves us coiled up in the fetal position crying hopelessly, cursing Stupid Cupid, and threatening to shove that magically sharpened arrow up his virginal baby smooth bare tuckus. Rejection has a tendency to breed cynicism, no? But baring the fangs of our inner cynic is a human knee-jerk reaction to the security breach of our too-vulnerable heart. And usually the only retaliation we get. The heart is our lifeline. It pumps life into our body. Broken heart, broken body. And our body feels that break mentally, emotionally, AND physically.
So yes, love hurts!
Scientists studied party-pooping participants who were recently dumped, so the pain was fresh and frenzied. The lucky lotto winners had their brains picked apart and studied by modern technology. Brain activity was monitored while enduring physical pain from being burned with a hot probe. And then again while enduring emotional pain from gazing upon a picture of the ex and regaling the experimenter with the low-down on how they were dumped.
FUN and FUN!
Though beneficial for the furthering of science, the details of the study beg the question:
WTF did these poor souls get paid for their participation? Enough to pay for fallout therapy or just enough to drown the pain in Jose Cuervo, pass out, and send Jose packing down the porcelain throne? First class ac’commode’ations.
Poor souls aside…what they found was that our brains don’t discriminate based on race, sex, religion, hypocrisy, emotional dismemberment, or a slashing from Jack the Ripper. When it comes to pain, the human brain is all-encompassing. These studies show that intense emotional pain activates the same neural pathways in our brains as physical pain. So whether we suffer emotional or physical misery, our brains can’t differentiate. We simply feel pain. No wonder a broken heart is so crushing and debilitating. We don’t know if we’ve been dumped off or bumped off.
Nor do we care.
So why doesn’t the brain distinguish between emotional and physical pain? Because evolutionarily speaking, being alone is bad for business. Experts suggest that we evolved to feel actual pain at separation to prevent our demise. Many, many years ago, we were roaming the predatory wild and needed to avoid becoming an all-u-can-eat buffet for beastly, dragon-breath patrons. In order to survive, we needed a buddy…a partner…a more appetizing distraction to enable our getaway, just in case a patron is doubly ravenous. Being alone was dangerous. So our brains evolved to send physical warnings to our bodies when we found ourselves all alone in the world. Warnings in the form of pain. Ouch!
This is why we suffer so much when rejected…not only by a lover, but by our peers as well. We know that as long as we fit in and blend in, we’re a shoo-in for survival. We have an innate animal instinct to survive. At all costs. So when we find ourselves staring down the barrel of rejection with our one and only’s finger on the trigger, we hurt as if we’ve taken the literal bullet. The realized risk of solitude and slaughter triggers a primitive fear that manifests itself as physical pain. Our minds have convinced our bodies that rejection is more like dissection. When cast aside, our protective layers are peeled away and our vulnerable insides picked away. So, like every good romance story perpetuates, Together…GOOD…Alone…BAD! There’s an old adage: “The best way to get over an old love is to find a new one.” Out with old…in with the new. Once we find a new love, we have a partner to brave the wilds with. We’re no longer alone…no longer at risk. We are two! Over you.
All is good.
But in true cyclic form, and as Newton predicted, we’ll inevitably come crashing down and feel the physical pain of rejection once again.
And when we do…we can drown our pain at the end of lonely street at Heartbreak Hotel, where the hearts bleed and the tears flow. Or…we can claim that vacancy at the Bates Motel, where the showers beckon…and the psychos bludgeon. We won’t know the difference…apparently. Pain is pain…to the brain.
Love is Hell!
“If you’re going through hell, keep going.” ~ Winston Churchill
Communication is many things. Heard, misheard, code word, wrong word… and between couples, a 4-letter word. Attempting to translate the alien language of the opposite sex proves to be difficult, frustrating, and, at times, futile. In the words of Charlie Brown’s teacher, “wa wah wa wah wah wah wa wa.” Or something like that. Maybe this was some code language understood by the Peanuts gang alone. But so often, I wish Lucy, in all her smart-ass future feminist extremist attitude, would yell from her desk…
“Enunciate bitch! We can’t understand you”
Obviously, conversation doesn’t always equal communication. One can talk endlessly without saying a thing. And one can speak volumes without being heard at all. Successful communication requires both speaking and listening. I once read that we have one mouth and 2 ears…so we should listen twice as much as we speak. Yet, we don’t. The longer we’re together, the less we listen.
I sometimes watch older couples in restaurants…wondering what they’re talking about, how connected they are, or whether they’re existing side-by-side oblivious to the other. Body language reveals so much about a couple’s mojo. Many times, I’ve watched as a wife eats and jabbers on about whatever is on her mind. She talks, but he’s not listening. This person she’s conversing with hasn’t diverted his attention from the edible orgasm on his plate in 20 minutes. He has no idea that she’s talking, let alone what she’s saying. Yet, she yammers on…and on…never seeming to notice that her “communication” is being upstaged by the perfectly seasoned and sauteed carcass that’s giving him more oral action than he’s seen in a long time. By this point of my stealthy stalking, I’m not sure who I pity more…they both seem immersed in their own worlds, bored to death, and hardly connected. Their exchange, or lack of it, fascinates me. I watch. I analyze. I wonder…
Would he “stand up” and take notice if she sandwiched that meat between her boobs while she spoke? I’m kidding. Ok, so I’m not. Of course he would!
Are they happy? Or have they mutually surrendered to a lonely parallel existence?
Any long time couple can relate. After years of “togetherness,” we inevitably lose touch without realizing it. We assume that because we share close proximity, we’re also close emotionally. And on some levels, we are. Living together IS close. Intimately personal gestures like putting ass to toilet seat while the other scrubs unmentionable areas in the shower requires a certain level of closeness — wouldn’t you say?
But again, that’s physical proximity. Parallel existence is not communicating. It’s not connection. It’s not enough. Or so says the half of marriages that end due to loss of that connection.
Experts say there’s a reason we reach the “My husband/wife doesn’t understand me anymore” point in a marriage. And that reason is lazy communication. Research shows that we sometimes communicate better with strangers than with our own spouses. That long-time couples get to know each other so well that we assume too much shared information..and consequently, share less. The less we share, the less we understand, the less connected we feel. When communicating with a stranger, we realize they know nothing about us. So, we share more. More detail, more emotion – more in general – in an attempt to be understood. But when speaking to our spouse for the umpteen billionth time in a year, we mentally calculate (x number of years together = can read my mind). We falsely assume they know what we’re feeling and thinking. So we don’t bother to delve too much into it.
Like our bodies, our brains get comfortable…and lazy. After winning over our partner in marriage, we may let ourselves go, not make time for exercise, and avoid giving our mid-section a little in-spection. Our brains are no different. We get comfortable and let our communication slide. Maybe we eventually feel we’re repeating ourselves and stop. Maybe we feel the other doesn’t care, so why bother. Maybe we just assume he/she already knows…or should know what we’re feeling. And when “he” doesn’t, watch out! Because he should…right? Our brains are devious and self-protective enough to convince us that it’s the “other” spouse who doesn’t understand “us.” Or can’t read our mind. The lazy brain prefers to shift blame elsewhere. But to be heard and understood, Express Yourself!
If we’re failing to communicate and stay connected due to comfort, maybe we’re, in fact, too close for comfort. Sometimes we just get in a rut, take one another for granted, and grow bored. But remember the beginning of your relationship? When communication wasn’t a chore? When it came without effort? Communication just was, wasn’t it? We didn’t think twice about it. What else just was? Sex, cuddling, emotion. It all goes hand-in-hand. We communicate because we want to be closer. We want to be closer to have sex and a connection. So, a lack of communication will result in a lack of connection will result in a lack of sex will result in a lack of communication will result in a lack of connection will result in a lack of sex. Round and round we go. Where we get off – and don’t “get off” – we all know. Splitsville.
We can walk around with our iPods, iPhones, iAlones tucked securely in our pockets every single day. Reliably close. But if we don’t plug in the headphones and listen, we won’t appreciate them and will eventually decide we don’t need them around. Or someone else may steal them from our reliably close pocket when we’re not “listening.”
A happy couple needs three things to thrive: connection, love, and sex. Each relies on the other for success. If one falls to the wayside, the others follow in a domino effect.
Maybe the man in the restaurant would be less into his meal and more into his wife if he knew she’d be into him later in bed. After all, men communicate for sex. Women have sex to communicate.
So connect, communicate, and fornicate.
Plug in, tune in, “come” in.
“The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.” ~ George Bernard Shaw
French kissing. Tongue wrestling. Face sucking. Lip Locking. Spit swapping. Whatever your term selection for tonguing affection, kissing is the shiznit, no? An upper persuasion for a lower invasion, as they say. If romance movies have taught us anything, it’s that a knee weakening, head dizzying, passionate tongue tango is all the erotic prodding a sexy pair of undies needs to head south for a breather. But on the flip side, experience has taught us that a knee locking, spark-free spit exchange void of palpable passion…
Well, the undies will never know, will they?
We’re all looking for a home run when it comes to sex…but all the bases must be touched to get there. And, who’s on first? Why, the kiss, of course. Without the success of a hot sultry kiss, the batter is as likely to get to second base as an inebriated Homer Simpson sporting not-so-tighty whities and shoelaces tied together. Three strikes be damned! He’s out!
Kissing is the universal language of love. A must – or bust! But why? In a society obsessed with Germ-X and antibacterial redi wipes, why do we kiss in the first place? Going to such great lengths to protect our delicate hands from icky germs, but tongue probing the unknown bacterial depths of the infamous dirty mouth?
We have our reasons…however manipulative they may be.
As with everything else relationship, men and women speak a different language when it comes to kissing. Both have subconscious biologically driven motives for the kiss. Both use it to get what they want. And both just down right love it. It’s the sex before the sex, right? But that’s where the similarities end. As usual, men are straight forward. As his tongue does the persuading, he’s already “pointing” to what he wants. She, on the other hand, is persuading with her tongue, but keeping what she wants a mystery to him. Nothing new there, huh?
Our ulterior motives are devilishly different. And we’ve perfected the kiss as a tool to meet those motives. One way or another, we’re in it to win it…whether “it” is sex, connection, or long-term bond. We kiss for a reason. When first getting to know someone, we have no idea if he/she would make a good sex partner. We need to test the waters before leaping in. Evaluate his/her mating potential. So we let our tongues do the stalking.
We kiss to:
Assess a mate ~ Both sexes kiss to evaluate a mate. According to experts, the moment our lusty mouths meet, a very complex exchange of information begins to unfold…a sort of titillating tongue talk. Our saliva and and breath are packed with pheromones and other biochemical signals telling us whether we’re genetically compatible…and give us clues on the health of our possible bed buddy. We’re literally taste testing the merchandise. Are they worthy of breeding? Should we pursue the screw? Do we rev our engines and step on the gas…or get out of the car altogether. Without the “spark,” there’s no heat. And a kiss tells us instantly whether there’s a spark. We’re biologically driven to perpetuate the species. So if we’re not genetically compatible, the body knows. Result: Kiss OFF!
Monitor the bond ~ This one belongs solely to the ladies. Once we’ve decided the taste test is a success, we continue to lay it on him in hopes of raising his oxytocin level, which will -in turn – make him bond with us. We want the bond because we know once we procreate, we need him to stick around and help with child rearing. Then once we’ve sealed the bond, we further use the kiss to gauge the status of the relationship. We’re in constant assessment mode, and use the tongue as a love thermometer. Is he still committed? Still hot for me? Losing interest? Not feeling it anymore? Does he love me, or love me not? As Cher put it, It’s in his kiss!
Score some booty ~ Men pucker up for the obvious reasons…sex, sex, and more sex. Perfectly evolved mating machines, they use the kiss to get her hot and bothered. To lure her to down ‘n’ dirty town. The kiss is bait. Sex…the prize. Scientists say trace amounts of testosterone are found in his saliva and are passed on via the kiss to get her in the mating mood. Instinctively he knows that stimulating her very sensitive lips and tongue will also stimulate her lower regions. He also uses the kiss to help him determine how good the sex will be. To let him know how receptive she is to mating. He subconsciously perceives her level of wetness and salivary exchange during the kiss as a representation of her sexual receptivity during actual intercourse. Is she hot, or not? Ready, or not? Research shows that men feel kissing should lead to sex. Thank god for modern research! We may never have figured that one out on our own. A hot lingering wet kiss means one thing to him. Go ahead. Lay it on him…he’ll rise to the occasion every time.
It seems the subconscious mind has us kissing for reasons we may or may not be aware of. We’re cunning little kissers, no? But aside from the drive to mate and bond, we kiss because we like it. Because it’s fun. Because it’s teasingly erotic and Oh so romantic. And because…
Oh, who are kidding? We want sex.
But when it comes to the kiss, ponder this. Are there good kissers and bad kissers? Or are the ones we perceive as bad simply not genetically compatible with us…therefore a sexual union not beneficial to the propagation of the species? Are we nothing more than pawns in the game of banging biology? Or do we make our own lip smacking rules?
Kiss or miss…
Get your tongues in a twist and find out.
“A kiss that speaks volumes is seldom a first edition.” ~Clare Whiting
Saying “I do” … $20,000. First twirl of the “virginal” lily white gown around the dance floor as husband and wife … $3000. That dreamy oblivious newlywed stare as guests gorge on cake and romance… $1000. One hell of a honeymoon night romp… $2000.
That sex-starved post-dreamy glazed over look of defeat after several years of marital reality…priceless.
A wedding day is pure bliss… So enjoy.
Quickly! …going, going…gone.
Weren’t those 24 hours worth every penny? They say words are cheap…clearly, whoever said that never priced the words “I do.”
Now that the wedding is yesterday’s event, welcome to the marriage. The two are not only opposites…but archenemies. One promising eternal bliss. The other proving to be a total diss. One starring the happy couple. The other starring the tantrum-prone offspring. One boasting the price tag of a stellar college education. The other roasting the price tag of 2 kids + college education. WTF?? One teasingly offering frequent sex, shameless flirting, and permanent googly eyes. The other delivering rare nookie, shameless averting, and loveless rolling of the eyes. At some point every marriage departs from the land of the “dreamy” and enters the land of the “dreary.” Such is the path life cruelly steers marriage down. The sex dwindles and takes a back seat to…well, everything. Who has time, right?
The once “sho” thing is now a “no” thing. But sex is vital to the health of marriage. It’s a deal maker and a deal breaker.
So, why IS sex so important…aside from the obvious?
~ Sex is a basic physical need ~
We physically need sexual release…our biology demands it. And who are we to argue with biology? It’s the one thing that draws us to the opposite sex…the only thing men and women have in common…aside from the ability to “release” multiple times. Oh, wait…nope, my mistake. Sex is what brings us together to begin with, right? We certainly don’t go looking for a mate to celebrate our celibacy needs…have a “burning of the condoms” rally. First and foremost, we’re drawn to a partner to satisfy the howling horndog that dwells within. And yes, consequently, we fall hopelessly in love. But love is simply a result of satisfying those needs. Sex releases a chemical into our brain giving us “That Lovin’ Feeling.” So, no sex…no love! We marry because we ARE in love. But let’s face it…without our pushy libido running the show, we never would have paired up and gotten married in the first place. It IS the driving force behind our union. The dirty ulterior motive behind the elegance and romance of the exchanging of the wedding vows.
We spend more money on the “big” day than is conscionable. Why? Because on this day, we’re forking over mega moola to say, “Hey! I like banging her. She’s mine, and no one else can have her.” Or him. We’re horny stingy overgrown kids at heart…MINE, MINE, MINE! And sharing…out of the question! So, part of this union deal is monogamy. No extracurricular banging allowed! Once married, we rely solely on our hottie of choice to fulfill our biological sexual needs “until orgasmic death do us part.” Routine sex is the unspoken insinuation of “I do.” And frankly, it’s the reason men put up with the rest of marriage’s shenanigans. Sure, they love us…but without the dirty to keep them invested, they will meander off the marital path. And honestly, so will we. Women want it as much as men do…ok, so maybe not AS much. But if it slacks off, trouble brews. And if it, dare I say, ceases altogether…all bets are off. All wedded promises null and void. The irony? After one day’s overpriced hoopla to celebrate the union and say “I love you,” a simple piece of paper suffices to say, “My bad…hit the road Jack.”
~ Sex is an intimate emotional need ~
We communicate through sex, through touch, through sensation. We express love, desire, and affection…all through sex. We reaffirm that love with every tender caress, every sweet kiss, every screaming orgasm. Sex leaves us feeling exhilarated, desired, and alive. Who doesn’t want to be an object of desire? So, if our spouse doesn’t want us, we take a major hit to our self esteem. We feel rejected, unloved, unattractive. And we begin to doubt our sex appeal, doubt our sweetie’s sex appeal, and doubt “us.” Human beings need affection. We crave it…thrive on it. It’s the language of love. With it we can say, “I love you. Can’t get enough of you. Do me now!” Or we can say… “Nah… I’ll pass.”
We don’t want to be with someone who makes us doubt ourselves. Our ego won’t stand for that at all…and will convince us we don’t have to either. You can bet we listen up when our ego speaks. It’s our inner Gandhi! Respected and revered.
~ Sex keeps us CONNECTED ~
Marriage is a river of problems. From romance to finance. From kiddos to low blows. From families to failures. Our only hope of crossing that river and surviving its treacherous waters is to join together and form a bridge. An interlocking connection that will lead us safely to the other side. If we don’t come together, interlock our pieces, and stay connected…we’re left with no means of crossing that river of problems. And the only recourse will be divorce.
Our bridge is sex.
Sex is connection…a marital lifeline that bonds us. So, if the sex fades, intimacy fades. No more touching, hand holding, kissing, snuggling, talking, confiding, …No more anything. Connection broken. Bridge blown to pieces. No way across.
Successful marriage is an endangered institution. Sustaining it requires connection. Connection requires sex.
So be proactive. Change your world.
“Sex is an emotion in motion” ~ Mae West
Thrills, chills, and squeals. Adrenaline junkies at heart! We love to hate horror movies, push our fear factor limit by creeping through haunted houses, plunge from ledges with nothing but a glorified rubber band fending off the grim reaper, and flock to amusement parks in search of a thrill like hard ‘n’ horny “gentlemen” waving dollar bills in a strip club. Some of us take on those thrills, climb on stage, and bump and grind…while others stand on the sidelines, live vicariously, and just…watch. One group will leave with a thrill. The other, only the bill. So, here’s the question: If life were an amusement park and new experiences the rides, which rides would you stand in line for? Which ones are worth it? Worth the wait…worth the risk? Would you opt to play it safe, take the short line, and settle for the Teacups, Tilt-a-Whirl, or indoor shows? Or would you seek out the risk, build anticipation in line, and get your adrenaline pumping on the biggest, baddest, hair-raising, death-grazing roller coasters in the park? The shush or the rush?
Relationships present the same dilemma. Once we pair up, settle down, and marry…then what? Do we settle into routine, expect the expected, and watch our zest for life run away with the hottie next door? Or do we dare to dry new things, strive to grow as individuals, and sample life’s wide array of flavors together…as a couple? Do we opt for a love affair with life…or bore one another, derail our marriage, and flirt with divorce? Keeping a marriage on track is not for faint-hearted. It takes work, work, and more work. Hitched hoopla has it that marriage will falter under the strain of many things…paying the heating bill in a cold economy, disciplining an undisciplined child, a sexual affair in a sexless relationship, or who the hell’s turn it is to scrub the toilet. While all are deal shakers, sheer boredom may just be the big daddy deal breaker. After all, what does one do when bored? Bored with monotonous chores, with do-nothing weekends, with rare ordinary sex? Hmmm…look for something else to do? SomeONE else to do?
Hold on to your pride! YES! Humans are inquisitive by nature. We do NOT like to be bored…not with work, not with life, but most importantly…NOT with love.
Studies show that modern couples are looking for partners who make their lives more interesting, more fun, more…stimulating. We’re looking for the va-va-voom! And according to divorce statistics, we’ll sacrifice family and finances to get it. Dr. Gary Lewandowski, a professor in New Jersey, performed studies proving that individuals use relationships to accumulate knowledge and experiences. That what we’re looking for in a partner above all else is self-expansion. We want to learn, to grow, to view ourselves in new and exciting ways. So, if we see our partner as a source of gained knowledge, creativity, and fun, we’re more likely to remain committed. But once we stop expanding, we grow bored and begin looking elsewhere to further ourselves. Damn egos.
Researchers conclude that couples who have fun together, engaging in silly or intellectually stimulating experiences, report feeling more connected…more in love. And on the flipside, those who only engage in boring monotonous stimulatingly challenged experiences — i.e. chores — report feeling disconnected…unhappy…wondering what else, or who else, could be waiting around the corner. Disconnection precedes divorce. No fun…no hon. Laughter is, in fact, the best medicine…for all your boring needs.
Doubt our need for excitement? Just count the zeros on the paychecks of entertainment stars. We want, need, and will pay high dollar for entertainment. “Entertain me” may sound very self-serving. It is. But we are. We ignore our self-serving ways. Reject our selfishness out of guilt…blame our boredom on something more socially acceptable. Irreconcilable differences, perhaps? Reject away…but at our core, we’re self-serving individuals…human beings successfully evolved to outwit, outplay, outlast. To do this, we must grow, learn, and expand. Without the idealistic pressures we place on ourselves, without the societal expectations of being a do-gooder, without worrying about what someone else will think…drop the mask. Explore the “banned no-man’s land” of your mind and ask yourself…
“Am I bored?” No judgment…no one’s listening.
The reality is…as long as we’re growing, learning, experiencing, pushing life’s envelope, and having fun, we’ll stay committed. We’ll plant ourselves in our spouse’s garden, reach for his sunny rays of excitement, soak in his nutrients, and grow. We place great value on that garden…remain content basking in the “glow of the know.” But once the sun recedes, the garden shades over, and the nutrients dry up…we begin to wither and droop. Our buds drag the ground. We long for someone to dig us up, transplant us to another, more promising garden, and bring us back to life.
Next up: affairs, separation, and divorce.
Is it any wonder a new relationship is so exhilarating? It presents us with new ideas, new experiences, new takes on life, and new sides of ourselves. Makes us feel alive. Being in any long-term relationship, good or bad, will usher boredom to our doorstep. We can let it in, settle into our butt-imprinted comfy chairs, and fall asleep watching sitcom repeats…or we can meet it at the door dressed as our fun alter ego and take it…take us…for the ride of our lives.
So, how do we provide ourselves AND our sweeties self-expansion?
Step out of the comfort zone. Try new things. Go new places. Meet new people. Explore unexplored sexual taboos. Take a class together. Discuss politics, news, the latest Chick Hughes article, culture…life. Engage in a friendly debate. Constantly push and challenge one another. Anything to keep us feeling fresh, new, relevant, ALIVE. When we feel alive together, we feel connected…In Love! Mi Amore!
So, while touring life’s amusement park, which rides will you get on? Will you go for the rush or settle for the shush? All couples can get on the Teacups together, but they may not get off together. A terrifying toe-curling coaster with your sweetie will leave your blood pumping, your heart racing, your connection sealed, and sparks flying. You’ve just self-expanded together. Love and learn.
Love on the edge.
“Boredom: the desire for desires” ~ Leo Nikolaevich Tolstoy
Life’s many faces
Beauty. Society contrives it. Cover Girl revives it. Our eternal quest drives it. It’s possibly the most sought after, most elusive Godiva truffle in life’s box of Hershey’s chocolates. Unfortunately, every box of chocolates has at least one poser…appearing deliciously scrumptious on the outside, but revealing its bitter treacherous flavor upon cracking its beautiful shell. Women, and increasingly men, will do anything to attain “beautiful” status. Diets, creams, Spanx, injections, surgeries, implants, human microwaves, electrical facials…body parts return and exchange at the customer service desk of our local Body Shop. “You hate it. We fix it ~ More bod for your buck.” And that’s just America. Other cultures are equally extreme when it comes to achieving beauty. That’s right…the quest for beauty doesn’t discriminate based on gender, skin color, religious beliefs…or planetary location. It’s a global phenomenon, and we’re but its mere minions. So, what IS beauty? Who defines it? Cosmo? Vogue? Playboy? Modeling gurus? Photoshop? Culture? And why are we so eager to conform? Why do we refuse to think outside the “beauty box?” The recipe for beauty is spelled out for us through pop culture. But maybe we should alter the ingredients, shake things up a bit…add more spice, more variety…see how the flavor changes.
Psychologists say we’re born with an innate knowledge of what’s beautiful…and what’s not. When shown different facial images, babies show a preference for attractive human faces over unattractive faces. They linger and look longer at faces adults would consider beautiful. Why? Because babies, like adults, prefer symmetry. Whether it’s patterns or faces…they choose to gaze upon symmetry. And symmetrical faces are synonymous with beauty. So, some experts hastily conclude that we’re born armed with a universal definition of beauty.
I’m skeptical. Do we like beauty because of symmetry, or symmetry because of beauty? Which is the predictor of the other? Whatever the “chicken and the egg” answer, one’s idea of beauty is much broader than symmetry alone. According to the Journal of Psychological Science, our idea of attraction seems to follow a prototype…a look we’ve come to anticipate after seeing it repeatedly…something familiar to our brains. They reported that what we find attractive is whatever requires the least amount of effort for our brain. If we grow up around a particular impression of beauty, we’ll likely maintain that impression throughout our lives. This theory would certainly explain the cultural aspect of defined beauty. Our lazy brains are forcing us to take the easy way out and conform to “beauty in a box.” Guess it’s too much effort to run the brain around the block every now and again.
Beauty, when allowed to be, is an abstract individual concept. But because we need a concrete tangible outcome to strive for, we’ve boxed it in…narrowly defined it and labeled any and all differing physical attributes as “unattractive.” Pity. It limits not only our own beauty, but our dating pool as well. And we’re not alone. In any corner of the world, we find a localized limited definition of beautiful…one boxed in by the boundaries of that particular culture.
~ In Japan, beauty is…smooth, extremely light skin tones ~ porcelain-like. Japanese women feast on collagen-infused foods to lighten their skin, scour the market for the best face whitening creams money can buy, and apply nightingale bird feces as facial masks. Wait…porcelain-pooping birds?
~ In Thailand…very elongated necks. At 5 years of age, young girls begin wearing brass rings around their necks and add more rings as they age. As their necks elongate, they’re considered more and more beautiful. Sounds awkward…but hey, with an elongated neck, they now can “look down” on their suppressors.
~ In New Zealand…lip and chin tatoos. The most desirable women have full, inky blue lips.
~ In Ethiopia…scar patterns on the stomach. The elders make cuts into young girls’ tummies to form patterns and prepare them for their impending man hunt.
~ In China…tiny feet. For centuries, women have bound up their feet to attain this “ideal” …but only managed to deform them in the process. Foot binding is no longer in practice…turns out walking did trump beauty after all.
~ In Iran…a perfect nose. Women aren’t allowed to appear sexually suggestive and must cover every part of their bodies except the face. Because the nose is the only thing to flaunt, they flock to plastic surgeons to get pricey nose jobs. And because the surgery is considered a privilege, they wear the bandages longer than necessary as status symbols. Iran is the “nose job capital of the world.” Seems you can’t suppress sexual competition after all. When all else fails, the “nose knows” how to get a man.
~ In West Africa...full heavy figures. Thin is considered sickly and undesirable. Plumpness, stretchmarks, thick ankles, big butts, and juicy arms are what land a man. Young girls are force fed to fatten them up and make them more attractive to men. Baby got back!
It’s obvious we don’t share a universal idea of beauty…preference for symmetry maybe, but that’s where it seems to end. Blonde, tan, and unrealistically thin may represent American beauty, but it would be repulsive in some cultures. Beauty means something different according to who you ask and where you ask it. For the most part, it seems beauty is largely defined by our Cultural Beast and propagated by mass media. And, mass media is our reference point for beauty, unfortunately. Self-mutilation, self-degradation, self-starvation…it seems there’s nothing we won’t do to attain that “beauty.”
In our perpetual attempt to open life’s treasure chest of love and approval, we find beauty is the key. So, we conform…or contort…ourselves to get our hands on the “key.” We want to feel beautiful, and we take extreme measures to fit into our cultural “beauty box.” But once we box ourselves in, there’s no room to grow. We become stifled and confined. True beauty comes from within. It’s dark in a box, and if we’re miserably squished into a dark space, our beauty can’t shine through. However, outside the box, away from the confines of the Beast, our beauty can grow…evolve…change…thrive.
So, don’t box beauty in and tell her what she SHOULD be. Open your mind and let her show you what she CAN be. Define your own beauty.
Challenge the beast.
“Beauty is not caused. It is.” ~ Emily Dickinson
Bad health leads to doctors. Doctors to health insurance. Health insurance to stress. Stress to bad health. Round and round we go. Nothing revs our ailing engines more than America’s five-star health careless system…a system riddled with fickle coverage loopholes, high premium sinkholes, deep deductible manholes, and pre-existing condition hellholes. Notice the common denominator? All holes leading to the big daddy…the health insurance Black Hole! We pull money from our asshole, throw it down the insurance black hole, and end up digging our own financial hole. The holes are many, and regardless of our tap dancing talent, we fall in repeatedly. When faced with failing health, we’re forced to take a crash course in the crooked ways of our greedy private insurer’s coverage plan. If we weren’t sick before, we are now. If only we could fund our ever-rising insurance premiums with the money our sue happy lawyers won on our behalf for the emotional suffering inflicted by the complications of “our policy.” You know…give them a taste of their own “money.” Tell them where they can stick “our policy.” If only we had a choice! We may not have a choice when it comes to going to the doctor, but we may have a better health care plan already in place that can help us avoid the doctor…one free of loopholes, sinkholes, manholes, and hellholes…one secured by our better half. A happy marriage? Could it be that Dr. Love is our best insurance policy? That marriage actually promotes our health?
All experts agree…YES! A happy heart is a healthy heart! Countless studies confirm that a happy marriage helps keep our bodies healthier and private insurers poorer. But scientists say marriage itself isn’t the key. That it’s the relationship or commitment — not the institution — that keeps us healthier. A matter of how close we are as a couple. The intimacy we share, rather than the space. A disconnected, stressful marriage is, in fact, worse for the heart than single or divorced life. Stress is the bearer of bad health. It manifests itself physically via high blood pressure, low immune system, depression, gastrointestinal problems, rashes, or emotional disorders like anxiety. And let’s face it…avoiding daily stress is about as easy as making actual eye contact with Jessica Rabbit. Her eye color is as much a mystery to us as the elusive stress-free day. Marriage itself can create extra stress, but a stable loving connection with our sweetie combats that psychological stress and keeps it from physically running amuck in our bodies. How? L.O.V.E. Love lowers the stress hormone, cortisol…less stress translates into a happy heart. It boosts our immune system and reduces heart disease. Those who are happily married are healthier, less stressed, and live longer than those unhappily married, divorced, or single. The happier the marriage, the healthier the spouses. The more hostile the relationship, the weaker the immune system. When stress takes over, our body falls apart. But when love is the artist, it’s a “work of heart.”
Psychologist John Gottman says the benefits of a happy marriage are “better health, more resistance to infection, fewer infections, and a reduced likelihood of dying from cancer, from heart disease, from all major killers.” And those benefits are consistent across age, race, education, and income groups. Love is a universal band-aid.
Interestingly, for singles or unhappily married adults, having a network of supportive friends didn’t improve health. Only when the heart is involved…when we have that unconditional bond of love…only then does it reduce our stress hormones and promote better health. What does that mean? Marriage is all heart! When our heart is happy, our bodies reap the benefits. When our heart is unhappy, our bodies pay up…as do our wallets. The sicker we are, the more insurance costs…until eventually, we’re “too sick” to cover. Yes, apparently there’s only so much “sick” the private insurance companies will tolerate. Health coverage only for the healthy? Hmmm, corporate sarcasm perhaps?
Some scientists speculate that the reason we’re in better physical health when in a happy committed relationship is that our spouse inspires us to drink less, smoke less, get regular health checkups, and have better nutritional intake. Well, isn’t that obvious? But there’s more to it than that, right? Even infants thrive with loving skin-on-skin, heart-to-heart contact and deteriorate without it. Maybe everything begins and ends with the heart. Our heart thirsts for a connection, a bond, an unconditional love. When that thirst is quenched, our bodies thrive. But when that thirst is denied, we deteriorate. We need love like we need water. Without that bonded love to ground us, we fry when handling life’s electric stress.
Our heart/body relationship seems to be like any other…surviving on the give and take. A loving bond gives the heart what it needs. The heart reciprocates, lowers stress, and keeps the body healthier. Give and take. The heart may regulate the physical body, but love regulates the heart.
So, next time you’re stressing over the latest in “hellthcare,” or getting one too many doses of daily stress…slow down. Find your better half. Cuddle, connect, and let love medicate you. Look into your sweetie’s eyes, and say, “Do you need a checkup? Possibly an XXX-ray?”
“Lay back…the doctor is in.”
“There is more hunger for love and appreciation in this world than for bread.” ~ Mother Teresa
Remember youth, innocence, and naivety? When love seemed magical and effortlessly simple… black and white…a fairy tale? Young girls are inundated with expectations of idealistic love…happily ever after…you know, the stuff story books are made of – where apparently, love is an absolute…an unchanging cloud on which to float blissfully above the rest of the world exempt from life’s loveless problems. In the land of the storybook, the cloud is a one-dimensional shape defined by hard, finite lines. However, in reality, clouds are ever-changing and most definitely not one-dimensional. What happens when that cloud dissipates? After all, nothing stays the same, does it? Love, like everything else in our imperfect world, changes…it grows, it consumes, it elates, it diminishes, it shatters, it tolerates, it hurts, it ends, it overcomes…and sometimes…it splits in two. And we find our hearts are occupied by not one, but two loves…a revelation that is anything but easy…anything but happily ever after. To hell with the fairy tale! Is it ever possible to regain control of our heart? If not, how do we accommodate it?
Some feel there is no possible way to love more than one person at a time…perhaps because they simply have yet to come face to face with their own two-timing heart. And perhaps they have, but chose denial as a means of defense. Or, perhaps the idea of being in love with two people is so frightening, so intimidating that it’s just plain easier to refuse it’s possibility. Why deny? Denial is like a vicious dog chasing along behind you…eventually, you’ll tire…when you do, it’ll catch up and bite you in the ass.
While some choose to deny its existence, others struggle to tame it. According to research, romantic love for more than one person is not only possible, but extremely common. Most often, a second love isn’t sought out, but somehow creeps up when we’re not looking. Psychologists say that we may fall in love with two people for subconscious reasons…because they possess two different sets of characteristics…that those characteristics are complimentary to one another, rather than contradictory. For example, one may provide security, unconditional love, devoted partnership, and keep us in touch with our grounded self…while the other may provide sparks, romance, unpredictability, and allow us to experiment with a new unexplored self. It is believed that a main motivator in life is the need to expand ourselves and become more effective. One method for accomplishing this is through relationships. We need to feel like we make a difference…like we have a profound effect on someone or something. Sometimes we find that in a most unexpected place…a second love. Relationship stages are another culprit if and when we find ourselves in love x 2. One could be in the beginning infatuation stage and provide us that new love adrenaline high…which makes us feel attractive and vibrant again. The other may be progressed to a more mature stage and provide us security, rather than an ego boost. It may sound odd, but with complimentary personalities, the two halves make a whole. It may also sound a bit selfish…but a human being is, by nature, a selfish being…like it or not.
Psychologists also argue that our heart is capable of loving more than one parent, more than one child, more than one friend…why not more than one romantic partner? While they claim it IS possible…and common, they also point out that it IS incredibly problematic. And when interviewed, people who claimed to have loved more than one person at a time also owned the fact that if the tables were turned, they weren’t sure they could stand the idea of their beloved in the arms of another. Love is a bitch…no?
Whatever the rhyme or reason, we do sometimes find ourselves in love with more than one person. Control is something we each crave and aspire for. While we may be able to control many things in our lives, the heart is NOT one of them. The heart cannot be controlled…cannot be bartered…cannot be directed. Unlike our brain, it’s not bound by morality, laws, or vows. It is what it is…frightened, vulnerable, susceptible, and exposed…the one hole in our otherwise impenetrable suit of armor. When we do find our heart painfully split down the middle, that split slowly festers and cracks under the pressure of guilt, social expectation, and normality. Eventually, that crack in our heart gives way. Result: full blown heart…break.
For an unmarried person, this terrain is a bit less tricky…easier to navigate. Professionals say in this case, it may be best to let both people go and start anew…advice I find a bit lackadaisical and senseless. But for a married person who’s pledged his life to one person whom he loves, and finds himself loving another simultaneously…it’s a treacherous terrain full of sinkholes, mountain ledges, and quicksand that cannot be navigated by foot, but requires an air rescue…He not only needs to be rescued from the terrain, but also from himself…rescued from the mental torment of caring for two without hurting either. This is a feat many have tried, but few have had success with. It’s one thing to love a person…it’s another thing entirely to devote your life to a person whom you love. Obviously, we can’t control what’s in our heart, but we can control our actions stemming from it. Love is beyond our control…devotion, on the other hand, is a conscious decision to succumb to – and nourish - the love we’ve devoted ourselves to…AND…when need be… with another love…a conscious decision not to.
Love triangles, while new to some, are old hat in the tangled world of life and love. The head and the heart will frequently find themselves at odds with one another, as logic and emotion are eternal enemies. So, someday we may find that our house of love — a.k.a. our heart — has somehow become a duplex in which two loves reside. If this happens, it seems we have two options: we can attempt to evict one, bulldoze the dividing wall, and make more room for the original tenant — OR — we can allow them both to stay with the knowledge that one will squat while the other pays both rents. Bear in mind…the average person won’t support a freeloader for long. If rent continues to rise, our dependable renter will likely pack up and move. Keep it simple, keep it painless, keep it rent-controlled…one heart, one love.
Words of advice from the head. Maybe the heart will take heed.
“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.” ~ Robert Frost
For some, the search for a ready-made soul mate is a lifelong, usually unfulfilled, journey. When we think of “soul mate,” we tend to envision a person who enters our life, rids it of flaws, perfects us indirectly, gives us everything we need, and sets our future into fantastical motion. Sounds egotistical, doesn’t it? To labor under the delusion that there is one being in the entire universe who will complete us…that until we unite with this one person, we will remain incomplete and miserable. That nothing we do in our lives matters until we meet, mark, and marry our soul mate…Is life not completely saturated with pressure as it is? Now the pressure is on to single-handedly find one person – a nameless, faceless stranger – on this massive planet out of billions upon billions upon billions. Our life, happiness, and success depend on it. Now, that’s pressure. And to think…we get stressed trying to meet deadlines, pay bills, and prevent our kids from “looking” at each other. A global search for a non-existent fairy tale should be a piece of cake…shouldn’t it? Why do we feel that we’re incomplete in the first place? And why does the fear of remaining incomplete scare us into hoping our other half is roaming the world in search of us as well? Will our need to feel grossly over-important ever cease? Will our quest for something bigger and better never end? Maybe the term “soul mate” needs further examining. Perhaps a “mateover.”
The term “soul mates” has been defined many ways. The dictionary defines it as “two people who share a deep affinity with one another…such as a husband, wife, lover…two people who are compatible with each other in disposition, point of view, or sensitivity.” Webster seems lacking, does it not? As long as two people are similar and in love, they can be soul mates? uh…no. How exactly does “soul” factor into that equation? It doesn’t. Webster is simply describing a suitable mate…but soul mate, no.
Soul mate tends to suggest a more mythical background. At least this is the idea movies, romance literature, and legends have bestowed upon us. Greek philosopher Plato’s definition seems a more excitingly tasty pill to swallow than Webster’s, but one of gargantuan size nonetheless…at least for me. Plato theorized that our soul must split in two before birth in order to indulge in the earthly experience…a male and female soul…that we represent only half of our soul and spend our lifetime searching for our other half. Once we find that half, we become whole and find peace and happiness. But until we find that missing half, we’re an empty shell… void of…well, life. This definition definitely brings “soul” into the equation, but abandons all sense of practicality. Imagine if this were true…that our other half is roaming the Earth somewhere and we must find him/her to achieve true love and happiness. We spend our days toiling away at our half-souled existence while our twin soul could be proposing to someone else in a quaint corner of a small bistro in Paris. He could be struggling to survive life in the crime-ridden streets of some forgotten country. He could be training a child in the ways of holding a gun and mindlessly murdering a stranger in Africa. He could be reading a paper on a subway in Japan. He could be scooping elephant poop in an Indian circus. Or, he could be in the restroom of your local McDonald’s as you order a cheeseburger, but you just miss him because you’re stuffing your face and not patrolling the john. You get my point. The odds are stacked so high against us finding one person on such an expansive planet…it’s a ridiculous notion. Take those odds and head to the casino…you’re much more likely to hit the jackpot.
If we spend our whole lives with binoculars glued to our face looking for something or someone who doesn’t exist, we may miss the one person who’s been under our nose the whole time…the one who would love us and accept us – flaws and all…the one we could be happy with if we’d stop waiting for the clouds to part, the birds to sing, and the world to suddenly make sense with every prospective spouse we meet. Reality…and life are waiting. Some hopeless romantics out there choose to ignore reality and wait patiently for their soul mate to find them. But they’ll be waiting for quite a while. Their soul mate (if defined as one’s long lost twin soul who will be perfect in every way and make life a virtual utopia) owns a timeshare in a magical faraway place with Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. Who knows when he’ll be back this way…
Maybe we need to redefine the term soul mate…understand that we aren’t limited to only one in our lifetime. Maybe a soul mate is a person we’re lucky enough to find in our corner of the Earth who is willing to love, respect, and put up with our ever changing faces through life’s many minefields. Maybe a soul mate isn’t magically found, but created. Once we find a person who meets these criteria, we work on a building relationship…and work it WILL be. As we grow closer, we share more, we become more connected mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Our souls respect the other, love the other, and appreciate the other. With this connection, or soul mate, we’re equipped to face the world…however ugly it may get…regardless of the land mines we must dodge…overcome adversity together, and come out as twin victors, rather than twin souls. As two individual souls who’ve chosen to compliment the other and venture through this amazing journey of life… not as two souls merging into one, but as two souls dancing alongside each other and each picking up the other when he trips over his two left feet.
Our accepted version of a soul mate is one that is centuries old, unrealistic, and damaging to our expectations…as is some of our most treasured very old, very idealistic, and very romantic movies, or classics. Sooner or later, most classics will face a remake, be rethought, and reinvented…a newer version of the same story. The fairy tale of soul mates is a story as old as time. So, maybe it’s “time” we end the troll for that mated soul…and recreate our perfect mate.