Tell Me Your Secret

“Tell me your secret” was a comment on a Facebook photo of the handyman and me. An adorable couple picture from a trip we took to Napa when we first started dating. When I first read it I wanted to reply and say there is no secret. This man is a train wreck and all you see are happy photos because this is Facebook. You want to know the secret to dating near 40? People are broken. 

That’s the secret. Every person dating at my age is broken. Heart broken with some massive damage to trust and self esteem. Every one of us is carrying the burden of lovers lost. The mistakes of the ones me drove away. The heart ache of betrayal by a person we invested in, and trusted. We are all broken. 

The secret is love. Real love. Not the what can you do for me love but the kind of love that just says, I’m going to be the best version of myself for you. I’m going to love and respect you and navigate this relationship purposefully trying to do the very least amount of damage to you. I’m going to hope and pray we work out but I’m going to love you so much that if we don’t, I want what’s best for you and hope you find what you need. The secret is a selfless love with low expectations and a massive amount of commitment. 

Crazy right? Sounds like setting yourself up for heartbreak and failure. If I have no expectations for the handyman. For the time he allocates to me and this relationship. No expectations of the way he loves me, how he tells me he loves me, how he shows me he loves me. No expectations for his side of this, I just know I love him and I am committed. How can that possible work?! 

Frankly, I don’t know. I’ve not ever tried it this way. But my mother who is happily married to the love of her life and found him at 38; has always told me to lower my expectations and up my commitment. 

I think this kind of love takes a like minded person. A man with a relationship with God that holds him accountable to something much higher than his loyalty to a girl he’s been dating a few months. That he has to know how to lower his expectations of me too. That he isn’t expecting me to only do and act the way he needs but that he is allowing space for me to be who I am and honor what I want in life and love as well. I think it takes two people lowering expectations and upping there commitment in the hard times. 

That’s exactly what I did last week. When the pain and trauma and the world felt like too much crashing around the handyman. When the only part of life he felt he could exercise control over was our relationship and he demanded space. He wanted to end it so it wasn’t a burden. I didn’t walk away. I lowered my expectations and I upped my commitment. 

I stopped forcing my level of communication on him. I stopped expecting him to know and understand all of the thoughts running through this head. I paused my “so many words”. I stepped back in the day to day and only sought moments of convenience as how I could be in his life. I showed him my love and commitment by serving him. One of my most dominant love languages is acts of service. So instead of demanding time and attention from him. I gave him back his time and let him control his focus. 

The results were great for both of us. I was more focused at work. I had a greater sense of accomplishment in my day to day. I enjoyed the couple of coffees I dropped by and I solved a problem every time I stepped foot onto his job site. I made my presence as much as a help and benefit as possible. In return, I got a happy loving boyfriend. 

He slowly came out of his hardened shell. He slowly relaxed back into the space our relationship takes up in his life. He started to see the value and trust that we aren’t a depletion of time and resources. He saw my independence again. He took space and he looked forward to seeing me for an afternoon coffee. He took time to drink a glass of wine and unwind with me late night after a 12 hour long work day. He met me at the gym on Friday when I was going anyway. 

When I asked for a plan for Sunday and told him what I wanted and he said no because he already had an idea in his head but then he included me and Maddie in his day. I felt like that was how it was supposed to be. 

He stepped up for me too. He called in the morning and he called at night. He took on my need for communication in the times that I wanted it most. We had days to catch up on and full eachother in on. He listened and advised when I had problems arise. 

So the secret to my seemingly happy relationship is a whole lot of patience wrapped in even more trust, with an unwavering amount of commitment and persistence even when he is ready to toss in the towel and take a vow of celibacy as a beer making monk. It’s not always easy and it’s definitely not comfortable. It goes against every selfish human  instinct that comes naturally. But it’s worth it. This man I wish he saw himself the way I see him. I wish he understood his value and the way I love all his pieces. Maybe someday he will. But for now I’ll just take the moments we have together and be so thankful he is mine. 

The End of the Cougar... and Other Lessons.

THIS WEEKEND WAS PERFECT. This week was restorative. Last weekend was harder than it should be. This relationship has tested my resilience. This man has pressed all my boundaries. He has let his damage drive his decision making and he has TESTED me. 

Sunday the Cougar reared her ugly head for what I hope is the last time. But a part of me has to be kind of thankful. I am thankful for the 3 hours of emotional conversations that followed. The decision that the temptation of her wasn't nearly as appealing as he originally thought. I am thankful for the raw communication between us and the disapproving looks from his mother at the thought of being untrue to me. I am thankful it was a tipping point. 

I can't bring myself to get more into the details but basically, she contacted me again after reading a strategically placed facebook post. It might be beneficial to know that I create Digital Strategy for giant companies for a living. That I tell people how to use Facebook/Instagram, Twitter, Youtube, and all other forms of Google to drive their desired results. It probably also would make sense that I have used social media as a form of accountability when dating the sex addict. I know how to extract the information I am looking for; I am the reason you think Facebook can read your mind. 

So for as real, vulnerable, and on my heart the post about being chosen was... it was also public, and at an opportune time to be searched by someone checking to see if the Handyman was still with me. 

We had a good weekend. Our Saturday was amazing. I met his youngest son, who I get along with smashingly. We found lots of common ground and I know our time together made the Handyman's heart simultaneously sore, and leap out of his chest in terror. 

Decisions were made. My persistent, confident, no nonsense personalty took over and I decided that this relationship, was still worth it. But HE decided more than me. He realized what he was doing. The self sabotage, how much he loved me. He owned up to his mistakes. He tried to push me away. But ultimately, he gave me exactly what I needed. 

I think it is important to note, this is not the norm. That the calm manner I have been able to handle these fractures in our trust is nothing less than divine. I am not the jealous crazy person to the extent that I have known myself to be. I am forgiving. I am not interested in keeping score. I understand his thought process, his pain, and what pushed him to any point. I see his issues as his, and I am not owning them as my own. It was never for me to figure out. It was all about him and I can tell you I would certainly rather go through these growing pains early. I want the questions in our compatibility to come quick. I don't want to be a year in and be blindsided by this shit, and a lot of women are... 

If you are going to look for better, look for better sooner rather than later. AND by all means realize you are a moron. Just stop. 

So after that teary evening together, hashing out all our pain and fears. Monday he hit the therapist... Thank GOD. I was a little weary of what he might say. Too much too quick. This is too serious. What are you doing... But no, he was so encouraging of the finality and moving forward. He encouraged him to be happy. To not punish himself. Even better than that, he said stop being a shithead. That isn't you. You aren't Chuck's Mistress. Go be the man you want to be. 

That is what it took, because I could tell him until I am blue in the face, you are making decisions that are out of character. But it wouldn't matter. It doesn't have any weight coming from me: Don't be an unfaithful dick, not for me, but because that isn't you, and you have to live with you. Don't lie because lying makes you feel guilty and horrible and you are the one that lives with those horrific feelings of betrayal. 

It means nothing when I say it, but his trusted advisor... That is what we needed. 

So here we are a Disney vacation later and we are stupid happy. I am so confident in who he is and what we are doing. This is the man. This is the steadfast, loyal, capable, caretaker that I fell in love with instantly. This man that knows me and reads me, and manages my meltdowns, that feels my stress. He is exactly what I have hoped for and wanted my entire life. 

We are so obnoxiously in love people comment on it. A woman sitting across from us at a restaurant bar, after hours of watching us interact and talk, and kiss and just love on each other yelled; "you are a lucky girl." Before I could ever respond, he said, "no I am the lucky one." I just added, "I know, I am so unbelievably lucky. We are lucky. We know we are so lucky." 

It is that kind of connection I have always wanted. The one other people see and think, how? What do they have? Because the answer is, we built this thing on faith and Jesus. It was when I stopped trying to control it. When I became ok completely alone. It was when he stopped looking for superficial wins. Man, when we relinquished control and just said ok God, I see you. This feels right. That is when my heart was blessed by a man that quietly prays over me when I lay on his shoulder. That out loud lifts my baby's safety and security and happiness up before her big weekend. That tears up like a parent when she WINS. He loves me well and I have said that since day 1. Despite our growing pains, our questions, and our damage. He loves me like I have never been loved before and I am as #blessed as they come because of it. 

So it wasn't a perfect week. There were tears, it was a busy one. But damn we really made an effort, and a commitment to eachother this week. For that I am so grateful.