Becoming More Stream-like

I know, I know…who doesn’t, right? Excited to see your Sunday Boyfriend only to be stood up? Yep, I know…crummy. Looking forward to your favorite band’s concert only to come down with the flu the night before? Ah, yeah…been there, sister, it stinks! Walk into your house to find a surprise party for you, but most of your friends couldn’t make it and your significant other drunkenly says, “Well at least my friends love you,”? Oh you haven’t? Um…me neither.

Regardless, disappointment, for lack of a better term, sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks.

But with my overthinking tendencies, disappointing, or perceived disappointing news, no matter the severity, can put me in a tailspin. Some people, to my amazement, can shake off disappointment like crumbs from a cookie. Wipe it up, throw it out, never give it a second thought and effortlessly go back for another cookie. Me? I remember the first time I made a crumby mess and how sad it made me feel. I now stare at plates of cookies and debate whether or not I want to bother with the muddlement; all the while wishing I could have devoured the treat and be licking the extra chocolate from my fingers.

I’ve wished, I’ve hoped, I’ve prayed, and I’ve really tried to reverse my emotional chain reaction tendencies when feeling disappointed. But for me, in a nutshell, that feeling of being in a littered disappointment buries itself into feelings of being disliked, not worth it, unloved. I realize my baggage has a lot to do with this. And holding on to baggage is not good for you. I know. I get it. But my baggage is what it is. I am quite aware my baggage limits me and my relationships. Believe me; my baggage has cost me much. I am comforted by the fact that I have been working on it. What used to be luggage that required all the bellmen in the world to carry; is now down to a manageable bag or two. But habits die hard. The realization of working on my hang ups, as well as the awareness of being unable to reverse time or experiences, do little to soothe the severity of my angst. I am my worst critic.

Man, I would love to be eating that cookie right now.

So why do I share this?

Because lately I’ve been in the soul-sucking place I call doubt-land. I really hate doubt-land. Nothing gets done when you’re in doubt-land. And this, for me (a self-described go-getting control freak), is disappointing. I know I need to make some decisions to move forward, but I don’t because I’m overthinking every decision in an effort to not make the wrong decision. Stuck. In the same place, facing the same questions over and over and getting nowhere.

Crippling.

So how did I get here? Three events. One: a person from my past re-appeared. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but this person is heavily intertwined with the baggage I worked so hard to shed. Based on our past and our association, I realize it probably wasn’t easy for her to contact me. I will honor her words with a reply, but…I’m just not quite ready. Because to respond means I must revisit the person I used to be and the circumstances that surrounded our past. I’m certainly not the same person I was the last time we spoke. I’ve been given the great gift of time and perspective, and friendships and Sunday Boyfriends to help meld my new, improved, yet constantly-a-work-in-progress being. But when anyone is confronted with revisiting a difficult time, I think it’s fine to give pause. To not to, in my opinion, isn’t honoring who you are or the moment you’re in.

Two: As a result of this chance re-connection, I started asking myself some long, overdue questions. You know the ones. The questions of checking in to see if you’re where you said you’d be five or ten years ago. And while where I am now looks similar to what I thought I was working towards, those five and ten years brought more than just a current destination, they encapsulated a journey I never would have fathomed.

When we are in our teen years, the vision of the future seems timeless. At least it should. Five and 10 years into the future is a huge leap from young adult to adult. I remember the anticipation and excitement and possibilities. Over time, after being disappointed with the reality of dreams that weren’t what I expected (after killing myself to find out), it is difficult for me to become excited over any projections. No one really prepares you for what it’s like to get to a place you’ve always wanted to be, only to find out it isn’t what you thought it was or you aren’t the person you thought you were. It is a tough lesson to not only learn, but also to recover from. I’ve had to reinvent myself more than once because of these lessons. It’s exhausting and deflating at the same time. The end result usually leaves me questioning my decisions. It’s why I now stare at cookies.

Three: My significant other has surprised me (in a much better way than what I shared at the beginning of this piece) with a trip away for my birthday. He really went overboard with the planning details–which I must say is a nice, and interesting, change for someone who is always planning. Part of the gift was for me to gather friends for a dinner out. Again, a very lovely gift. I thank him for knowing what my needs are. There are definitely people I would like to see while on this trip, including two of my Sunday Boyfriends. But here comes my overthinking.

Yep. Habits die hard.

My significant other went to a lot of trouble and thought and care to put this trip together. I love him for it. And it’s because of this love that I worry about getting together with these two Sunday Boyfriends. I’ll be honest here…I love to flirt with my Sunday Boyfriends. It is more than just fun for me. I can’t turn off being me and enjoying the company of someone I care about. That enjoyment comes out as flirting. Nor do I want to be anyone other than me with friends, Sunday Boyfriends, my Significant Other. And let me be clear…my significant other is not asking me to be someone else. He never has. He wants me to be me and have fun with my friends and my Sunday Boyfriends. There is no stifling. It is exactly what every relationship should be—supporting and respectful. And I certainly hope he knows this is a two-way street.

So why worry?

Well, I guess it’s because there have only been a handful of times my Significant Other has had any interaction with any of my Sunday Boyfriends. And although both of the Sunday Boyfriends I would like to see while on this trip have been in my life, on and off, for years, they have yet to meet my Significant Other. So I suppose my overthinking comes from fear of the unknown. And being in that uneasy, unknown place may throw off who I am in their entire company. And I’m overthinking it. I know I am. It will be as it will be. But as it turns out, there may be a chance I see neither of these two Sunday Boyfriends. Yep. Here comes the disappointment on top of all the overthinking. Joy.

Because of my overthinking, I waited a couple of days to tell both Sunday Boyfriends I would be in town. Although I wanted to tell both of them right away, I needed to get to a comfortable place of knowing it is going to be okay to integrate my friendships. And when I got to the nitty gritty of it, I realized I’m not any different of a person when I’m with any of my Sunday Boyfriends than my friends or my Significant Other. I won’t suddenly self-combust. I won’t suddenly become a different person. I’ll just be me and everything will be fine.

Then I got to work planning a dinner for everyone to get together. My thought was it would be easier, and wonderful, to see everyone together. Once I got comfortable with it, a blending of personalities to feed off of each other just sounded like a wonderful birthday. When all was organized, I contacted guests, including these two Sunday Boyfriends. While it isn’t for weeks, it appears both SBs have possible work conflicts with the scheduled dinner and cannot commit to a gathering. Both are on stand-by. And it’s funny. Not in a ha-ha way, but ironic way. All that energy to get to the point of creating an environment to see them, and I may not see either. Funny.

I tried to shrug the disappointment, but I need to let you in on a secret…the last time I was in this town, and tried to see both these SBs, I ended up seeing neither. Remember that first disappointment at the beginning of this post? Yep. Sucks.

So now what? Well, my first reaction was covered in hypersensitive disappointment because I really didn’t want to go through those same deflated, not worth it, disliked and unloved feelings I felt last time. Stupid baggage.

But here’s the thing. I don’t want to be stagnant. I’ve never done well being stagnant. Like standing water, icky things start to accumulate, in me, around me. Whenever I find myself disappointed or stuck in doubt, I can’t help but think if puddles yearn to be streams: free flowing, moving themselves, moving things. There are days I wish I was a stream.

So, to become a stream, it is clear I need to do something. Doing something is better than just looking at that plate of cookies. To start, I’m going to make a re-connection with this person from my past, and soon. I’ll just take a little bit more time to make sure I say everything I need, want, should say. After a conversation, I’ll figure out if I want to go any deeper. Then, I’m going to cut myself some slack and enjoy where I am rather than focusing on how I got here. And finally, I’m going to let go of the idea that just because I continue to have poor timing with two of my SBs, that doesn’t mean they don’t care.

Here’s hoping all of us become more stream-like and enjoy chocolate from our fingers.

As always, stay comfy and be good to yourself and all your Sunday Boyfriends.

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