Here, There and Everywhere

Posts tagged ‘mate’

The Three F’s of Love

51p2DTm4dqLPamela’s Love Collection by Pamela Cummins. Reviewed by Gabriel Constans.

A helpful group of writings from the author’s articles, blogs, and columns, for single people looking for a mate. Pamela’s Love Collection is a breath of fresh air that tends to focus on the emotional and practical aspects of connecting with others, as opposed to the entire conversation being about sex, which take up most of the space in other articles about relationships. Pamela’s Love Collection is speaks directly to heterosexual women seeking a male partner, though what is contained within applies to any combination of adult relationships.

The first section (The Early Years) includes Love Is In the Air – Tips for Singles; Are You Ready for Love; and The Key to a Successful Relationship: Self-Love. These musings talk about how, and where to meet people; how to know if someone is a good match, and most importantly, what is your attitude about meeting new people. The next part (Pamela’s Psychic Insights) are antidotes and words about relationships that have come through the author. The next inclusion (The Three F’s of Love) are about the process of seeking and maintaining positive relationships (Focus, Fun and Be Friends). The final set (The Love Channel) has Ms. Cummings (or her guides) answering specific questions from readers, such as, “Will I ever find a spiritual man?”.

Pamela’s Love Collection feels very personal. It is like sitting down with your best girlfriend and having an honest, deep discussion about finding “the one”, and how to know when you have. Though it has been said a thousand times, Ms. Cummins explains not only why “loving one’s self” is vital, but also what that means, and how to do it. If you can’t stand yourself, and/or don’t like your own company, why should you expect another person to do the same with you. Nobody else can fill up what isn’t already there. Don’t pretend. Be yourself. You are perfect as you are, and you may also need to change.

Teen Romance

imagesCindy was a mature woman of sixteen. I was an immature man of eighteen. We met in the afternoon at a teen drop-in center, gazed hopelessly into one another’s eyes, like puppy dogs, and within hours were talking about hooking up. That night we slept together for the first time and I was in heaven. I’d had several previous relationships, but none had ever been this intense or instantaneous.

Within a week Cindy had her mother’s permission to live with me and my grandmother said we could rent her trailer. Everything was set. Life was good. Cindy taught me the joy of sexual freedom and living in the moment and I obediently followed her every wish and whim to “make her happy”. I was so enmeshed in the sensations of the relationship that I failed to recognize my co-dependent and needy behavior. In my mind sex and love were one and the same.

I continued working at a counseling center and Cindy finished up her last year of high school. I studied Eastern religions on the side and she enjoyed drawing and working part-time at a florist shop. The only “minor” issue was that I couldn’t “make her happy” or give her the answers she was seeking. We were two young teenagers growing up together who had no idea what we were doing, what we wanted or where we were going.

After two tumultuous years we figured the answer to our dilemma was to get married. Why not? Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do? And even though it didn’t mean much to us at the time, we figured the worst that could happen is that we’d receive a lot of cool presents! Getting married was “just a piece of paper” we reasoned. Both of our parents had divorced and we knew we’d “always be together” regardless of any societal contract we may sign.

The wedding turned out as planned. All of our friends and relatives showed up at the reception, we got plastered and received a lot of money and presents. But after the money was spent and the wedding hangover wore off, the realities of what we had done creeped into our daily lives. We didn’t know what being married meant. I thought it implied getting a “steady job” and having children. So, I obtained a nine to fiver at the local phone company and we talked about having kids and buying a house. Lukily, neither the house nor the kids worked out because a year later it was splits-ville, as in divorce, finale, kaput, the end.

Screaming was the only thing that finally got my attention. Slamming the door shut behind her, Cindy entered the living room late one evening and yelled at the top of her lungs, “I can’t live with you anymore. I want a divorce!”

“Why,” I pleaded. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Why don’t you stand up for yourself? Will you be real with me just once?”

“OK,” I replied, “What do you want me to say?”

“You don’t understand do you?” she replied. I sat silently with my head in my hands. After a deathly silence she quietly said, “I just need some space to be by myself. I moved in with you right from home. I’ve never been on my own.”

“So it’s nothing I’ve done or said?” I asked, my lip quivering.

“No, its not you,” she said.

In fact, it had a lot to do with me. She moved out a few days later and in a month was living with another guy.

Her decision to leave was not entirely out of the blue. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, she had been trying to separate for months. Other than running away, she had given me every clue possible, but I was blind. Her anger and judgments were an attempt to alienate me. She had thrown every name in the book my direction, at one time or another, assuming I’d leave. But like a faithful lap dog I had kept coming back for more.

At one point she insisted I sleep with her friend Lewellen and that we have an “open relationship”. I tried to do as she wished and acted like it was all cool, but it wasn’t. It turns out that the reason she had wanted me to be with other women was because she had already been having affairs with some of my best friends and I assume would have felt less guilty about her own behavior if I’d done the same.

When she left my bubble burst. I thought it was the end of the world. My dependence on her “being happy” as an indicator of my well-being had been total and complete. In the process of making her “OK”, I’d forgotten about myself; my wishes, desires, joys, ambitions and dreams. I had no sense of who “I” was or what made me happy.

Time didn’t heal anything, but it did give me some perspective. Clearly, I had sacrificed what little sense of my self I had ever had for Cindy. As long as I left all decisions to her it would be “her fault” whenever something didn’t work out. I was absolved from all wrong doing. I could blame her for everything. I could wallow in my self-pity and externalize all my troubles. “She did it, not me. She lied to me. She left me. She hurt me.”

I slowly recognized that I had made decisions by not deciding. I had lied to myself. I was equally responsible for our breakup. She tried to force me to be honest and state my needs, but I had cowered from the task. Shock tactics and reasoning never worked. Getting a divorce was what it finally took for me to wake up. It was the brick wall I needed to run into. If Cindy had not had the courage to leave I may have been lingering in a false identity for eons.

Like a snake that sheds it’s skin but still longs for its security, I kept aching for Cindys return. Even though I learned many things about myself since the divorce, images of us getting back together still lingered with sweet agony. Intellectually, I understood such images were fantasy, but my dependence on her for my well-being had been so complete that it took constant reality bites to loosen my grasp and let go of her as my emotional crutch.

Attachment is a strange thing; it can cause bliss and joy or pain and sorrow and you can’t have one without the other. When I grasped for love with Cindy I actually pushed it away with my wanting and neediness. She lost respect for me. The thing I wanted most didn’t want me. There was no substance or core to who I was. I decided to never put all my cookies in one jar. Until I knew who I was and what I wanted, I would not become involved with another woman. I silently swore that I’d never become so dependent on another for my happiness and well-being.

Such self-promises proved to be fruitless. Three more women entered my front door over the next three years and sooner or later left out the back porch. Each time I “knew” it was different than before. But sure enough, as each relationship ended and I had some perspective, it become clear that I couldn’t hide a wolf in sheep’s clothing. No matter how much I wanted to think I had changed, my basic behavior in response to each situation had been the same. They decided when to do what and when the relationship was over; not I. It wasn’t until a conflicted eight-year marriage ended, that I took responsibility and made a painful choice to leave.

After many years I believe I’ve finally figured out how to love and be loved, but I know that isn’t the most original idea that’s ever been planted in my head. I’ve been known to tell myself the most wonderful stories; and they always have happy endings. Every woman I met was the girl of my dreams. It wasn’t until I became more of who it was I was looking for, that I woke up and found the partner I’d been seeking in all my fantasies.

It’s All Good

Happy Ever After by Nora Roberts. From New York Journal of Books.

51gfDegqlHLRight from the start, you know what’s going to happen. The short paragraph on the back cover gives the ending away without saying it. Every lover of romance will instantly understand what the story is about, how the plot will unfold, and what will probably happen with the characters. In spite of the lack of mystery or suspense, millions of readers will devour it anyway. Why? Because it makes you feel good and takes you to a world where everyone meets the perfect mate, has a job they love, and engages in fantastic sex.

A little piece of the book’s best-selling author, Nora Roberts, seeps into the pages when Parker Brown (the main character) says the following about her parents: “The Browns worked. They built and they produced and never, never sat back to laze on accomplishment.” This line seems most apropos for Ms. Roberts, who has published 29 novels, 10 series (with 3 to 4 books in each), The Remember When Collection with J. D. Robb (with 30 titles), 11 anthologies, and has contributed to 7 other compilations. That is close to 100 works of the written word! Ms. Roberts either has a winning formula she pulls out of a hat to produce one title after another, loves writing and/or works her ass off, never stopping to “laze on accomplishment.” Perhaps it is a combination of all three.

Devoted voyeurs will not care what motivates the author, they will simply want to plunge into Happy Ever After and go for the ride with Parker Brown and her best friends Laurel, Emma, and Mac, as they start their wedding event business and look for love. Introduce the fiery, handsome, and unpredictable mechanic, Malcolm Kavanaugh, and you have the makings of a romantic dream come true. There are, of course, ups and downs, separations and coming back together, but the happy ending is never in doubt.

The book is like a Disney movie for grown-ups. The motherly cook to the girls, Mrs. Grady, has all the answers and insights one would expect for her years and having known and worked for the Brown family since Parker and her friends were all little girls; and the four girlfriends are always helping one another and understanding what the other needs, before they do themselves. At one point in the story, Parker sums up this pervading sentiment when she realizes, “Her family, everyone she loved and cherished, would soon be together. And that, she knew, was what made a home.”

There is no need to have read the previous titles in this series, The Bride Quartet. It stands well enough on its own. The work situations at Vow (Parker’s wedding company) seem spot on, and a painful experience from Malcolm’s childhood is beautifully conveyed. Much like Parker, who is the last to see that she is falling for Malcolm, you may find yourself halfway through the book before you realize that it has sucked you in for the ride, in spite of or perhaps because of, its predictability or undisguised happy climax. As Mrs. Grady says about her girl Parker, “The girl wants love, and with it the rest she grew up with; that kind of partnership, respect, friendship. She’ll never settle for less, and shouldn’t.”

For Nora Robert’s fans, Happy Ever After is a story that provides exactly what you want and expect in your relationship with her books. And for the few who are new to this genre or author, it wouldn’t hurt to pick up a copy and let yourself dream of all the good things to come.

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