Tag Archives: personality

Attachment

This morning I did an analytic meditation on attachment. Our fancy phone, our partner, our lifestyle and many other objects, people and ideas can be sources.

I’ve often had disappointment in love and today I realised why. Previously I have projected desired good qualities onto a boyfriend and then expected him to behave in a way that I would. Just because I am chatty and physically affectionate I sometimes expect a partner to be as well. We often expect a boyfriend, girlfriend, fiance, husband to be like us. For example we might plan a big surprise party when they prefer the company of a few good friends. We need to appreciate differences in personality of those we are close to. It’s also important to recognise the difference between love and attachment, because often they feel like the same thing.

Attachment makes us behave in a way which often runs contrary to who we really are and destroys our peace of mind. We might be clingy or bombard someone with texts, thinking that the more we contact them, the more likely they are to answer. Of course the opposite is true. We develop unrealistic expectations of those we love, expecting them  to always be there and make us happy. Our mood can go up and down depending on what’s happening in our relationships. We might feel hurt by a partner’s behaviour when in fact we just need to understand. It always helps to try and see things from their perspective.

Perhaps we get into dysfunctional relationships because we don’t want to be alone, because we’re in love with the idea of love or because we try to fool ourselves that we are compatible when we are not.

We may plan our days around our partners. But really we should get on with our own lives, our own independent journey. If they want to join us then that’s great but if they don’t, don’t lose sight of who you are and what you want to achieve. Only you can shape your future.

YouCanDoIt

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Filed under Advice, Life of Lydia

The Beginning (Our First Date)

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I think it’s time to tell you about my first date.

Recently we celebrated our anniversary. I want to make a patchwork quilt of experiences that I can look back on when times aren’t as rose-tinted and to keep them fresh. You never know, I could by some freak chance (and I seem to have rather too many of them), end up like the girl in the film “50 first dates” and need reminding.

So, let me tell you about that night…

We had been messaging each other for two weeks and had found out the basics. He had two sisters, he was the oldest,  he was a Scout leader, he was an engineer.

I’d seen his photographs and his description: “tall, dark and handsome, well tall and dark, you can make your mind up about the rest”.

I’d told him he was tall and handsome, but not particularly dark-haired. We discovered that we shared some friends, having gone to neighbouring schools, that we lived in the same area and even went to the same weekend running event.

I carefully selected a knee-length blue wool dress with sleeves, which I wore with black tights. It was blue which brought out my eyes. I straightened my hair and applied subtle make-up. I cinched in my waist with a thin leather belt. I decided on flats – I can feel self-conscious in heels and I needed to feel comfortable. I took my small purple leather handbag which made any outfit feel classy.

I arrived at the venue with my heart in my mouth. We had arranged to meet at 8.15 on a Friday night. I scanned the room and couldn’t see him. I felt dazzled by the lights. I went straight to the bar. There was a bit of a wait, so I nervously checked my phone.

He had text to say he would be about 15 minutes late, he had been visiting a friend. So I asked what drink he would like, keen to reverse the stereotype that the man buys the woman a drink on the first date. He said “bottle of beer? surprise me”. What a wide choice, I had been hoping for something more specific, more foolproof for a girl whose only dabbling with alcohol involved Malibu and the occasional cocktail.

“Excuse-me”, I asked the bartender, “what’s your finest ale”? I’d heard ale was classier than beer and if I got the right one I thought I would definitely be a hit.

He looked at me sideways, frowning slightly. “Sorry?” he replied. I raised my voice a little and stood on my tip-toes so he could hear me better, “what is your finest ale?!”.

He still looked a bit puzzled so I explained in more hushed tones, “I’m on a first date and I asked him if he wanted a drink, and he said he wanted beer or something”.

He saved me the embarrassment of repeating myself. “Ohh” he said, grinning. Well…I wouldn’t recommend ale to be honest because there’s too much choice, you could quite easily pick the wrong one. But in terms of beer…Peroni’s probably the best one we sell here.”

“Ok, I smiled, relieved,”I’ll have that please”.

I found half a table in the corner that was free. There was a happy couple on the other side and they didn’t have a problem with me sitting there. I was still feeling rather anxious, and struggled to steady my breathing. So I looked around to distract myself. Damn. I’d chosen the wrong place. This was a middle-aged wine bar. Would he judge me on my choice?

It took me a while to get comfortable. Should I sit cross-legged? No, not good for the circulation and would make me look too unavailable. Or was that a good thing? Should I sit with my back to the room to look more mysterious? No that was a silly idea. I shifted about, fiddling with my silver bead necklace, checking my hair was still neat. By the time he arrived some 20 minutes later, I was feeling completely relaxed. I had drunk about half of my Malibu and coke, and had decided to sit facing the room with one arm on the table, laid back but not slouchy, attempting to project an air of sophistication.

Suddenly I saw him and life became cinematic. The clock seemed to stop and sound faded as I zoomed in. In a bar full of those near pension-age he stood out like a sore thumb. It seemed like there was a halo of fuzzy light around him. I blinked to refocus.

I decided to observe him and let him notice me. Then I’d have a little more time to check him out, seeing as this was the first time we had met in person.

The first thing I noticed was that he had lovely skin. He looked like he looked after himself. He had a nice neat haircut (he later admitted he’d had it cut that day) and a good figure.

Then I noticed his eyes – dark, bright, intelligent eyes darting about looking for me. But what a pity about his attire – he’d opted for a hoodie and jeans. He hadn’t put much thought into that. But at least he looked like the photographs.

He walked right past me and was about to look outside,  so I announced my presence. He visibly relaxed a little, flashed me a dazzling smile and settled down next to me, gratefully accepting the Peroni.

I asked him about his work. He clearly enjoyed talking about what he did and I was intrigued. We talked…and talked.

From there we went over the road into a square to a bar with a French name and red, dimmed lighting. He bought me a drink and another Peroni for himself. The choice was a good one then. We chatted about running and he showed me the impressive jog routes he’d done on his phone. We went on to a Cuban-themed bar, with salsa music and lovely cocktails. 

All too soon the night had come to an end. We didn’t want to miss the last bus home and we took that together, seeing as he lived nearby. As he left, he bent down and we nearly bumped heads as he clumsily kissed me on the cheek.

I was enjoying single life and I thought “if I don’t see him again I’ve had a great night and I’m pleased we met.” But a bigger part of me was drunk with excitement (the only drunk you should get on a date) and couldn’t wait to see when and where date two would be. Hopefully soon. But did he like me? Did I score enough points to make it through the first hurdle?

He text at midnight saying he’d had a good night, with kisses. Two. Things looked promising…

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Filed under Days out/nights out, Life of Lydia

Selfishness

Last night...

Last night…

I was woken this morning by the sound of the toilet flushing, then a door banging. Just as I settled back to sleep the neighbour started up with his pneumatic drill of a water pump, hosing down his car and then presumably the drive for about half an hour. Even when both are clean he continues, enjoying the sense of power and the manly whirring noise as he revs it. Like a big boys’ version of a trial bike and he has a motorbike as well. Then mum rubbed it in about how she watched my friend and I waiting for a bus when she could see one waiting up the road. We waited for 15 minutes before we walked to the bus stop down the road and waited another half an hour until one finally came and this was with two services. It was 20 minutes late, no explanation given.

Apparently a bus driver actually said this on a forum! http://www.boards.ie/vbulletin/showthread.php?p=80803098

We could make a real difference just by thinking of others more. Of course I am prone to selfishness too, it’s all too easy to be thoughtless and self-absorbed. But when I put myself in the other person’s shoes I find myself changing my behaviour for the better, becoming more thoughtful and sensitive.  I think the opposite of selfishness is generosity such as sharing, taking our focus off the “I”. Last night a guy gave my friend and I free drinks from his bucket for example. I’m a believer in the “pay it forward” movement – it’s the little things in life that make a big difference. Sometimes though, a grand gesture is much appreciated – I was so grateful to my boyfriend yesterday when he picked up ear plugs on his shopping trip and drove them round, I enjoyed a night out without whistling ears, and my friend selflessly sat with me every time I had sore feet at the rave. Judging is selfish. When we measure up others we compare them to ourselves. But we’re all unique, we all have individual stories and often, the person making assumptions knows little or nothing about that person. So next time you find yourself thinking you know a book by its cover think again. First impressions count for a lot but they are not everything. People have so many sides to their character that they can often surprise us.

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