The Best Of Me

The love of my life :)

My husband and I had a really great conversation a while ago. We were out for a drive, having coffee, and we talked about how we interact with each other versus how we are with our close friends. We both concluded that we act with much more patience and grace with our friends and families than we do with each other. Isn't that backwards?

My husband is my best friend, truly. He has been one of the only steadfast, loyal, completely trustworthy people in my life in the years that we have been together. Yes, I have many friends and a few close friends that I share in my life with. But with most of those people, save for one or two, I am particular about the aspects of my life that I share with them, affording them glimpses into certain areas and closing off other areas to them, like a red velvet rope at a museum; they may wonder what is behind it, what would happen if they touched it, but are not given that opportunity. I think back to someone that I considered a close friend for years. We knew each other for a long time and were involved in a lot of the same activities at church and in school, but there were parts of my life, huge parts of my life, that I chose not to let her in on for fear of judgement because of her lack of understanding. I operate in this manner for the vast majority of my relationships.

Being my best friend, the person that I love spending my time and life with much more than anyone else, my husband should get the best of me. I should be able to have more patience, more grace, more understanding for him. But that's just not how it is. He doesn't get the worst of me, but he doesn't get my best. I am impatient, crude, uncaring and without grace at times. I get annoyed easily and jump to conclusions even in the instances that I know him better than that.

But the terrible thing is that I would never treat a friend like that. If there was something that a friend did or said that would cause me to step back and evaluate, I would ask for clarification rather than get upset. I am much less likely to become angry or annoyed with a friend than I am with my best friend and companion. Why is that?

We talked about it a bit more, saying that perhaps it's because of security. I know that if I were to fly off the handle, or be repeatedly annoyed and without grace, he will still be there tomorrow. And maybe it's safety. I know that I am safest with my husband, so maybe I feel more able to explore harsher emotions. I don't necessarily feel that same sense of security with my friends. A friend has the ability to walk away from the relationship because of a bad day. They are not obliged in any way to stick around . I know that, because I have walked away from relationships before with little warning or emotion. Maybe it's a fear of being walked away from that causes me to intentionally treat those I consider friends well consistently.

But this is not right! I am not saying that one should treat their friends with the same disregard as their partner. But if I am giving grace and goodness to my friends, then my husband should get that and more. He should get the absolute best of me. I should treat him with more love, with more grace and patience than anyone else in my world.

So we made a commitment. We helped each other become aware of this tendency, as we both struggle with it, and have committed to changing this trend in our relationship, a trend that we have seen in the marriages and committed relationships that our friends are engaged in as well. We have committed to try to give each other the best of ourselves. This will take time; we are certainly not perfect at it. But we are willing to try as best we can to first mimic the character that we display in our friendships, and then one day surpass that and give more to each other. He is my love, my life. He deserves the best of me.

-SP

Random Meeting

I ran into someone last night that I haven't seen in years. It was the most random meeting ever. When I knew him, he lived in a town just outside of Edmonton where I lived. I suppose you could call him an old flame, of sorts. We didn't get overly involved, but for the brief time that we were seeing each other, I fell hard and fast. He was charming, charismatic, funny, and somewhat daring. I was instantly hooked, although most people on the outside looking in failed to see his appeal.

A couple of people I would love to randomly see

The end of this story is obvious. My frail heart was broken when he told me that he didn't want to be with me. I was so intent on finding 'the one' that I made him fit into my perfect little mold for what my husband should be. I was also reeling from a break up, and though it had occurred months before I was still trying to find any possible means to move forward. I suppose I was trying to win the break up, for all you HIMYM fans out there.

It was a whirlwind relationship. We met randomly, became interested in each other, went out to dinner, met each other's friends, and found out that we had some mutual connections. Actually, I met one of my best friends through him. Then things went south very quickly. He told me the day after my grad that he didn't want to be with me. Then rumours circulated amongst the people that were in our limo that he hooked up with this other girl in my year who I didn't really know at all. She told this to my best friend, who in turn told me. I was so hurt. I asked him about it, and to this day have no idea what really happened, although I don't think that a random girl would make up that story for attention.

I saw him a few times after that, but it was never the same. There wasn't that same excitement in the friendship. I didn't trust him and was very careful around him. He introduced me to some people that he knew, people that I still maintain strong relationships with, but we lost touch later on. I deleted him from my facebook account when I did a thorough spring cleaning a couple years back. He then went to a couple of our mutual friends asking about it, which I found really hilarious. I was surprised that he even noticed, he has so many 'friends' on facebook. Then I ran into him at the mall, and he asked me about it, and I just kind of shrugged him off and moved on. We hadn't spoken since.

I have been interested in how he is doing. He dated another girl for a while. They were engaged, actually, and they broke up. Her and I were acquaintances, and when she told me her side of the story I found it difficult not to side with her considering our own tainted history. But it was none of my business, really, so I carried on with my own life, asking people about him once in a while and creeping his facebook whenever I thought to (which wasn't very often).

Then not long ago, my best friend saw him in Edmonton. I hadn't heard a single thing about him for a long time, so it was this blast from the past. We texted about how weird that is, and then put it to rest. The last night, I was walking through a mall in Calgary, and there he was. I didn't notice him at first, my husband is the one who recognized him. I turned around, we made eye contact, and at that point it was either we pretend it didn't happen or actually say hello. He called me by my maiden name, as he always did, and we said hello.

It was good to see him. He looks the same as he always has. He is operating his own business with a partner, putting ghost armour on phones (great product, check it out if you have a smart phone). He seems to be in good health, happy, but is living a gypsy lifestyle. He lives in Vancouver, but flies between three cities running his business, so he doesn't have a place to call home. I wonder how he deals with that; that would be really hard on me. But I think that the best thing about that whole exchange is that he and I both seem happy. While I don't know how his quality of life is, I know my own and it is excellent. It was good to connect without the resentment that once haunted his very name. It was good to see him. And just like the day we met, it was the last place that I would have expected to see him. True to the relationship, I suppose.

-SP

It's Not You, It's Me

I love watching The Bachelor. I love watching these crazy girls pine after one guy, doing whatever they can to attract his attention and gain his trust while fending off other crazy girls. They get jealous, desperate, and dramatic and I find the whole ordeal entirely entertaining. I am a sucker for this type of 'reality' television. Perhaps it's because I have some sort of weird, deeper connection to the people involved, as it reminds me of my high school self and my first relationship. Their desperation is hilarious now, and I curl up with a blanket and popcorn every Monday night to watch and laugh my butt off for two hours, but in high school it wasn't funny at all. It was my reality, and it hurt.

I have written about this in part before. I dated this guy in high school. He seemed mature and ready to commit to a relationship. Perhaps he was, but we wanted different things from the beginning, and instead of me standing up for myself and telling him what I really wanted, I tried to change and bend to him and what he wanted so that he wouldn't leave. It was all this desperate attempt to be loved and valued, but I don't think he ever knew who I really was. And in the meantime, I put all my self-worth in him, in this human, imperfect man who could never be my sole source of fulfillment. That's not his place, just like it's not my husband's place. I know that now, but I sure didn't then.

My life after we broke up was so melancholy and dramatic. It seemed like every day, I was going to school and telling my friends about something else that happened, or another memory I was trying to forget, or another conversation we had. I would take the bus home or to work, and depending on where I was going my bus stop could be literally right outside his house. I would peer over at the window out the corner of my eye, hoping to catch a glimpse of him watching me. It might be some indication that he still cared for me.

He started dating someone else a couple months after we broke up, but our relationship was one of those; it clearly wasn't over. I felt like he kept stringing me along. He asked me to wait for him, whilst he dated this other girl. I felt like I was better than her. I felt I was better for him. I felt like he was missing out, and this other woman was to blame for us not being together. He deepened his relationship with her, and I slowly started to lose grip. At one time, I was content to wait. I would do anything he asked as long as it meant that in the end, he would be with me again. I wanted to marry him, I wanted to have his children, I thought that he completed me. And then I saw them together.

She loved him. She loved him so much. It was written all over her face. And he loved her back. I tried to convince myself that he loved me more, that our bond was stronger, but I was jealous and exhausted of waiting and the constant games. I told him soon after that I was done waiting. And he chose her. I was devastated. I wrote songs and I talked more frequently with friends. I told and retold stories, and relied heavily on the negative comments that any one may have about him for closure.

They broke up some time later. Him and I hadn't talked in a while. I'm a little sparse on some details, this was a long time ago and truly it all feels like a blur. Everything kind of melts together. He called me after they broke up. I was happy and confused. But I wasn't nearly as cautious as I should have been. We went on a few dates, I began to invest in him again no matter how hurt I was. I thought I needed him, so I was glad for the opportunity to have him in my life again. But he wasn't done with this other girl, either. They saw each other a couple times because of circumstance, and they kissed. I couldn't handle it anymore. We ended it, this time for good (I think). I remember being on MSN with him a little while after, and he asked me something that made it very easy to put him in the past. And while it did take a while, I was done with that time of life. He continued to date the other woman, and they were together for two years.

Doesn't it kind of sound like The Bachelor? I loved this man, as deeply as a 16 year old can, and still he chose someone else over me. I invested in this man. I let him in further than I had ever let anyone in before. And I was jealous for him. I thought I was the best, and I remember telling myself "he is missing out. I am better than her". But I quickly learned that is the worst attitude to have. One should not be so full of himself. Later, after we were done with the relationship, I got to know his new girlfriend. She is a peach, and I adored her. She was so good for him, I think, much better than I was. In the small time that we were acquaintences, I learned about her from both my ex and what she told me. And she is seriously a very beautiful person, one that I was blessed to know for a period of my life. It was then that I started to do some serious soul searching. This woman that I once despised, for no fault of her own, was wonderful and kind. She took an interest in me, and I in her. I wished that she could have been a friend of mine, for I think she would have been loyal and supportive. I told myself, and had others tell me, that I was so much better for him than she was. But I really don't think that I was. She seemed so much more beautiful and perfect for him than I. And I still think that.

The prince who charmed me

I read some books, prayed, and sought the counsel of wise and objective friends. My whole outlook changed on the entire situation, and I think that it was because of my dilligence that I never made the same break-up mistakes again. Yes, I went on to kiss a lot of frogs, but when it didn't work out I left with little resentment and poise.

The new season of The Bachelor has started, and already, in the first episode, when these women have absolutely no clue who he is, let alone who the other women are, and the girls who have been ousted have said "he is missing out. I am better than half those girls in there." No! There is a reason that you weren't chosen to go on. You are released to find the man that is meant for you, and he is released to find his princess. It is a blessing. I pray that one day they will know that, like I do.

It took me a while to find my prince, and when I did I was glad that the frogs let me go so that I could find him.

-SP

Suspicious Activity

My husband and I had a great dinner tonight with a couple people from our new church. They are also quite new to the community, so they extended an offer to us to sit and meet with them. I was quite taken aback by this. Our last church was decently good at community in the time that I went there. The young adults ministry was especially welcoming and wonderful. But it's a strange concept to me, to be asked by another couple in the church for dinner. I didn't really know what to do with myself.

A completely unrelated, but cute pic of a penguin!

I am a suspicious person. A very suspicious person. I usually expect the worst and wonder about ulterior motives when people who don't know me well or at all ask myself or my husband out for things like coffee and dinner. And my tendency to suspect and wonder about people is not limited to the afore mentioned situations. I am like that with most things. I am a critical thinker with little grace at times. I don't know why I am like this, exactly, but I am. I am especially suspicious of people within the church that ask for our time in a more intimate setting. I was asked to meet with a woman at our church in Edmonton, and she asked some very personal questions. I felt cornered and since then I guess I kind of expect that everyone will be like that, that everyone wants to insert themselves inappropriately into my life and the life of my family. 


My husband is the opposite. He gives people the benefit of the doubt nearly all the time. He sees the good in people, the righteous in people, and wants to become more connected in the community. We sometimes miss each other when it comes to things like this. I have been trained to be suspicious, in both my upbringing and some ill experiences in a community that I once loved to be part of. I am working at being different, something other than the product of my negative life experiences, and each day am seeing small victories. But it is easy to revert back to old habits, and become and unwelcoming, cold person that people steer clear of. And for what? My own, unconfirmed, completely ridiculous insecurities. 


So we went tonight. And I tried desperately to think differently, to be open and inviting. And my husband was right; they genuinely wanted to know us and who we are and have us know them. And they are a beautiful couple, one that I already look up to and admire and want to be like. We talked at length about situations in their life when they have had to fully trust in God for provision and peace. And the stories that they told are seriously amazing and have helped me to have a renewed love and passion for Jesus. It was awesome to get a glimpse into their lives. To the human mind, they don't have much. You might even say that they aren't smart, or are unsuccessful. But I know different. We spent a few hours with them tonight, and God's love and mercy is so evident in their testimony, and in how they live and parent. It was such a privilege to get to sit with them and listen to their stories.


And they were interested in our lives, and how we are, and who we are. They asked how they can pray for us, and support us. They stressed that they want to build relationships. We want all those things too! It was a very great experience for me.


I am learning; learning to let go of my insecurities and trust that God has what is best for me in mind when He provides opportunities to build relationships with others. And it will come, slowly. I may need to relearn it lots. But as I let my guard down and allow my heart to shine through my sometimes hardened exterior, He will move and He will provide a safe place for it to fall. 


-SP

Stephanie, The Girly-Girl

I have been a total girl lately. I know, that's a weird thing for me to say considering that I am, in fact, a girl. But I was always the guy's girl;  my favourite pass times were drinking beer, watching sports, playing outside, and hanging out with my guy friends/brothers while doing and talking about guy things. Now, I still love beer and sports and playing outside, but I have become a much more feminine version of myself in the past year or so. 

I think for this to make any sense, I need to start from the beginning which is a long time ago. I grew up with four amazing brothers who are the light of my life. They are so fun and different from each other and we have so many amazing memories. Most of my favourite memories are with them (although, not to leave out my little sister, who is equally as amazing). The oldest of the bunch and I would do absolutely everything together when we were younger. Instead of barbies, I played Hot Wheels, and instead of makeup I wore dirt proudly on my body when we rough housed on the playground. We were best friends. 

My other brothers quickly joined the pack and we were inseparable. As we got older, we all became great friends and allies. We moved from playgrounds to bikes, and biked all weekend and every evening. During our long winters, we would snow suit up (for all you HIMYM fans) every night, whether homework was done or not, and make tracks in the snow that we could toboggan around. I was friends with my brother's friends, and the additional friends that I made were almost all male, because that's what I was used to. 

I only knew how to be around boys. I was the friend that usually had a crush on at least one of my guy friends, but we were just friends nonetheless. Then I moved out when I was 16. I moved because my father abused me and I couldn't take it anymore, and when I left I had this incredible void in me, this hunger for healthy male attention. Really, I always hungered after that, which is why I always had a crush on someone. I wanted so badly to be loved and accepted for who I was, and not taken advantage of and abused by someone in a trust position in my life. But as the song goes, I was looking for love in all the wrong places.

I dated this guy in high school who cared for me deeply, but I never completely trusted him. I was afraid of being criticized by him or his family so much so that I didn't even feel comfortable eating at his house in case I was doing it wrong. I felt like I had to prove myself to him, just like I was always trying to prove myself to the man I once called dad. I would lie to him, lies that he has no clue I told, because I thought that I had to for him to be interested in me, and I craved his attention more than anything else in the world. I thought that I loved him and he temporarily, although incompletely, filled the aching hole in my heart. 

Then we broke up. The end of the relationship consumed me. I was 16, almost 17, and the only consistency that I had in my life since I moved away from home was gone. I was at a loss and had no idea how to handle these adult emotions since I was still just a child. I would go to school each day, depressed, telling and retelling my friends stories and conversations and imaginary scenarios that I had prepared myself for (thanks, Bee and C, for always listening). My life was quite literally a soap opera. You could base a cheesy television show on those few years years of my life and probably have a few good seasons worth of material. Every conversation, every thought, every song I wrote, everything in my life was a cry for that mediocre at best love to return. 

I eventually got over him, but as I tried to leave him behind I continued to seek my worth in men. I went to grad with a guy that broke my heart the day after. I dated a guy shortly after high school who was exciting and interesting, but we were together a little over a month. By this time, I was 18 and really into the bar scene, so each weekend I was on the hunt for Mr. Right and only ever found Mr. Not-Ready-To-Commit, Mr. I-Have-A-Girlfriend, or Mr. I-Only-Want-To-Sleep-With-You. I felt hopeless.

In the meantime, the walls that barricaded my heart only became thicker and taller. I tried to be more relatable, more of a guy's girl again. I was tough, and tough to get to know. I was independent and head strong and wrote off men almost altogether. Shortly after I was 18, I started counselling. If you have been keeping up with my blog, I have raved about the process  before on more than one occasion. It was hard, the hardest thing I might ever have to do, but worth it. Jesus showed me how much He loves me, and came in and completely filled that void in me, wrapping me up in His perfect love and mercy. And then I met a man.

My husband is the most patient person that I know. If you were to ask, he would tell you that I was difficult. I didn't make him feel needed because I could always do everything myself. I didn't want to change for him or anyone. I hated ever having to rely on someone else. But he stuck it out, and stayed with me and supported me as I began to realize what my female heart needs. I am not a man. I am not wired up to be tough. My heart leads me, and always has led me, but I refused it any air time. I wouldn't cry, I would lash out in anger, I was impossible. But as my heart changed slowly with each counselling session, each dark and dirty secret revealed, I learned who I really was.

Yes, I am strong and independent, and I like beer, sports, and playing outside, but I am a woman, created to yearn for the love and acceptance of a man. And I can rest in that now. God has blessed me beyond measure with the husband he has given me. For the first time I am truly comfortable in the role that I was made for. And I think that there is evidence of that even in the small things in my life.

Girly lipstick

For my birthday, I asked for a makeup pallet that I really wanted. My husband got it for me, and now I often try out one or two looks a day just because I want to look my absolute best for my man. I was never like that before. I didn't care so much about how I looked or presented myself, and now like a girly-girl, I put in effort. I love doing that for him. And I love letting him take care of me. When I cry, he is there. When I am hurt he listens, and when I am hurt by him, he takes responsibility. He arrived at the perfect time, and as my heart softened he was always there to take up the slack. 

That's just one small example, and maybe it doesn't really say or mean a whole lot to you. But truly, I have changed. Everything is so different now. I love just being able to be a girl; a beautiful, comfortable, emotional, heart led girl.

-SP

The Ex Factor

Phil and Sebastian's coffee! Best latte in the city!

Is it possible to be friends with an ex? This is something that I have wrestled with over the years with one person in particular. At the place I am at today, I think it's possible to be acquaintances who pop in and out of each other's lives once in a while, but I wouldn't want to be 'friends'.

I dated a guy in high school. For those readers who knew me then, you know what a mess that was, especially after we broke up. Us parting ways lead to very dramatic, roller coaster life in my final year of school before graduating. I felt like I was in a movie; my life was unpredictable and over romanticized. It was ridiculous.

We broke up and eventually grew up. I realized that he was never 'the one' and after a long time we were able to maintain some contact without feeling the need to try again. I guess I can really only speak for myself in all of this. I don't know him well enough to know for sure that he has moved forward and has realized all these same things for me.

I met my husband, we started seeing each other and very quickly we both knew that we would be together forever. My ex and I would still go out for coffee once in a while, or catch each other online and chat for a few minutes. I had a full-disclosure policy with my husband, meaning that every single conversation, intentional or spur of the moment, was communicated at length and in full detail to my husband. I never wanted him to ever feel like I was hiding something from him, especially when it came to an old flame. I always gave my husband the option to say "no, Steph, I'm not comfortable with you going for coffee/sending a message to him," and have always been ready to cut off ties should my husband ever decide he would like me to. My husband is my absolute first priority. No relationship, especially one with my ex, is worth fighting for if it makes my husband feel dishonoured or uncomfortable.

I got married, and my ex and I continued to drift apart. It was quite a natural decline in the relationship. We talked once in a while, but never frequently. My husband never forbade me from seeing him, even though he neither likes nor trusts my ex. We went out for coffee one last time before my husband and I moved to Calgary, and it was so awkward. I sat there and asked about my exes life, his job, his family, and the women in his life, and I got nothing in return. He asked me briefly about my music career, but that was about it. He didn't ask about how life is, he pried into a relationship with a friend that I needed to cut off and didn't want to talk about, but what got me the most upset is that he never once asked about my husband. He didn't care to ask about the love of my life, the man that makes me most happy. He may not even remember that, but I remember it so clearly. I went home, told my husband how awkward and frustrating that last hang out was, and no longer made time for him. Not that he was a large priority in the first place, but I determined that if that was how the relationship would be, if I was the only one that would sit there and ask questions and be interested and invest my time intentionally, then it was not worth it. We didn't talk for a long time.

I messaged my ex recently, with the permission of my husband, and told him that I am curious about how he is, and apologized for a couple things that I never apologized for. I told him that I care about his life, and he basically said "actions speak louder than words, and when you have a million things on the go and no time for an old friend, I don't feel like you care". That seems utterly ridiculous to me. For him to expect that I would make him a higher priority, and spend more time pursuing a friendship with him is completely unrealistic.

Is there a scenario when exes can be friends? Maybe. But as long as mine doesn't have the respect of the man I respect the most, then no. Can we touch in and out of each other's live, say hello once in a while? Absolutely. But I am not willing to give any more than that.

Below is a video that I found today. It's a relationship in pictures. I just love the last line.

http://vimeo.com/4131811

Isn't it funny that you can know someone inside out, and then suddenly, they just become an image, a bullet-point, a blip.

-SP