Vol. 2, Post #64 Amaaaaazing!

How a therapy session shed light on my "new" dating behavior. My sex tips for girls* (*girls who are holding on to mid-life by a thread). A dating odyssey for Young Olds, (people with readers).

As discussed over the last few weeks, Dear Readers, I’m starting to date.

This fledgling round of potential coupling up feels very, very different than previous ones, and I was eager to discuss the “how come?” with my therapist, in that I was feeling no pressure to make any moves, to sniff around online, or to answer a few flirty DMs in my social media, surprising even myself.

My therapist, known among my inner circle as “The Schnay,” since that’s a syllable in her name (and it’s fun to say Schnay), has been working with me for about a decade now. My intro to her came in a sort of roundabout manner, but one that has seemingly paid off in our work (assuming you agree that I am reasonably well-adjusted). After a recent session, I realized that I’m uncovering something pivotal about my own dating behavior that I’ve never thought about before. Maybe you’ll relate to it as well?

The Schnay was my couples therapist at the tail end of my marriage to my now ex-wife. Finding a couples therapist for me and my ex- was challenging, as my ex- worked in the mental health field and was very private about who knew what details regarding the state of our marriage. My ex- also insisted that she wanted us to work with someone who had zero ties to her larger work community. So after some diligent research, she found The Schnay and into her office we went.

Our relationship with The Schnay as a couples therapist was short-lived. My ex- and I were not working out; we did not see eye-to-eye on plenty of issues towards the end of our marriage and my ex- was also pretty easily triggered into anger which manifested itself in a lot of screaming and stomping around when she felt unheard. It wasn’t scary to me, but I also said it HAD to stop if I was staying in the relationship (and I only bring this up since it will figure into how I started working with The Schnay on my own).

Something happened in a session with The Schnay early on that caused my ex- to start yelling, first at me and then at The Schnay, before she stormed out of the session. I sat there, blinking my eyes, sort of embarrassed, but not really, because, honestly? I was GLAD that my ex- threw a fit in the session. Now The Schnay could see what I was dealing with at home.

Being a good therapist, The Schnay asked if she could speak to my ex- one-on-one about what happened, ahead of us both coming back in. I said yes, but for me, I realized that we were officially on the downward slope of this relationship and indeed, we split up a few months later. In fact, I think I told my ex- that I was finished with the marriage during a session with The Schnay.

After the split, I called The Schnay and asked her to refer me to a therapist who I could see on my own, as I wanted to further explore the near decade of challenges I experienced in this relationship, along with my emotional responses to those challenges. The Schnay gave me the names of a few therapists whom she thought would be a match for me.

Sidebar — I’m not sure if you’re a “therapy person,” but I am! I had not done any real therapy until I was in my late 30s but once I started, I liked it. I liked, of course, the focus on me — ha, LET’S TALK ABOUT ME! — in a therapeutic setting, and I am always curious about how my extremely fucked up childhood occasionally pokes my adult life in the ribs; I was always someone who acknowledges that my parents were basically “operating heavy machinery whilst on codeine cough syrup” when it came to Mommy and Daddy stuff, but I don’t think I really had an inkling of how insanely bad their behavior was until I started to unpack it in therapy — I just thought they were neurotic and I was very strong in the face of it. If only! So since I had touched upon some of this with The Schnay as I navigated life with my ex-, I was eager to continue turning over rocks.

Double sidebar — I know a wonderful therapist who asks her patients what they’d like her to do if she sees them in public, like in the grocery store or similar. I found this to be a great question. The Schnay never asked me anything like that but if I saw her in public, I’d give her a warm hello, and probably introduce her to anyone I was with, because, let’s face it, I am not terribly boundaried about personal info like “And this is my therapist…” and likewise, I’m PROUD of the work I’ve done in therapy. Those days of skulking around and whispering “my analyst” while people clucked their tongues are so over!

Annie Ross was a British-American singer and actress, best known as a member of the influential jazz vocal trio Lambert, Hendricks & Ross. She helped pioneer the vocalese style of jazz singing, with a style described by critic Dave Gelly as "a kind of dreamy watchfulness that is a definition of 1950s hip.” Here she is on Hugh Hefner’s show!

Anyhoo. After recommending some potential therapists to me, The Schnay called me a few weeks later to see if I liked any of them, and I told her the truth: that they seemed “fine.” And then she told me that while she was primarily a couples- and family therapist, she would consider working with me on individual therapy since, as she put it, she had seen the dynamic between me and my ex- and knew the areas that I needed to explore. I told her, “You’re on.” And we’ve been working together ever since.

There have been years that I have ditched therapy all together, when we’ve both thought it was a good time to take a break, but in general, when I get curious about something in my life, I dive back in. I get a lot out of it and for the better part of the last year or so, I’ve been seeing The Schnay twice a month. Which brings me to what I’ve learned this spring, that most certainly informs the way I am thinking about dating right now. Here goes…

With the exception of my ex-husband and one or two lovers besides him, I have gravitated towards partners who needed a lot of hand holding. A. Lot. And yes, I’ve written about this here before but it bears repeating. When you go into a relationship ready to happily do the work of two people (i.e., conquer all the ins and outs that naturally come up, unasked), not only is the power dynamic immediately off, but, it’s actually “unfair” — think about it. When you deny your partner the opportunity to carry his or her weight in the relationship, because, “don’t worry, I’ve got this,” you’re not only infantilizing your partner but oftentimes, you’re taking on the brunt of the work to show how “easy going” you are. “Oh, you and your ex can’t figure out summer break for your kids when they’re not at overnight camp? Allow me!” At least, that’s what I realized I had been doing in some of the most pivotal partnerships I’ve had over this last decade. Something was a challenge for My Person? Abbe Does It! (My website is in dire need of updates, and my client list is utterly out of date and missing a ton of the wonderful people with whom I work, much like the story about the orthodontist whose kids have terrible teeth, but what can ya do? My logo, by the incredible Jason O’Malley, is still one of my favorite things ever. And see that magic wand in my hand? Precisely what I’m talking about. My tagline is even “Abbe-cadabra…and it’s done!”)

Looking back, I saw this pattern of overdoing rear its head again and again. When I was newly involved with F., for example, and we were moony-eyed, texting and longing for each other, we had started a shared playlist and one morning, I woke up and put about 50 songs on the playlist. His response? Not delight. He was actually a little bit sullen that I had done such a deep dive on this, implying that I took some of the wind out of his sails since I had gone, well, overboard in adding endless songs that we could listen to when we were naked together. I think I shrugged it off, but in replaying this, his reaction was more or less correct. We were making this playlist together and I had kind of bogarted it, so it became less fun for him.

^^^ Artist Duke Riley “scrimshaws” garbage and obsolete relics like cassette tapes — I was thinking about his work as I wrote about my quasi mix tape debacle above. I have one tattoo left in me and I am DYING for him to do it (on his wait list, Le Sigh…)

Re. taking something and running with it to the nth degree? I’ve done this before, I realized. “Helped” or “taken care” of so much that the other person had literally nothing to do. Been “soooooo amazing” that there was no room for the other person to also be amazing towards me. Ouch.

So how does that speak to my thoughts on dating afresh today? Well, Dear Readers, I like someone. OH MY GOD. I SOUND LIKE I’M 14 YEARS OLD.

OK, fine, I don’t care. I have a crush. And my crush has some stuff going on in his life, beyond normal Young Olds stuff. I know this because we have a mutual friend in common who has shared details. So, like you and me, my crush has a complicated so-called middle-aged life, and doesn’t have all day to just daydream about my creamy thighs.

They’re not 14 in “My So-Called Life,” right? Except everyone in this scene — EVERYONE — has a crush on someone else in the scene. And let’s face it, when Jordan Catalano crosses the hallway to talk to Angela, you just want to faint. Or at least, I did. I missed MSCL when it first aired, but when I was pregnant with AW, it was in reruns on The WB and I was OBSESSED. There was no talking when Jordan was on the screen. NO TALKING. I think I shushed my now ex-husband several times. Oh Abbe.

Now, the “old Abbe” would most likely reach out to my crush, to ask him how he’s doing with his stuff, offer an ear (for such a big talker, I am an excellent listener), bake him a banana bread or even offer to cook him dinner as some solace for what’s happening in his life. And you know what? I can do any and all of that — when and if my crush reaches out to me first, and asks me to get together.

First. Him to me. First. Not me to him.

This ^^^ notion (I’ll wait for him to reach out to me) would’ve previously had me rolling my eyes, because it seems distinctly un-feminist and besides, I’ve never hesitated when I’ve wanted something. Rather, I’ve gone after it. Full throttle. Be it a job or a lover or a hobby or a piece of art. If I want it, I want it now!

NOT like that ^^^. I’m not obnoxious about it. But I am passionate about it. And when I’ve had a crush in the past, when I think the feeling is potentially mutual? Well, why wait? Ask and you shall receive.

Except that’s not my MO anymore. I want someone to come towards me. Even more important: I want to leave someone the spaciousness to come towards me and make the first move.

What’s become apparent as I endeavor to work on myself in therapy with The Schnay, and in my own personal alone time (journaling, meditation, silent reflection whilst in nature — take your pick) is that all of these years of “high performing” to get the attention of parents or other people who were emotionally absent? Well, it resulted in me taking care of my needs entirely and likewise, me being A-OK in running the show. Making ALL of the decisions. Leading by example. Having it all figured out.

I definitely DO NOT have it all figured out. I’ve finally accepted that as a good thing, not a fault.

And a person who does not have it all figured out, who does not have it planned to a tee? That person might still be amazing but that person can also give other people the permission (and the gift) of stepping forward at their own pace, in their own time, to show how amazing they too can be.

In learning more about the things I need and want to reconsider in myself, via therapy, that have to do with a warped childhood which forced me to grow up far too quickly and “handle” things for other people, I’m realizing that it’s far more sexy for my crush to shine his light, to come to me. If he does, I’m so ready. If he doesn’t, it’s not a call for me to wrangle him out of his world and beckon him in to mine. Because — and this is important — rarely has a lover or partner not accepted my invitation to dance when I ask. But now I want to be asked myself.

And this…ease? In many ways, it’s foreign to me, as a take-charge woman who is a “doer” through and through. Learning a new trick at age 57? Amazing indeed!

Wow, I feel so much lighter and breezier even in just writing this.

Here’s me looking like an Afghan Hound, but you get it. Toss your hair around with me, Dear Readers. Feels amaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazing!