Sunny Sings The Blues: Perspectives Reframed: Dating Again

Chris and me at a Scottish restaurant in New York City.
We weren't vegetarians yet and just had our minds blown by haggis.

During our first few correspondences, Chris did not have his photo available for viewing online. Regardless, we clicked right away, and soon it became clear that he was different compared with other's I'd been involved with before. He brought out a side of me that was more comfortable. Mind you, "comfortable" is generally not a term I use to describe myself very often. But Chris was (and still is) very easy to talk to about everything that I went through with Roman. Also being a talented musician who once taught Latin, he was educated, articulate, and funny. With those qualities, I was willing to wait a little while on his photo. Truthfully though, I was really dying to see what he looked like.

In retrospect I was still very vulnerable, though I did not admit it to myself at the time. I think it was a shift in my priorities, along with some intangible guidance from above that protected me from potential emotional annihilation. Potential negatives like a bruising rejection or a tangled rebound could have been crippling, though I reasoned that nobody new could hurt me half as badly as Roman had. So even though I was aware of the emotional tightrope I walked by dating quickly after his death, it was my sense of protection that empowered me to focus and keep moving forward steadily.

With my change in priorities, I considered the qualities of new people only to the degree that they affected me. I knew that the guy I ended up with did not have to be perfect, he just needed to be right for me. Never again would I invest my energy into a relationship with someone who did not bring out the best in me, or vice versa. It was a logical way of thinking that also required a great deal of trust in my intuition to make the right choices. But even so soon after his death, I had already learned a lot about my past mistakes.

Roman's lack of communication and ongoing platitudes made me feel quietly neurotic. Since his behavior on the surface was as it should have been however, I was often vexed over my own reactions. Roman went through all of the motions perfectly. He courted me when we dated. He called, pursued me, put a ring on my finger, and constantly told me what I wanted to hear. In return I was good to him; yet he still cheated. But at the end of the day, his actions were not a reflection of me or my worth. Now I get that.

Communicating his thoughts without turning things into a joke, a debate, or simply stopping cold was difficult for Roman. My attempts to address it only made him more standoffish. And because of differences in how we communicated, Roman probably needed someone less attuned, while I in turn needed someone more emotionally available. Looking back, it's really no wonder he hit it off with Erica. She validated the side of his character that I disliked. To her, the same traits that I considered weaknesses, she considered attractive. Her angle complimented him better than mine. But Roman didn't necessarily do it for me either. It wasn't until after he died, that I realized why.

Working on forgiveness showed me that our incompatibility was not personal; we simply were not right for one another at the onset. We never really brought out the best in each other and should never have gotten married to begin with. Roman and I both felt trapped at times. Trying to see various perspectives helped me better understand myself and Roman in order to heal some of my lingering heartbreak.

Old lady or young?

I was, and still am a caring, conscientious, and intuitive person. However, when that side of my personality is not validated, it could be viewed in other, less complimentary ways. Depending on the other person's viewpoint, those same traits could seem intense and neurotic. When I care, I can be very focused. That attention can feel warm and fuzzy to some or uncomfortable and piercing to others.

Both views are probably correct depending on the point of view being taken. It's like the famous Gestalt picture of the old lady and young lady... They both exist. Though I am hardly alone. Most human traits could be viewed as strengths or weaknesses, simply by the light that is cast upon them. Perception is subjective. Attractiveness is simply dependent on the lens of the person doing the viewing.

So as I started meeting new people in the days after Roman died, I kept perspective in mind and also shifted my thinking about myself. Instead of feeling bad about my quirks, I reframed them into strengths in my mind and looked for a person who would also view them accordingly.

With that, the instant a new guy said something that rang of poor communication or of subtle criticism like Roman's frequent words, "ahhhh Sunny, you worry too much.." I politely moved on...

...Next!

I trusted my instincts, opting to invest only in a relationship where both of our characteristics would be complimented positively by the other person. And as it turned out, Chris fit the bill. Luckily too, I liked what I saw when I finally saw his picture.

I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't terrified over pursuing a relationship with him. But I'm ~~stubborn~~ resilient, and have consciously refused to stop growing or be defined by loss. However, I also know that denying my prior ordeal is no more beneficial than perseverating on it. Like it or not, my scars are still there. Thankfully, my relationship with Chris over the past few years has helped me accept my experience as a whole. My grief is the same, I'm just more comfortable with it today because perspective has to helped transform my loss into something useful.