Boiled Eggs are a Bitch. A Love Story.

Wrestlin’

I haven’t been hanging out in the Substack Notes space much lately, but

Nur Nadar

always seems to find a way into my feed when I do drop in. It seemed clear from Nur’s recent trail of Notes that he may have been wrestling a bit with whatever article he was working on. Then he published, and I read his post, Embracing the Chaotic Unknown.

In the article, he reflects, “Recently, anytime I start dating someone, I seem to rush to the part where I just abruptly end it with them. Is it because I really know what I want in a partner, so I can spot what I don’t want immediately?”

Nur Nadar

goes on to discuss his theory on what is really at play here in his life, and suspects it has something to do with fear.

As I read through the article I thought, Ehhhh yep, I would’ve been wrestling with that one too. You see, that was the story of my life for a decade.

Embracing the Chaotic Unknown

A Shining Beacon of Health

The irony was, at the beginning of that decade I had plunged into a ton of self-work. Therapy, reading, learning 12-step methodology. I had surrounded myself with positive friends who were as interested in growth as I was.

I considered myself emotionally healthy, present, and self-aware. I was driven. I was growing in my career. People in my personal life often came to me for advice. They shared their admiration about my insightful reflections (and dare I say, even, wisdom??)

So then, what was the deal with dating?

Well clearly, the dating pool was… not great. I once wrote a poem titled Ode to Internet Dating. It started, ‘PainSlut, PainSlut, where art thou?’ in tribute to one man’s dating app screen name that made a particularly lasting impression on me.

The options, (or lack thereof) were a key component of the problem.

I had also been through a lot by this point in my life, and I was wiser for it. I had learned all about healthy boundaries, and I didn’t hesitate to use them and get out early if I smelled anything even remotely fishy with a potential partner. I wasn’t planning to repeat any old mistakes, and I was determined not to get myself trapped into anything that wasn’t good for me.

I Earned It, Right?

Plus, I became a mother when I was very young, remember? I had made it through the hard things, and it felt only right to try to live-a-little. Maybe make up for some lost time, and do whatever it was that people who weren’t raising kids in their 20s did during those years.

But somewhere along the line, the plan to just enjoy the process and even be a bit of a free spirit about dating veered a little off course. Being a free bird is cool until you try to go back to your nest and you can’t even remember which direction to fly.

Making an effort to take my time, explore my options, and not rush into a full fledged relationship seemed like an important and responsible guiding principle for dating. I’m not quite sure where exactly that turned into - Oh wait, you say you’re looking for commitment? No thanks. That’s not really my jam.

This represents the emotional depth of my dating life during the majority of those 10 years. Photo by Deon Black on Unsplash

Over the years, I watched the changes in my friends who were also out and about dating. Most found partners, some even got married. But wasn’t there a good explanation for that, too? After all, they weren’t parenting a toddler during their college years. They didn’t spend their years of youthful beauty hidden away in PTA meetings. I had already lived the family life. I’d done all the things. I was living my life a little backwards, that was all.

But, I’m a smart gal. Occasionally I did wonder if I might be pulling the wool over my own eyes, even if just a smidge.

And then, before I knew it - it all became a big messy stew. I couldn’t tell the difference between healthy boundaries and fear of commitment. I wasn’t sure what the endpoint of ‘keeping my options open’ was supposed to look like, or if there even was an endpoint?

It was all so jumbled up in my mind. I guess there had been a place where I was supposed to get off the Free-Fun-Cause-You-Earned-It Highway, but clearly I had missed the exit.

A Stubborn Egg

Then, Kevin.

I didn’t even meet him on a dating app. I was visiting the property I’d purchased in Michigan and I didn’t know anyone in the town. Hell, I didn’t know anyone in the state. I wanted to go skiing so that seemed like a good opportunity to meet some people and I posted in a local ski forum and tossed out an offer to meetup if anyone else was looking for a ski buddy.

Long story short, Kevin and I met up and hit it off.

We didn’t have much in common, honestly. Our lives were completely different. We were completely different. But something felt right, so we just went with it. There was something that was both refreshing and unnerving about Kevin though.

He didn’t have any of that ‘player’ vibe that so many of the guys I dated had, or at least pretended to have. And the way he looked at me (and through me), it was as if he’d just somehow skipped the entire chapter in the book that was supposed to explain to him that I don’t do that kind of intimacy.

Now I don’t want to give the wrong impression. Kevin wasn’t a prince in shining armor who came and swept me off my feet. He had is own challenges and his own demons to wrestle. He was definitely human. But even when he was at his worst, there was some kind of magic that seemed to follow him around.

I don’t even know what it was, but it started rubbing off on me. And when that happened, then other things started happening. And I didn’t like it.

At my urging, we broke up.

Somehow, he pulled me back in though. We got back together. Sadly, this became a cycle. I’d push, he’d pull. I’d say no I don’t want it, he’d say ok well I’m not going anywhere so let me know when you change your mind.

This was not a particularly healthy cycle. It is not one I’d recommend to my children, or my friends. But there were a lot of layers to what was going on. It was almost more like a determined trainer trying to break a wild horse than dating. He just wouldn’t give up. And neither would I.

But see, this is where that magic that was always near him really did its work. I can’t even really tell you exactly what or when or how, but I do know that at some point I wandered in, as if out of a long haze, and thought to myself - Hm, ten years really is a long time.

And for what felt like the first time, I began to earnestly consider if perhaps I’d played a bigger role in this than I’d allowed myself to realize?

The “reasons” had always seemed so convincing. So well supported by data. But something seemed to be unraveling? The evidence didn’t seem nearly as rock solid as it used to. Things just weren’t quite adding up anymore.

It was like an uninvited and unexpected breaking… something was cracking open.

Photo by Laura Goodsell on Unsplash

But there was no overnight epiphany. I clearly wasn’t some nice fresh egg from the henhouse. One little crack wasn’t enough to open me up and pour out my soft gooey insides.

I was more like a hard boiled egg. Removing the shell was going to be a b*tch. The only way forward was to pick off one tiny, wet, sticky shell shard at a time.

Fear Is Not the End of the Story

Isn’t it remarkable how we can change and gain insight in so many areas of our lives, yet some critically important piece of the puzzle manages to stay hidden from the light and warmth of healing and growth?

Like

Nur Nadar

, fear has been a main character in this part of my story. But I’ve never been so thankful for a cracked egg.

I don’t even mind that I’m still messy and picking off all the little remaining pieces of shell. What matters is that now I’m wide open, and each day brings more healing, clarity, and hope.

It is soothing to turn the pages of the calendar again, and again, and again since Kevin and I met on that snowy day in Michigan. But I’m still scared. I still buck like a wild-woman sometimes. (Don’t tell him I told you, but I think he gets pretty scared sometimes too.)

I still feel so nervous about telling people, because what if something happens? What if it doesn’t work out?

What if we wrestle in that arena one day, and god forbid, what if one of us wins?

What if we don’t walk out of that fence dirty and dusty and tired, but holding each other as tight as we possibly can like we have managed to do every other single time?

I guess that’s life, though, right? There are no promises.

With love, there is risk. But for today, and for tomorrow, I gladly choose love.

With a side of eggs.

~Rose 🌹

If you’d like to read more about my story, like where all that dang fear came from or how I became a young mother - you may enjoy these.