Zen-troversion

ZenMom

The ZenHusband and I take turns picking up the 5-year-old Minion from kindergarten. The other day, we were comparing notes and an interesting fact came up:

He has had several complete conversations with many of the other kindergarten parents waiting to pick up their kids.

I've never said so much as a word to any one of them.

That pretty much sums up one of the biggest differences between me and my husband:

He is an extrovert - a bonhomie for whom it is easy and natural to strike up a conversation with darn-near anyone.

And I am the introvert - I'm borderline anti-social when it comes to meeting new people. "Socializing" does not come naturally to me; and most social gatherings are just varying degrees of uncomfortable for me.

So much so that strangers and casual acquaintances have described me as unfriendly and even snobby. I don't think that's accurate. I like to think I'm actually quite a nice person, when you get to know me. :)

But I understand why I come off that way - I don't make it at all easy for people to know me.

Let me clarify here: I'm not shy. I'm introverted - two different things. "Shy" describes someone who avoids social interaction because of nervousness. Shy people want to interact, but they are anxious about it. Introverts are not nervous about social interaction - they just don't enjoy it.

In other words: A shy person is lonely. An introvert is just alone.

For me, there are some exceptions: With friends and close family, I can be very friendly and talkative - it can sometimes be hard to shut me up! At work, I'm never slow to speak up - in fact, formal and informal communication with all kinds of people is a key element of my job. A job that I happen to be pretty good at.

And yet, I'm the last person in the world who would strike up a casual conversation with a stranger. In fact, I'm more likely to be the person striding purposefully, headphones in my ears, avoiding eye contact with passersby.

Random chit-chat with strangers? Casual communication without purpose?

Meh. I'll pass.

I just don't have the inclination for "small talk" - it doesn't interest me. It feels forced and uncomfortable. It drains me. I'd really rather not do it.

That's where the (mis?)perception that I'm a snob comes from, I know. But it's true: If I'm not really motivated to get to know you for some reason, I'm not going to waste my time and energy - or yours - with idle conversation.

And then there's the internet ...

Where I bare my thoughts and ideas and opinions on a regular basis; where I engage perfect strangers in blog comments; where I strike up up random conversations on Twitter; where I trade jokes with Facebook friends.

For an anti-social person, I'm curiously entrenched in social media.

If you only "know" me online, I'd be curious to hear what your perception of my "socialness" is. Because I find it a lot more enjoyable to "talk" to people online than I do in person.

And I'm not sure why that is.

Why is it relatively easily for me to communicate with people online and yet I find personal engagement so uncomfortable? How can I have developed such strong bonds though a computer (and, yes, a few of my online friends have become very good IRL friends, too) ... and yet feel so completely removed from people I see every week - like the parents at my son's school?

Yeah, yeah, I know: It's not an unusual phenomenon. I gather there are many people like me - more comfortable conversing through a computer than face-to-face. There's probably even a name (and maybe even a pill, considering the state of things today) for it.

But, hey, this is my blog, I can naval-gaze if I want to. ;)

Whatever it is, I don't see it changing anytime soon. It seems like the older I get the less inclined I am to stretch outside my comfort zone and make the effort - and yes, for me it takes a great deal of effort - to "socialize" with new people.

And, you know, I'm really okay with that. As much as I love my darling, extroverted husband, I'm just not interested in sliding over to meet him on the extroversion-introversion scale - I'm not broken. I don't need fixing. 

Yes, I'm probably missing out on some interesting people in real life because of my (anti-)social quirks. But I'm pretty happy where I am - even if it is mostly in my own head.

So, I'll leave the socializing to The ZenHusband and he can leave the blogging to me. Maybe eventually he can introduce me to the other kindergarten moms.


What about you? Are you more introverted or extroverted? Is it easier for you to talk to people online then in person? Or am I just a weirdo? :)

Werewolf? There wolf. (My scary halloween story. Ooooooo.)

My first warning should have been when my date told me our evening was going to be a "surprise". In my experience, surprising me rarely ends well for all parties involved.

But, I was young - 19 or 20, I think - and he was a fun and romantic guy intent on creatively wooing me. So, I thought to myself, "Hey, self, try being spontaneous for once! It'll be fun, right? Right!

- dundundun-

My only hint of what was to come before he picked me up that chilly October evening was when he told me to wear comfortable clothes and walking shoes.

Still, when he proceeded to take us far out of town into the sparsely populated countryside, I have to admit my inner monologue was starting to sound something like this:

Ummm. Okay. This isn't scary or anything. I'm sure he's totally NOT a serial killer taking me to a secluded spot to chop me into tiny pieces. But, just in case I'm wrong, let's just examine the handle on this car door in the event that I may need to jump out and run for my life.

So, I have to admit I was just a little relieved when we turned a corner and came upon a big lighted parking lot out there in the middle of nowhere.

Of course, that relief turned to dread again when I realized we were at a "Haunted Forest".

Now, here's something you need to know about your Auntie Zen, children: I don't do scary.

I've never worn a scary Halloween costume, I don't watch horror movies; I only rarely read scary books (and then it's only during daylight hours and I usually follow it with a Disney movie chaser to get the ick out); I'd rather roast s'mores than listen to a spooky campfire story; and I've been known to totally freak myself out a la the Blair Witch Project over unidentified noises and shadows in the dark. (By the way, the person who forced me to watch the Blair Witch Project - I'm still not speaking to him.) For heaven's sake, I slept with a night light until I was ... oh, wait, I still sleep with a night light!

And I most definitely DO NOT do Haunted Houses.

So, yeah, you get the idea ... having scary things jump out at me in close quarters is pretty high on my things-I-never-want-to-do list.

My enthusiasm was for this "surprise" date was flagging just a bit at this point.

But, hey, I'm a trooper. I can do this! It will be fun! Right? Right!

I was pondering whether or not I might have preferred the "So I Dated an Axe Murderer" scenario when said date grabbed me by the hand and enthusiastically led me right past the kiddie games and the hay ride and the corn maze and straight to the "Haunted Forest".

Oh. Hell.

Okay. Pull it together, you. Look at the little kids going in there in front of you! If they can do it, you can do it.

Just about then, the screams started drifting out of the thicket of trees.

"Um, so, are you sure you don't want to go do the bean bag toss or bob for apples or ... " I started.

"Oh, don't be scared," my date was the picture of manly support. "I'll be right there with the you the whole time."

More screams. And now, growling noises.

Ohmigawd-ohmigawd-ohmigawd. Self, we do NOT want to go in there, right? Right!

"Or we could go make out!" I said, desperate now.

That almost did it. He paused, but then laughed and handed our tickets to the nice witch at the entrance. "Don't worry, it's just good fun."

Famous last words.

Okay, self, suck it up. You can do this. Oh, and self, you should maybe not squeeze your date's hand so hard. I think his fingers are turning blue. And try not to think about the dark branches that seem to be reaching out to grab you... or the dark, tight space closing in on you ... or that rustling noise in the bushes ahead ... or that sound like heavy breathing near your ear.

I was pressed up against my date so tightly at this point that you couldn't see light between us - even if there had been light to see. Which there wasn't. Because it was freakin' dark in there. Did I mention I don't like the dark?

Okay, breathe, you can do this. Right? ... Right? Um ...

I honestly could not tell you a single thing about the first 1/3 of that haunted forest, except to say that it scared the bejeebus out of me. I've blocked out all the traumatic details.

But I do know that I was damn-near hyperventilating by the time the werewolf jumped us.

We were coming around a corner when the werewolf leaped out of the bush right next to me - meaty arms raised, sharp claws reaching, pointy canines bared, a deep throaty growl on his bloodthirsty lips ...

Yeah, it was exactly like that.

What the hell do you think I did? I shrieked like a little girl and jumped about two feet backwards - tripping over an exposed tree root in the process and landing on my ass - but not before I heard an ominous *snap* from the general direction of my ankle.

My date honestly did not believe me at first when I told him I was pretty sure I'd broken my ankle.

But, he jerry-rigged a (pretty decent!) field splint and helped the EMTs carry me basket style out of the thick trees. Then he followed the (probably unnecessary) ambulance to the nearest emergency room. And he sat with me in the exam room and entertained and distracted me while the (definitely necessary) pain meds kicked in.

Ahhh, drugs are good. Everything will be okay, now right? Right.

I still think he only really believed my ankle was actually broken when the doctor showed us the x-rays. But he was still very chivalrous and attentive during the whole evening.

Especially when the werewolf showed up again.

Yep, the young man who played the werewolf at the Haunted Forest actually stopped by the emergency room when he got off of work to check on me. Wasn't that sweet?

I gave him a hug. Of course, I was all hopped up on those really good pain meds by then, so I'm pretty sure I was hugging nurses, doctors, x-ray techs, and anybody else who said a kind word to me at that point.

I think my date was just a teensy bit jealous when the werewolf - who was kinda cute without his mask - gave me his phone number and asked me to call him to let him know that I was okay. (Please note me NOT making the obvious dogs-fighting-over-a-bone joke here. You're welcome.)

For their part, the Haunted Forest folks sent me a bright orange t-shirt that said "I survived the [redacted] Haunted Forest". (Later, I corrected it by adding "barely" with a Sharpie.) They also sent me some free passes to come back.

Riiiiight.

Believe it or not ... this is not the weirdest date I've ever been on. Or even the only date to end in medical treatment.

Even more amazing? There was a third date with Haunted Forest guy.

But that's another story ...

###

How about you? Have a good haunted house (or forest or whatever) story? Well then gather 'round our virtual campfire and do tell ...

His, hers and ours

In the before-time, the ZenHusband and I used to do lots of fun things together: Backpacking, hiking, camping, SCUBA, music festivals, movies, video games, sporting events, museums ...

But, since the kids came along, we don't have a lot of "us" time. We do a lot of things together as a whole family - and that's great. But, we don't really do many "fun" things together just as a couple any more.

Instead, we trade off - he has time to go do some of "his" things and I have some free time to do some of "my" things.

His favorite hobbies are homebrewing, fishing, hiking, alternative music, video games, disc golf ... throw in a little football and hockey (watching) and the occasional war movie or History Channel documentary and the ZenHusband is a pretty happy camper.

Me? I'm usually happiest when I'm reading, writing, playing with techy stuff, or taking photographs.

I used to think that it was great that we each had our own interests. And, I guess I still do. But, I kind of miss doing non-parent things together, too.

Sometimes it starts to seem like whenever we are together, all we do or talk about is how to juggle work and kids' schedules, or what's for dinner, or did you feed the cat, or can you fix the kitchen drawer, or the car needs washing, or can you pick up milk on the way home ...

Every now and then, I feel like if we didn't have all of that "family business" minutia, we might just sit and stare at each other and wonder what to talk about; I start to wonder if we have anything in common anymore besides our kids.

And then ...

... then we somehow manage to find a few hours - or even a whole day or two - of "us" time ...

And, suddenly, we remember that, while we are separate people with different interests, we are also a loving couple with more than 10 years of shared history and a lot more in common than just those fabulous, adorable rugrats who call us parents.

Last weekend, we had a rare two whole days to ourselves. We went out of town to do something "fun". But, more importantly, we had a lot of time to just hang out and talk. Did we talk about the kids? Yeah, a little. But we also talked about books and beer and music and movies and culture and current events.

And we talked about the fact that we want to make sure that we don't forget that, no matter how all-encompassing parenting can (and should) be in our lives, we still need to make time to do the "fun" things that we enjoy doing together - just for us - too.

We don't quite know how we are going to do it, but we agree it's important to us to try.

What about you?

Do you and your significant other have shared interests or hobbies? Do you do "fun" things together (without your kids)? Or do you each do your own "grown up" things? Is "couple time" a priority for you? How do you find the time and what kinds of things do you do?

I'm really curious about how other couples approach these things. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Tomorrow, DaddyGeekBoy will be here at Venus vs Mars with his thoughts on the subject of marriage and shared interests. Don't miss it!

Sometimes, I wonder

Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to run into him somewhere.
A chance encounter at the store, on the street, in a coffee shop.

Would we greet each other warmly, sitting down to chat like old friends about our new lives? Or would we offer smiles that don't reach our eyes and exchange uncomfortable small talk before going our separate ways?

Would we share pictures of our spouses and kids? Or would we just share a private, nostalgic look as we pass?

Would I see the passionate young man, in the middle-aged stranger in front of me? Would he see the care-free girl in the mother of two?

Would his smile still make my stomach do flips? Would he flirt and bring up old times?

Would my cheeks burn at the flood of memories? Would his eyes sparkle at my blush? Would mine brim with tears when the moment was past?

I love my husband, my children, my life.
I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world.

But, sometimes, I wonder.

It's not rocket science

It seems like several of my friends - male and female - have complained to me recently about the quality or quantity of their sex lives.

When they do, I always ask the same question: "Have you talked to your partner about that?"

And I'm constantly surprised at how often the answer is, "No".

Newsflash: Sex is not rocket science. If you are in a long-term relationship and having "bad" sex: You are probably at least 50 percent to blame.

No, seriously. Own it, dude.

Because I'm a helper and a giver, I'm going to share a little (not-so) secret with you. So gather round and listen very carefully boys and girls, because this is the truest truism about sex that has ever been written:

Communication is almost always the key to better sex.

What? Don't give me that look! I told you it wasn't rocket science. It's bloody freaking simple: Communicate. Cooperate. Enjoy.

I know. Duh, right?

But, still, so many people don't do it!

I know that I have a tendency to be pretty blunt and up-front - yeah, it's maybe not my most endearing trait. But, I just prefer to come right out and say what I think in most situations and on most subjects.

And that includes OMG s-e-x. I'm pretty open on the subject - within certain social limits, of course. I mean, I don't run around bringing up the subject with strangers (Heh, unless this post counts?) or my boss or my grandmother or anything like that.

But with my friends - and certainly with my husband! - there's very little that is off-limits.

If I don't want to talk about a subject: I'll tell you. But if I do want to talk about it, I'm going to just talk about it straight. I'm not going to - if you'll excuse the expression - beat around the bush.

So, I have a really hard time understanding my friends - and, yes, it's mostly (but not entirely) women - who will talk to ME about their sex life, but NOT to their significant other.

Seriously? You're doing it with him, but you can't talk to him about it?! What's that about?

So, these women (and men, too) are unsatisfied or unhappy or bored with their sex lives, and their SOs are either totally clueless, or, worse, they know something's not right, but not exactly what or how to "fix" it.

Geez, people. Do you expect your partner to be a mind-reader?

Despite what Playboy, porn and romance novels would have you believe - there are very few "naturals" at this sort of thing.

Guys: Girls don't really learn the tips and tricks of how to please a man at college sleepovers in between naked pillow fights. You're going to need to let her know what you like and what you don't.

Ladies: Your man studied long hours just to figure out how to get your bra off. Cut him some slack and be willing to help him out with the activities that have a higher degree of difficulty, huh?

Sex is a team sport and coaching is not only allowed - it's mandatory. And, don't forget, practice makes perfect.

Of course, not all communication is verbal. And you don't have to sit down and have an intervention to make small changes. A well-timed moan, a guiding hand, a shift of position, or other non-verbal coaching can go a long way to letting your partner know what you like or don't like. As can being more open to his or her non-verbal cues, too.

And after? Praise the good parts. You might be surprised how well a simple "Wow, Babe, I really loved it when you ... " can inspire a repeat performance.

Best case scenario: Don't wait for a "problem" to talk about sex with your partner. Even if you are perfectly happy, it's still a good idea to communicate about these things. Hey, there's always room for improvement, right?

But, if - heavens forbid - your partner is not rockin' your socks off in the bedroom (or on the floor, or in the shower, or on the kitchen counter, or in the backyard ... whatever), please for-the-love-of-Pete: TELL him or her!

Odds are good that (s)he'll want to know. And will be happy to hear what (s)he can do to make things better for you both. And, hopefully, will be eager to share his/her ideas on the subject, too. Because, trust me, you're not perfect, either.

Even if you don't know for sure what you want or need, that's fine. Talk about that and explore new ideas together.

Yeah, okay: You probably do need to be a little less blunt and a little more ... diplomatic ... than I have a tendency to be. So as not to damage any egos. But, I can almost guarantee that just talking about it will help kick up the heat all by itself for most couples.

Thus endeth the sermon.

But, hey, that's just my opinion on the subject. Ladies? Gentlemen? Any dissenting opinions or supporting evidence on the subject?

Flirt!

Do you flirt?

I think you should.

In fact, I think flirting can be good for your marriage (or other long-term relationship). No, seriously.

My favorite person to flirt with is my husband, of course. And I most definitely advocate flirting with your spouse every chance you get!

But, I also see the fun and benefits of a bit of innocent flirting with other people, as well.

Now, let me say, right up front, that there IS a line where "innocent" flirting becomes something else. And that's bad. I can't tell you where that line is - it's going to be a little different for every couple. But, I think, deep down, you know where it is, anyway.

But, for me, personally, giving myself permission to flirt again has improved my marriage and our love life.

The fabulous ZenHusband tells me and shows me all the time that I am beautiful and sexy and desired - and that is a WONDERFUL thing. But, at the same time, I know that he is my husband and, really, it's kind of his job to say and do that - to love me even when I'm not at my most attractive.

But, when someone else flirts with you, well that can be just that little bit of external validation you need to boost your confidence - and your libido.

After my sons were born, I was feeling just about as un-sexy as you can feel. I don't care how "easy" a pregnancy was, getting used to your post-partum body is not easy for anybody. Throw in a breastfeeding baby, a growing toddler, perpetual lack of sleep, and re-balancing hormones and you've got an anti-libido cocktail with a fatigue chaser that can pretty much kill even the best sex life.

But, then a funny thing happened when I went back to work after Minion 2 was born: My work brought me into occasional contact with a very handsome man who consistently flirted with me. Nothing overt or inappropriate: Just a little extended eye contact here, an extra smile there, a casual touch, a compliment, some light banter ... and that little bit of attention and attraction - from someone who was not my husband - was just the ego boost I needed to start feeling like an attractive woman again - and not just somebody's mom.

I used to flirt when I was single. But, after I got married ... if a man started flirting with me, I would feel a uncomfortable or guilty - like I must be doing something wrong to acknowledge or encourage it because OMG-I'm-married!

But, somewhere along the way, I've realized married does not equal dead ... and that flirting does not equal infidelity.

Now, when a man flirts with me, I take it as a compliment. It makes me feel attractive and appreciated. And when I flirt back, I feel confident and invigorated.

Ladies: Do you ever put on that perfect pair of jeans or wear those sexy shoes or have that great hair day, and you just walk around feeling like a million bucks all day? I think flirting is like that. It makes you feel good about yourself.

And when that bit of innocent flirting is over - I take those feelings of confidence and attractiveness home with me. To my husband. Who is also very appreciative of the resultant energy and enthusiasm.

The very important caveat is, of course, that you have to be sensitive to your partner's feelings. You have to make sure your level of flirting is within your partner's comfort zone - if your flirting is pushing buttons of jealousy or insecurity - time to stop or dial back!

And, you have to be comfortable with the quid pro quo - don't think that you get a free pass to flash some cleavage to the UPS guy and then turn around and scold your partner for winking at your local barista.

But ... if you are both secure and comfortable - go ahead and flirt a little! You might find that it's good for both of you!

But, hey, that's just my opinion. What do you think?

How I Met Your Father

Isn't it funny how you always seem to find what you need just when you're not looking for it?

I'd sworn off men. Hadn't been on a date in almost a year - hadn't been physically intimate with anyone for 2 years. I was coming off of a series of "bad" relationships and I was not interested in starting a new one.

But, the universe, it seems had other ideas.

It was St. Patrick's Day. I hadn't planned on going to that local bar and grill that night. Turns out, he hadn't either. But we both ended up there anyway.

I was with my roommate. After getting a couple of girly umbrella drinks at the bar (and getting hit on by a couple of nice-but-no-thank-you guys), we took our drinks out to the patio to enjoy the unseasonably warm evening and to avoid the more meat-market feel of the bar area.

We were chatting and laughing when I heard this deep, rumbling voice behind me ask if I he could join us. So, I turned in my chair and saw ...

... a lumberjack.

Seriously. That was my first impression: This tall, broad-chested, dark-haired, red-cheeked, brown-eyed, long-lashed, baritone with a red plaid shirt, blue jeans and a friendly smile - He looked like he belonged on a package of Brawny towels.

I said yes.

For the record, my Darling Husband tells me his first impression of me was "Nice Rack."

Awww. Innit-he-sweet?

So, he and his friend (who, a few years later would serve as our Best Man) did join our table and we had a nice chat about work, beer, pets, family, our town, and so on.

That first impression stuck for a while. My roommate would tell me "your sexy lumberjack called" or ask if I was going out with "Mr. Brawny" again. Which, of course, I did.

Our first date was coffee; the second was a B.B. King Concert. Thereafter followed by the usual ... movies ... a candlelight homemade dinner (Don't worry: He cooked, not me!) ... a day hike in Yosemite ... dinner with his family ... Easter brunch with my family.

Still a bit gun-shy, I was taking things one day at a time. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I kept expecting it all to end.

But it didn't. And, before I knew it, I was agreeing to be Mrs. Lumberjack.

It's been 12 years since the night we met. And we are still working on our happily ever after one day at a time.

###

How did you meet your significant other? Did you "know" he/she was the one?

In Neatness and Clutter

I'm a planner, an organizer, a worrier.

My Husband is spontaneous, chilled out, laid back.

Casual acquaintances sometimes wonder aloud why we haven't killed each other yet. I usually tell them that we only put up with each other for the great sex. ;)

But the people who really know us can easily see that the truth is actually much simpler.

###

I'd like to blame my kids for my OCD tendencies.

After they were born, I had a a bad case of "Mommy Brain" - I lost or forgot things so often that I joked that the baby must have been sucking my brains out with his breakfast. I left my keys in the front door, locked them in my car, even locked them inside the house - with me on the outside. I lost count of how many times I lost my sunglasses and other accessories. Or forgot to put gas in the car. Or remembered to go to the bank but forgot the checks to deposit. Or put the milk in the pantry. I even forgot some appointments - which I never do.

I used to be able to recall exact quotes and complex figures from memory when I was a reporter. Now I can't remember that I need to buy toilet paper unless I've got a shopping list stuck to my purse. Some days, just after Minion #2 was born, I swear it was a miracle if I remembered to put all my clothes on before I left the house.

This is what you have reduced me to, my darling children.

But, honestly, I can't blame the kids for all of it. I've always had a tendency toward obsessive-compulsive organization. It's one of the things that makes me very good at my job ... and, I suspect, somewhat difficult to live with at times.

But after the kids came along, I got better and worse.

I've learned a great deal of patience from my children. I've learned to let go of a lot of control issues. And I've learned a lot about how to not sweat the petty things. (And to not pet the sweaty things, but that's a whole different kind of lesson.)

But I've also learned that when you have two kids under 5 - organization can not only make your life easier, it can save your sanity.

My husband, on the other hand ... well, if I'm: "A place for everything and everything in it's place", then he's: "Oh, I think I set it down around here somewhere."

I regularly come home to find power tools on the dining table, his shoes in the doorway, his lunch ice chest in the middle of the kitchen floor. And you don't even want to get me started on the piling system on his desk.

In his defense, it's not that he's a slob - he does laundry and dishes and vacuums and is actually pretty darn good at helping to keep things clean around here.

It's just that he doesn't at all mind the presence of my arch-enemy: Clutter. (Dun-dun-dun!)

He can walk right by some random item in the middle of the hallway floor for weeks and never even think about picking it up - unless it happens to be something he needs at that moment. Because it just doesn't bother him.

Meanwhile, I'm developing a nervous tic waiting to see how long he ignores it. (Because, apparently, I'm a masochist like that.)

Of course, when I do "commit a cleaning" as he calls it, then he notices. Because he can't find the cordless drill battery he knows he left sitting on the microwave a couple weeks ago.

o_O

And yet, somehow, we've haven't killed each other.

It probably helps that we each knew what we were getting into before we shacked up. In fact, I had one "condition" for agreeing to marry him: I had to be in charge of the "the books". I don't mean in charge of spending decisions; we make those together - I mean in charge of the actual bookkeeping: Paying the bills, balancing the accounts, etc. Because, pre-marriage, my husband's idea of balancing his checkbook was keeping it all "in his head" with an occasional call to the phone-teller to check his balance.

I know. I was horrified, too.

But, the thing is: He was perfectly happy with his "system" before I came along. But - and this is the real key to our "success" in this area, I think - he's also perfectly happy with "my" way.

Because that "it's-all-good" personality that gives the ZenHusband his chill attitude about clutter is the same trait that lets him put up with my obsessive-compulsive control-freakiness.

On the other hand, it's my uber-organized control-freakiness that keeps the lights on around here. ;)

So, yeah:

I'm a planner, an organizer, a worrier.

My husband is spontaneous, chilled out, laid back.

He's the Oscar to my Felix, the Ernie to my Bert, the Yin to my Yang.

But, while we might look like incompatible opposites from a distance, the truth is that we're actually complementary - each supplying something the other would otherwise lack.

Yes, we sometimes clash. But, overall, I think we balance each other pretty well. Maybe even make each other better. :)

Do you and you significant others have issues like these?

Scars

ZenMom is kinda new to me but I have fallen in love with her writing. She is a Mom of two boys and as she says, "madly in love with my husband". I'm excited for her fresh look on her life and her relationships!!! Click here to learn more about ZenMom... and Welcome!

I have a fabulous marriage. But, like everybody else, I had "failed" relationships before I made the right match.

Except they weren't "failures". Not at all.

They all ended, yes. And some ended badly. But that doesn't mean they were failures. And it doesn't mean they were wastes of time. Just the opposite, in fact. If it were not for those early relationships, I would not be who I am or where I am today.

I learned a lot about life and love and ME from those "failures".

Some of those lessons were beautiful - little whispers of happy wisdom laid gently into my psyche. And some tore my heart open, leaving scar tissue that changed my whole perception of life and love.

But I'm thankful for both kinds.

I'm thankful for the high school crush who was my first experience with that heart-racing rush of infatuation. He left me breathless and taught me that boys that age are fun, but irresponsible. And that girls that age are over-dramatic. And that love is not really about breathlessness and drama.

I'm so thankful for my first "real" love, who was - before, during and after our brief romance - a true friend. He taught me that love should be playful and tender. And that, when romantic loves ends, it is possible for it to evolve into something even better.

I'm thankful for the college lover who taught me so much about passion ... including the painful lesson that passion alone is not enough to sustain a relationship.

I'm thankful for the ones who showed me my own boundaries - the places I would and would not go for love.

I'm thankful for my platonic men friends. They taught me that not every relationship with the opposite sex has to be about sex or romance. I especially appreciate the few men friends I have with whom I can joke and flirt and be myself without worrying they might take things the wrong way.

I'm thankful for the ones who taught me that sometimes men can be sweet and charming and nice ... and still break your heart.

That's a tough lesson to learn: That not everyone who hurts you is evil. Sometimes there is no "bad guy" ... just very bad decisions.

I think I might be most thankful for the men who hurt me. Who used me. Who lied to me. Who cheated on me. Who betrayed my trust. They helped me realize some of the most valuable lessons of all.

Between them, all of these men taught me balance. The balance between protecting your heart and opening your heart to the possibilities of love. And they taught me to recognize what love IS and what love ISN'T.

And those lessons paid off for me: I am now married to the love of my life and I couldn't be happier.

I could have walked away from these "failed" relationships learning nothing ... or learning the wrong things. I could have become jaded. I could have fostered hatred in my heart. I could have given in to despair or anger. I could look back with regret.

But I chose - and continue to choose - to see the good. To be thankful.

Even for the scars.

What about you? Do have lessons learned from past loves?