We accept the love we think we deserve

There's a popular saying that goes, "We accept the love we think we deserve."

For a long time, I wondered about the kind of love I was accepting. I wondered if my standards were too high and so I lowered them and settled, over and over again, for 'good enough'. I often tell people I've dated and met enough guys to know all the different types there are out there. I used to wonder if there was 'someone better' out there, something I was missing out on by choosing to settle with the best guy I could find who wanted me. Time and time again, it never worked out.

There was a season in my life that I used to wonder if it was just people like me - the soulful, free spirits who need space to dream and wander and explore and discover new adventures - that struggled with the thought of meeting the right one and finally 'settling down'. Those two words never quite sat well with me.

The idea of committing to someone who would become my best friend, who knew me inside and out, who brought out the best version of me, was certainly appealing - the old fashioned, old school kind of love where a guy would take risks just to impress the girl and win her heart, and where she would enchant and captivate him by her beauty and grace. The part of it that did not appeal to me, however, was giving up my own interests and dreams.

During that season, I used to think that the only way for me to truly be happy was to not be tied down - to hold close the people I connected with, but without being exclusive. Giving them their space to be them - and having my space to be me. Yet there was always the part of me that craved the knowledge that out of all the other people in the world, we chose to be faithful to each other.

My main struggle was how difficult it was to be completely myself and completely honest with the other person in committed relationships I'd been in. Once you start caring too much about another person, you start thinking you own them. You try to control their actions and choices. And oftentimes, you end up suffocating the other person.

It's different with strangers. With strangers, you can be completely honest and transparent - there's no withholding who you are because you are afraid of hurting the other person. Find the right time and place (late at night in a quiet location usually works well), and it's not difficult at all to pour out your entire life story and deepest darkest secrets to a mysterious, enchanting stranger over coffee or drinks. But try telling someone you've known for some time the things you struggle with the most, and it's not always as easy to open up. How will they react? Will they see you differently? Will they be angry at you for not telling them earlier? Will they try to give you unwanted advice? Will they want to be around you any less? There is so much more at stake.

Maybe you can't be lovers in a committed relationship, I thought. Maybe in committed relationships, the love is a pragmatic type of love based on companionship and mutual acceptance and understanding. The passionate, romantic kind of love is reserved for relationships that exist purely for the purpose of enjoying each other without the messiness of tying each other down with commitment. In my experience, relationships I'd been in had either been sparks and no commitment, or commitment and no sparks, neither of which suited my taste.

This month marks the 15th month since I started dating Alex. In my books, that's a record. One year and a quarter is five different seasons that have come and gone. In those seasons, I've changed and grown and had my perspectives turned inside out so completely that I feel sometimes like I'm a different person altogether. One of the things that past fifteen months have taught me is that it's worth choosing not to 'settle', but to keep hoping and holding out for the best.

Two years ago, I wrote a blog post about things I look for in an ideal partner. Some people told me my standards were too high and unrealistic, that I should look at myself first before asking for these things in a partner, some even questioning whether I worth all of the things I was looking for and asking me what if I found a guy who was all those things but who didn't think I was all that awesome. In fact, I got more flak than positive feedback from writing that post (you can read the comments by following the link above if you're curious). But I'm glad I wrote it, and I have absolutely no regrets or apologies, because exactly the right person who needed to read that post did read it, and thought that maybe he would have a stab at being that ideal person...

...and fifteen months into the relationship, I still have absolutely no regrets. I had my doubts, plenty of them. I questioned the lack of 'sparks' and why the relationship felt so platonic. But those 'spark-less' months revealed to me the enormous amounts of effort that both of us were willing to put into making the relationship work simply because of the amount of respect we had for each other as individuals. It surprised me, the number of times either one of us could have easily walked away, but we didn't. Because it's not every day you find someone who stands for the same values as you do.

And those months also taught me that while sometimes, 'sparks' fly at first acquaintance, other times, the flames take time to simmer beneath the surface before flickering to life. And I've learnt that I've found someone who can handle me at my worst, craziest moments, who can deal with the most ridiculous things I say, who accepts my need for long periods of alone time, my innate dislike for PDA, my inability to keep time accurately, how anal I am about grammar and using words that say what they mean, the experiences and memories I've had from all my previous relationships, and the occasional crushes I have on other people from time to time.

It's nice to have commitment in a relationship - the knowing there's someone you can always count on to have meals with if everyone else is busy, the usual 'Good morning' text, the predictable familiarity of someone you've become completely comfortable with. But it's also nice to have the spontaneity and freshness of constantly discovering new things about the other person in every new season life brings - and revealing new parts of who I am as I grow and change. It's nice to be able to be completely transparent and not be judged - to be able to say "There's this thing I really don't like when you do", or "I think you're really amazing but there's this guy I think is really amazing too. Not that I would ever want anyone else but sometimes you get mini crushes on people and find a new person really fascinating, you know what I mean?", or "This book absolutely changed my life. Would you want to read it too?" In all of the previous scenarios, it's been all too familiar to have the other person completely misunderstand, get angry, feel threatened or insecure, or worse, simply not even care.

But it takes someone special to see all those conversations as keys to discovering who I really am, stripped of all pretense and fronts, completely honest and vulnerable. And that's what being in a relationship is really about in the first place, isn't it? Knowing your heart is held in safe hands and being able to let down your guard. And knowing that you are able to do the same for the other person as well.

Looking back now, I'm glad I never settled. It's been a winding, curvy, bumpy road with plenty of detours and u-turns made along the way, but in the end, I've gotten everything I've ever wanted - and more. Despite what others have said and despite my own doubts, I've learnt that I've got a big-hearted, loving and generous Father up there who knows all my heart's desires and who gives abundantly above all I could ask. I am truly grateful.

Rebirth

"Awareness born of love is the only force that can bring healing and renewal. Out of our love for another person, we become more willing to let our old identities wither and fall away, and enter a dark night of the soul, so that we may stand naked once more in the presence of the great mystery that lies at the core of our being. This is how love ripens us -- by warming us from within, inspiring us to break out of our shell, and lighting our way through the dark passage to new birth.”
― John Welwood

you keep dancing

"...though we can't undo what has been done, we can choose to begin again. to stand in the sun and let the shadows fall behind us. to throw off our shame, fear and anger. to see our beauty and our brokenness." // Freeway

"When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It's to enjoy each step along the way." // Wayne Dyer

"What is the point of doing XtraMile and everyone out there thinking you're suchhh a hero when you couldn't even care about this relationship?!?" I screamed. And even as those hurtful, sarcasm-drenched words came out of my mouth, I felt a pang in my chest because those words sounded exactly like words that my parents have said to me before. Words that I swore never to repeat to anyone else.

"You are involved in so many activities, you serve in church, you're a leader and everyone thinks you are soooo angelic, and you can't even clean up your room or listen to your parents?!?" Ouch.

I remember that feeling well - the pain of disappointing the people closest to you, of giving your best but somehow, your best intentions get lost in translation and is completely lost on those nearest and dearest to you. No amount of encouragement and compliments from the rest of the world makes a difference when you feel like those closest to you don't even believe in you. And here I was, making someone else feel that exact same way.

If you're like me, you're a people-pleaser. You genuinely live to put a smile on someone else's face. And you want to be a world-changer. You will pour your heart and soul into a cause if you believe it will change things. But sometimes, in the midst of all the people-pleasing and world-changing, we end up hurting the ones we love the most. Somehow, when life accelerates to top speed, we tend to neglect the simple things. Like saying "Good morning". Like hugs and kisses. Like dinner together.

So often, we assume that those dear to us should just "know" the amount of things of our plate and understand that our priorities need to be "slightly" readjusted "temporarily". But perspective is always subjective, and it's easier to see things from just one point of view. We assume because they know us so well, they will be more understanding and forgiving. But often, when conflict erupts, we find out along the way that even those closest to us don't understand or know how much we are struggling to cope.

It takes one sarcastic remark that spilled over from a stressful day at work to trigger a full-blown three hour argument. But equally, it takes one small "I'm really tired - I need your help with this" to help the other person understand what you're going through. It's those small remarks that make all the difference between a relationship growing stronger or falling apart when life hurls incredible pressure your way.

Yet knowing those things doesn't make it any easier to take the high ground. Knowing that an honest answer is better than a sarcastic one doesn't stifle that human impulse to just want to vent my frustration somewhere, anywhere, and most often it ends up directed towards those closest person around.

Life happens. Arguments happen. So how do we deal with it? One of my colleagues shared this perspective, after going through a tough season with her daughter: "I tell myself that people act their worst, with those they feel the safest with. That's because they know that no matter how bad things get, you won't walk away from them."

And it's true. So often, we react to conflict defensively, because we feel like we're being targeted. But very often, the conflict arises when one side is desperately trying to reach out for help, but is being misread. Conflict happens because two parties care. Otherwise, it would be easier to walk away.

There have been many times I've felt like running away from relationships. Like giving up on trying to build bridges and communicating because sometimes it feels like the other party is not putting in as much effort as I am. But I'm learning that relationships - whether at work, with family, or with my partner - cannot be about counting and comparing. Nobody wins that way. Rather, a relationship is a balancing act, a dance. Both parties take turns supporting each other, accommodating each other, forgiving each other. One of the pastors in the church I go to said, "When you work with people, toes are bound to get stepped on. But when that happens, you can complain, or you can dance with it."

And I'm learning that sometimes, you choose not to walk away, not because you don't ever get hurt. You stay because somehow, in the midst of all the hurt, you've found a safe place. You've found someone who may not always agree with you, but who cares deeply. You've found someone who may not always meet your expectations, but whom you can trust.

So what do I do after a three-hour long argument that stretches into the wee hours of the morning, right after the adrenaline and exhaustion of a hectic XtraMile weekend, knowing that a few hours later, I have to be back in the office, planning for two more upcoming huge events that are just a couple days away? I shed a few frustrated tears, let out a sigh, take a deep breath, say sorry, wash my face, go to bed... and just start all over again. For as long as you can keep finding that safe place, somehow, you can can keep trying again. With the relationships that really matter, you always find a way to start again, and you keep dancing. 

Being a leader is tough. It's tough when people are looking at you to set the pace, set the tone, set the expectations, and know all the answers, when half the time, you yourself are clueless. It's tough when you invest in people, and they give back less than their best.

But it's also so, so rewarding when you see people whom you have poured yourself into mentoring and grooming - start to blossom, and start to even overtake you in skill and ability. Now that - that is SO worth all the pains of being a leader.

On change and new discoveries

One of the things I am learning as I grow up is that changing your mind about something is not the same as selling out or being untrue to yourself or abandoning your values. It's accepting that as a young person, your experiences are limited, and therefore your perspectives about things are limited as well. And it's okay to look back at realise that the way you look at certain things has changed.

As a child, I used to think to myself, "When I become a parent, I wouldn't do this, this and this", or "If I were a wife, I wouldn't say this, this and this". I wondered why adults didn't have things figured out. I was idealistic and naive. I thought to myself, "It's so simple - if it were me, I'd do it this way." I used to be so sure of what I wanted - and what I wanted was to be different from everyone else, because I was sure I had things figured out.

And the more I grow up, the more I'm learning to graciously accept the wisdom of those around me. I no longer see that as "giving in" or "bowing" to the opinions of others - I'm learning to accept that I don't always know everything, and I'm not always right. I used to look at all my parents' flaws and tell myself I never wanted to be like them - but these days, I see more and more things that I admire about them - values I want to cultivate in my own life and pass on to my children too.

I used to tell myself I could never see myself in the corporate world, that boardrooms and bulleted PowerPoint slides were too limiting for a free spirit like me. But I'm glad I changed my mind and I now find much fulfilment in what I do. And people ask me, "But how can you just give up who you used to be?". I don't think it's so much giving up who I used to be, but discovering more of who I am. That I am not a one-dimensional being. Yes, I am artistic, creative, and non-conformist, but at the same time, I also enjoy putting order into things and finding patterns and process flows in the midst of chaos. It's not a contradiction - it's an extension of who I am.

I used to find folding laundry and hanging clothes a painful chore. I'm glad I stuck at it long enough to get to a place where I now find the fresh smell of just-washed clothes therapeutic and calming.

So often, I hear people saying, "I can't do this, because I'm this type of person", or "Oh, that's so not me", or "That's not my kind of thing" - and I want to say to them, don't limit yourself! Don't limit your experiences.

I love telling these stories of how I used to be an introvert, how I used to hate meeting new people and how conversations with strangers were always painfully awkward, because every single time the disbelief in their eyes cracks me up. "You?!? But you seem like such a sociable person!" Well, it sure didn't happen overnight. And it wouldn't have happened if I decided, "Well, that's just not me so I'm not going to make an effort to try."

So don't be so quick to say you can't. Don't be so quick to say no to things. Don't be so quick to give up on things that seem to be going nowhere. Give things time. Give people time. Give yourself time. And learn to accept that even if you lived to be a hundred, you'll keep discovering new things about yourself. Yes, it will take courage. It's always scary to venture out into the unfamiliar, untested unknown. But I think we are far more equipped and capable to take on challenges than many of us realise.

And life is really so much more enriching when it's filled with challenges and new discoveries along the way. :)

"Change your opinions, keep to your principles; change your leaves, keep intact your roots." // Victor Hugo 

"I have accepted fear as part of life – specifically the fear of change…I have gone ahead despite the pounding in the heart that says: turn back." // Erica Jong