Facebook Killed my Love Life

I was driving to Dallas when I got a Facebook message from a guy I knew a long time ago.  I was driving through his town so I popped up as a possible match for him on a dating app.  At first I didn't remember much about him, so I asked my parents if they remembered him.  The tone in the car immediately changed to excitement.  It was affirmative.  He was a great catch and would be a great match for me.  We spent the next week texting and video chatting.  I was beaming.  My mom said she had never seen me so happy.  He was a successful, handsome man who loved Jesus.  Surely this was it.  Surely I had just found the love of my life.  And surely because of the random way we reconnected, this was no coincidence...surely God was in it.

I deleted numbers from my phone, I removed myself from the dating app, I turned down invitations to go out.  I was totally smitten.

I'm not a girl who is quick to commit.  I have been asked to stop seeing other people many times before, and my answer was always the same...I'm not ready.  The truth was, I just didn't like them enough to commit.

So this complete disinterest in other men was a rare occurrence.  I do not get excited easily over men.  I have learned to proceed with a bit of caution and a large amount of pessimism.  Dating was just a prolonged way of figuring out I didn't like them in the first place.  So this meant something to me.  It felt different.  It was different.  I was different.

And then came my birthday.  Being the social media person who is considering different aspects of business that I am, I shared my evening with my 1,000+ friends on Facebook, excitedly showing my slice of the world that it was possible to enjoy your 40 something birthday when you're a single mom.  My friend AJ kindly took me and my boys out so they could experience bringing their momma to dinner at a nice restaurant.  I thought nothing of the pictures so up they went.

My excitement over this new relationship immediately died when I realized I was being ghosted.  I received no explanation, no questions asked.  He just vanished.

I'm used to this behavior.  It's not the first time I have been completely ignored by a potential love interest.  But this was not like other romances.  He loves Jesus.  Surely this is not how men who love Jesus respond to challenges.  Surely they have more staying power.  Surely they don't say things they don't mean.  Surely they are more respectful, kinder, more thoughtful, more understanding, more direct.....more importantly, surely they are more forgiving....

But the silence continued.  My family and friends were disappointed.  At my request, they prayed for a reconciliation.  We were completely ridiculous in our drama.  I heard the usual, "at least you found out now how he handles conflict" and "obviously he wasn't the guy we thought he was" and "God has something better for you" and "if he really likes you this won't deter him."  But none of that helped.  I was devastated.  I made a fool of myself by extending multiple apologies.  I called.  I texted.  I messaged.  I voice texted.  And I got nothing, Jesus.

As my spirits dropped lower and lower, my anxiety went higher and higher.  Since I am in this stage of changing how I handle anxiety,  the usual coping skills no longer worked.  I was having to deal with this raw emotion with bare knuckles and lots of Jesus.  And lots. and lots. and LOTS of tears.

I was with my friend yesterday when the realization that I was truly alone hit me.  Her son goes to a school 30 minutes from her house, so I volunteered to go pick him up while my boys stayed and played at her house.  I needed time alone.

Driving has always been a safe place for me.  My cars are home to me...almost more than my actual home.  It's when I'm behind the wheel that my thoughts form emotions.  There is something about me and the road and the music and the isolation from people while being surrounded by people that triggers my feelings.  It's a perfect picture of life...being an individual in a world filled with people.  True to form, the tears fell and I cried.  As beautiful Carrie Underwood says, there is no such thing as a pretty cry.  So homegirl UGLY cried.

I cried about my future.  I cried about my past.  I cried about my present.  I cried about how my stupid actions cause terrible results.  I cried about being single and alone.  I cried about my boys home-hopping.  I cried for them.  I cried about the many times my heart has been broken.  I cried because I hate Facebook.  I cried about my business.  I cried about my lack of direction.  I cried about my parents living in another state.  I cried about my siblings living in another state.  I cried because I had let someone in.  I cried because I was a fool.  I cried because I am a hot mess.  I cried because Jesus loves me despite my hot mess.  I cried for all the people in the world that can't shed a tear to save their life.  You're welcome.

By the time I picked up my friend's son, the tears were all done.  Thank goodness.  I didn't want to frighten the poor fella.  He napped while I recovered.  I came back to my friend's house a little spent but a lot lighter.  I needed that ugly cry.

Crying is one of our most vulnerable states.  We are very careful with who sees us cry, when we cry, how we cry.    Dealing with buried emotion is usually not pretty.  If we cry in front of an inappropriate someone at an inappropriate time, we are totally humiliated.  It's a deeply embarrassing event.  But tears don't have any regard for opportune moments.  They fall when they are good and ready.  They fall so you don't drown. (Thank you to Jeana & Cain, for this analogy.)

Every tear represents an emotion...a longing...an unfulfilled expectation...a disappointment....sometimes joy...and it's sometimes only through tears that we are able to sift through buried emotion.   Good or bad, tears bring us to a standoff with our hearts.

I started painting when I was in college.   I picked up a brush because my boyfriend at the time was an artist and told me I should paint my poems.  (Being the angst-ridden twenty something, I wrote a lot of poetry.)  The result was a painting of a crying sky over my favorite verse at the time.

"Watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life."  Proverbs 4:23

I've neglected to do this since my divorce.  I've been careless with my heart.  I've let unworthy men trample it.  I've let unkind words prick it.  I've let alcohol numb it.  I've let malicious actions stab it.  I've given it scraps instead of sustenance.  I've forced it to live off of processed food and sugar instead of nutritious, whole foods.  It's been beating, but barely.

My 20something self who painted that amateur painting would be sorely disappointed in this 40something woman.

My ugly crying is far from over, but the tentative life that springs from this wounded heart will take another stab at living....tentatively.  With or without a seemingly great guy.  With or without my family.  With or without a successful business.  But with a lot less of the Facebook activity that killed my love life.

https://youtu.be/KUUjtUP2CrE