Food Musings: Lunch with a Friend

Since the beginning of 2016, I’ve been working with my friend Ann, sending her a photo of food every week, so that she can write a poem about it that celebrates peace and send it off to her subscribers. I generally tell her what the photo is about and if, for some reason, it holds any sort of significance for me, but it’s still her poem and her thoughts that she expresses, rightly so. I’ve decided to write a companion piece to the photos I send, musing about the way that food plays into our lives.

lunch w stef-002

Recently, I went to lunch with a friend. It was an impulse date; we’re both busy (she’s a mom and owns her own business, I’m juggling four different jobs and trying to write in the middle of it) but I happened to call and ask her if she was free on the weekend I wasn’t visiting family and it was the one weekend in the entire month she had some time. Score!

For the record, we normally have to plan these things weeks in advance.

Our lunch was a funny affair, two hours long and filled with laughter that ranged from saucy giggles to full-on belly laughs. We told stories. We shared concerns. We shared nachos. It was indulgent, both in our menu choices (yes, please, I want the fries, she got a Bloody Mary and HOLY POCKETS I think my beer goblet was crafted from the skull of my enemy) and in our focus. For two hours, we had the privilege of leaving behind our roles as mother and business owner and instructor and writer, and we got to be, simply, friends. Communing over food, telling ridiculous stories, being each other’s sounding board, honest advice-giver, and confidante. It is the best kind of friendship; in the time we spend together, we can drop our pretenses and just BE.

Thank you, friend, for being there that Sunday. And thank you, friends, for being there at all. I’m not sure what I did to deserve the friends I have in my life, but I’m so, so glad you’re in it. Here’s to our lunches, past and present and future!

Visit Ann’s prayer!

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Advice: Relationships Should Be Better Than This

Dear Bartender and Priestess,

I’ve been involved with a man, “Marc”, for six months now, and I really like him. He’s got a lot of admirable traits that most of us look for in a man. He’s gregarious, he’s honest, and he’s well-mannered and respectful. And, of course, he has baggage.

Marc was married before, but it ended poorly and he’s skittish about relationships. I get it. He’s also got this friendship with another woman that, frankly, I find confusing, and I don’t know if she’s just a friend or a romantic rival. They’ve been friends forever and I don’t mind that. But, he tells me things, particularly that she wants a relationship with him, but he’s not willing to give that to her yet. Honestly…I don’t know if I need Marc to be that honest with me. You know what I mean? He’s also told me that he loves her, and I don’t know if that means love-love, or friend-love. I’m so confused.

The other woman currently lives in another state but is considering relocating. Closer. Like, to our town. Marc says that her moving closer won’t necessarily mean he’ll want to be with her, and whenever he says that my stomach just plummets. Why is this even an option? I’ve been the girlfriend who’s been around, and caring, and am now emotionally involved. She’s just been some figure in the distance. What can I do to make him see that I’m here? Or should I try and protect my heart and walk away?

–Lost in Love

B&P: Oh my dear. No, no, don’t walk. Run away, far and fast.

B: I’m going to take issue right off the bat with this sentence: Marc was married before, but it ended poorly and he’s skittish about relationships. I get it.

No, you don’t. You don’t get it, because you’re not even listening to him. You say he’s honest, and you’re right. You just need to hear what he’s actually saying, and not what you want to hear (or decide to justify, if you don’t like your initial interpretation). He’s basically saying, over and over again, “I don’t want to commit to you.” He says it when he tells you he’s skittish. And he really says it when he says that this other woman moving closer jeopardizes the relationship you’re currently in.

Please note: by “relationship” I mean, you and Marc know each other and have some regular communication, but you also have relationships with your hairdresser, your co-workers, your mail carrier, etc, etc. The word “relationship” does not necessarily mean, you know. Relationship. Moving on.

P: And here’s the thing, when you’ve had a bad marriage and you’re skittish, if you’re a grown up, you do a couple of things: 1) you get some counseling and work through your issues, 2) you’re up front, not that you’re skittish, but that you’re unavailable. Oh, and 3) you probably don’t date someone here, while you’re planning on moving someone in from far away. So that’s him. What about you? As Terri says, and trust me the Bartender has heard ‘way too many of these conversations from intoxicated, broken-hearted people on the other side of the bar, you’re pretending that he’s interested in you. Why go out with someone who is not going to be in a relationship with you? You’re wasting valuable time or you’re using him as an excuse not to move into a grown up relationship while indulging in the drama that must ensue.

B: Now. I am not saying Marc doesn’t enjoy your companionship, and it’s possible that on some level he cares about you. But honestly, you sound like you’re a relationship fluffer as far as Marc is concerned. You’re enough to keep him aroused and entertained (on his terms), but not so much that he will take the relationship all the way.

Despite his vaunted honesty, dear, he is behaving dishonorably. What he’s doing is manipulative. Telling you that your place in his life is not secure, while “honest”, allows him to keep you at arm’s length and at the same time, keeps you walking on eggshells. Have you ever felt a moment’s peace inside this relationship? Have you ever felt secure, like you’re “home” with him? All you’ve told me and Ann about are successive instances of insecurity. NOT feeling loved. NOT feeling appreciated. At the end, you posit that you don’t even know if he knows you’re really there. WHAT. Though from him end, I wonder if he gets a real turn-on from it; he keeps knocking you down and you keep coming back, begging for more. This relationship—again, I use the term loosely—is so one-sided even you admit you’ve disappeared into it. Do you determine your sense of womanly worth by whether or not you’re with someone? I’m not being facetious or mean, it’s a yardstick people often use—men and women—to measure themselves.  You’ve already signed on to this and have agreed that this is your dynamic these last six months. Do you see it changing in a year? Can you live with this for another three years? Five? Do you still want knots in your stomach and eggshells under your feet twenty years and a few kids from now?

P: Wow, I can’t say I think there will ever be kids… It won’t be enough about him. I wish I could say I don’t have any experience with this. But I bet most women have dated some version of him, hopefully for a short time. It was funny, right before Terri received this question I’d been reading an article (help, I can’t find it) that talked about why your ex would want to remain friends with you — big answer: because he’s a narcissist. He wants all the attention. And it’s an easy parallel to draw with Marc. He’s got “marriage issues,” he’s got a girl back home, and he’s got you keeping the home fires burning. And he’s so “honest” and “meaningful” and therefore must care about you, right? I wish he did. But more truthfully, I wish that you didn’t think he did. Whatever he’s saying, let’s pay some attention to what he’s doing. (A lot, and not much of it with you.)

B: I wish I had nicer things to say about where I thought your relationship could go, but I don’t. I think you’re Marc’s Miss Right Now, but I don’t think you’re his Miss Right. Of course, I can’t make you do what you don’t want to do but I can’t see a reason for you to stay. And more to it, I can’t see a reason why you wouldn’t make an appointment with a therapist and discuss your willingness to be strung along for six months, and even fall in love with the stringer. You know this relationship isn’t right, which is why you’re writing to us. But in much the same way that I can’t make you do anything, you also can’t make Marc do anything. You can’t make him love you more, you can’t make him commit (and mean it), you can’t make him stop having contact with Miss Out-Of-Towner. The only thing you can control is your behavior. Take a good, long, hard look at what you’ve got and where you’re going. If you truly, in your soul, like it, then stay. If your stomach drops to the floor and you feel that sense of panic, then I think you have your answer. Good luck.

P: I not only want you to look at what he’s offering, I would like you to look at what you want and why you’re willing to jam yourself into a relationship that gives you no place to be a valuable person. How can you move forward in your life if you’re so willing to be stopped by someone who really doesn’t care for you? Because if he cared about you — not for how you make him feel, but for you — he’d leave the relationship because he wasn’t giving you what you deserved. Nope. He’s using you and you’re enabling it. Are you enjoying the drama? I’ll tell you, drama is not love; it’s just drama. Please give yourself better. Allow yourself to deserve someone wonderful who’s ready to be in your life. Leave so you can have it.

How much louder does he have to say it?

How much louder does he have to say it?

Dark & Stormy

  • 2 oz dark rum
  • 5 oz ginger beer
  • lime wedge

Fill a highball glass with ice. Pour rum over ice, top with ginger beer. Give a stir, and squirt with a lime wedge. Enjoy!

Got a problem? Email us at bartender priestess (at) gmail (dot) com. Human non-spambots, remove spaces, insert proper punctuation. All questions will remain confidential.

Want to know more about The Bartender and The Priestess? Go here!

Thank you for reading. Now go tell all your friends about us. {{{heart hug}}}

 

Advice: Painful Partisan Politics and Bad Manners

Dear Bartender and Priestess,

I am a second semester freshman, thinking about majoring in political science. I love trying to understand how our policies actually work. I’ve been doing projects with local campaigns and for our town commissioners since 9th grade. I’ve found that even the people whose views weren’t mine were usually good people, looking to do a great job. In fact, the woman who was my best mentor was one with whom I share very few political views, but she loves the process and the privilege of the work and was really encouraging.

I turned 18 in December and have been very excited that the first time I get to vote is in a presidential election. I’ve been working on a campaign on campus and feeling really great that there was room for a freshman.

Except it all feels like it’s gone so wrong. These are the primaries. It should be exciting that different people are supporting different candidates. Of course I don’t like all the candidates. But that doesn’t mean that everyone who thinks differently than I do is a person who is too stupid to live. Someone from the same party as mine came over and terrorized me because I am campaigning for a different candidate. He called me the worst names.

I managed to hold on to my cool but I was really hurt and could feel a whole mouthful of childishness rising up my throat.

What happened to the notion of worthy adversaries and civil discussion? I thought I’d be most upset about the fact that people don’t think it’s worth voting. Instead I’m overwhelmed by the hostility.

How do you engage in constructive ways? And how do I keep from feeling beaten up for being different than some people want me to be?

Concerned Citizen.

 

Dear Concerned.

P: You are so right to be concerned, the Bartender and I are firmly in your camp. Being a priestess and all that, I usually try, at least publically, to refrain from vulgarities. There’s this one cartoon, though, that really sums it up for me. I’m sorry I couldn’t find it to give the artist credit. Hive mind? There was a guru sitting on a hill. And people trudging up the hill. There was a kiosk bearing the sign something like: Meaning of Life —don’t have time to wait. There was a person reading a pamphlet that said simply “Don’t be an Asshole.” It is stunning to me how many people use the electoral process to discover their inner asshole. Surprisingly — to them, at least — this does not make things go either smoothly or their way. And they become bullies.

This nonsense is bullying, pure and simple. What becomes a problem is how do you stay engaged in what you love — and how do you not get beaten up? And the fact is, the only way to stay engaged with the process is by disengaging with the bullies. You have to find a way to do what my friend Michael’s mother always suggested: Rise above. There is no sense working on a beautiful swan dive if you’re headed into quicksand — and conversations with people who aren’t interested in you, or facts or common courtesy are pretty much nothing but quicksand.

B: While modern-day politics may not be quite as dire as the sentiment expressed in A Game of Thrones—when you play the game of thrones, you either win, or you die—it can often feel that way. There is a tremendous amount of personal investment that goes into politics. Particularly when you’re young, enthusiastic, and establishing yourself and your beliefs as you take on the mantle of adulthood. We choose a political affiliation because it resonates with us on some level. We believe in their fiscal approach, or their take on social justice/international policy/environmental issues/health care, and so on, and so on. There are a million different policies that can attract a person to a party, and then further on to admire one particular politician over another. All of which should provide fertile ground for lively debate, particularly if you and your politico-colleagues are informed and passionate about your favored issues.

But we seem to have lost the ability to disagree. There’s a pervasive Game of Thrones mentality that rejects legitimate conversation in favor of trying to crush your opponent under your heel. Again, it’s an easy trap to fall into when you’re young, before you’ve learned the ins and outs of tact and diplomacy. Kudos for you to figuring this out long before many people in politics ever do.

P: You may need to develop some stock response that gives them no openings and repeat until they walk away or you can get them to stop biting your ankle. Words like: “It’s so interesting that people can look at the same issues in so many ways, don’t you think. And it makes me excited that people are so involved in this election. Oh, is that the time? Class at 11. Gotta run.” And then go! Don’t wait for rebuttal.

You cannot engage someone who is not interested in fact, nuance, or reality. It just doesn’t work. Being polite doesn’t mean letting people beat you up.

B: And learn how not to get baited into an argument. You can exercise your right to not engage in something. When you were accosted for supporting the wrong candidate in your political party? You don’t have to try and convince the accost-er of your rightness. If someone’s that hostile toward you and your political choices then you’re usually at an intellectual impasse. If that’s the likely case, remember, you have the power to say things like, “I’ll be happy to talk to you about this when you’re less aggressive,” or go short and sweet and say, “I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” It’s not that there isn’t room in the political spectrum for spirited debate and mindful conversation. There’s just not room for it with that guy, at that moment. If someone were to walk up to you, knuckles up, out of nowhere, looking for a fight, would you tear your shirt off and dive into the fracas? Or would you think, this is nuts, and walk away? It’s the same thing. Learn to read a situation. Take a (mental) lap around the room before you commit to a debate.

P: I was so excited by the first part of your message. Not only are you interested in government, you’re getting great experience. And you’re allowing yourself to be mentored by people on both sides of the aisle. These are the people who matter. These are people who are doing the work and acknowledging your worth. Stay close to them. Learn what you can. Find more great examples of caring candidates. Watch them. There is nothing more exciting to me to see someone who is both idealistic and realistic about the democratic process. Go be part of it. Make the world better. It’s one way, for sure.

At an earlier point in my life I might have said some of the behavior you’re experiencing is based on people’s age and experience. But I am on Facebook, and I can’t tell you that I see loads of posts from my older, (cough cough!) wiser friends, filled with thoughtful maturity. I was so happy to see the (alas false) story about the knitting gorilla. Who cares if it’s false, here’s to knitting gorillas.

But there is something about that heady first taste of voting and freedom of opinion. You seem to recognize that it’s a responsibility as well as a privilege! Great adulting! Sadly, too many of your cohort does not. Again, don’t let them get you down.

B: I think Ann is right in that you’ve found some great people to get you started on the right foot. You need to remember the internal lesson you learned from your mentor. You and she differed politically, but were able to work well together. Why? Because you were invested in the process, and not in your ego. I mean, God, yes, it feels great to be able to express your opinions and—literally, when you’re voting—stand up and be counted. Who doesn’t like feeling like they matter? You and your mentor could still find common ground from either side of the aisle because you both understand that a political disagreement doesn’t mean you’re totally rejecting one another as people. It’s not your soul that’s attached to a political party, it’s your opinion, and those can change with time and circumstance. Don’t forget that.

P: And lastly, I am so sorry, but dealing with assholes is part of the skill set you’re going to have to develop to be an effective politician. So, yes, their behavior is intimidating, but you’ve got bigger things in view, so don’t let them intimidate you. Find your feet (we believe in you, and I’ll bet others do to) and stand your ground. And when at all possible, walk around the human quagmires. Otherwise make your landing a belly flop and breaststroke the heck away from there. Because you have something you believe in. Hold fast to that. Put a pebble in your pocket and name it that cause and grab onto it when people are being ignorant and hateful. But keep going. Because we believe in you. I’ll bet a lot of people do!

B: I just want to say, even if you’re not going into politics but plan on being an adult, you’ll still have to deal with assholes. Sad, and true. So. Learn to read a situation as it unfolds in front of you before you find yourself at their mercy, no matter into what arena you decide to throw your hat. Good luck!

political napkin

Here’s to wonkless politics! Ever forward.

Moscow Mule Mocktail
1/2 cup Ginger Beer
3 tbsp Fresh Lime Juice
3 tbsp Club Soda

Mix ingredients in a copper mug 3/4 full of crushed ice. Stir together. Garnish with lime wedge.

Got a problem? Email us at bartender priestess (at) gmail (dot) com. Human non-spambots, remove spaces, insert proper punctuation. All questions will remain confidential.

Want to know more about The Bartender and The Priestess? Go here!

Thank you for reading. Now go tell all your friends about us. {{{heart hug}}}

Travel Theme: Dazzling

This week, the theme at Where’s My Backpack? is: dazzling. So why wait? Let’s get dazzled.

The other day, my neighbor’s tree was an explosive cascade of color as the sun went long and gold against it.

reeses tree

There’s a reason the “golden hour” is photographically special.

When in Rome…go and tour the Vatican. I almost said I didn’t want to see it, but George insisted we go, and I’m so glad we did. It’s difficult to pick any one thing that was more dazzling or glorious than the next, though many of the fabulous features have already been photographed by a bajillion people. (Think Sistine Chapel, which really is tremendous.)

And then there is the map room. Corridor. Gallery. Every square inch of that room was covered in some kind of fantastic, elaborate painting or sculpture or carving. It was astonishing. Even after walking through most of the Vatican museum and galleries, I still gasped. And was overwhelmed. And had to leave; it was quickly too much.

It goes on and on and on...

It goes on and on and on…

And then we go to the Outer Banks. Sunrise on the Atlantic Ocean can dazzle a person on its own, without anything added to it.

#NoFilter

#NoFilter

The bars in Reykjavik put on a glitzy show during the Christmas season. This is but one of them. And it is highly recommended.

Glamorous, yet cozy.

Glamorous, yet cozy.

And finally, here is a bit of razzle-dazzle right here at home, on my window sill. I’m not entirely sure why the designer thought these lucite deer deserved to be given the Jabba the Hutt/Slave Leia treatment, but there they are nonetheless. Plus, they sure do catch the light beautifully, don’t they?

dazzling

You never can tell what you’ll find in a thrift store.

Are you dazzled yet? If not, let Richard Gere give you a little Razzle-Dazzle out the door (and if you haven’t seen Chicago, then change that immediately).

Lewisburg Alphabet: B is for Blossoms

Welcome to the Lewisburg Alphabet!

The weather is warming up, the days are growing longer, my favorite ice cream place has opened for the season… Friends, it seems that spring is upon us, and there is little that is more glorious than Lewisburg in the spring. And spring flowers are nice, but we get some incredible flowering trees.

Right now, even as we speak, this is happening outside my front door. Dig my ornamental pear tree.

Ornamental pear tree will soon be ornamented.

Ornamental pear tree will soon be ornamented.

And look at my squat-but-hardy hyacinths.

Every year, they struggle back up.

Every year, they struggle back up, bless their stunted little stems.

And ooh, Lordie. I’ve got a punk rock pussy willow in my back yard.

BUGGER OFF! -- It seemed to say.

BUGGER OFF! — It seemed to say.

But in a few short weeks, Lewisburg will be bursting at the seams with flowering trees and blossoms. (And pollen; local peeps, stock up on Claritin now.)

My ornamental pear will be stylin’ in my front yard.

It really looks like this outside my front door. Hashtag not a movie set.

It really looks like this outside my front door. Hashtag not a movie set.

The pussy willows will be furry and lush.

Oooh, fuzzy.

Oooh, soft and cushy.

And all over town, it will look something like this.

Just a mosey down the pretty street.

Just gonna mosey down the pretty street.

And speaking of pretty streets…

blossoms 1-001

HOLY CASCADING BLOSSOMS!

The Miller’s spectacular magnolia will be in bloom.

This thing deserves its own zip code.

This thing deserves its own zip code.

Meanwhile, down at the river…

Gigantic tree, in full bloom.

Gigantic tree, in full bloom.

And check out this bee, having its way with the flowering tree by the Lutheran church.

*Literally* doing what comes naturally.

*Literally* doing what comes naturally.

Lewisburg in the spring. Blossoms everywhere! This is what I get to toddle around in every day, and I feel so fortunate. It’s a visual feast that I am happy to take part in.

Come back soon to see what’s in store for C!

Travel Theme: Sensory

This week, the travel theme at Where’s My Backpack? is: Sensory!

OK, look. There’s a part of me that wants to make crap jokes asking “are you ready to be stimulated?” *tee hee* but then I think, what am I, twelve? My struggle is real. Onward to maturity! Here’s to our senses, and please enjoy the ride.

Paris. There are small ponds in the park that surrounds the Eiffel Tower. If you lean over the railing and look straight down from one of the upper observation decks, you can see them for yourself. And it’s a little disconcerting. Note: if you have vertigo, perhaps you should avoid this exercise.

Watch that first step. It's a doozy.

Watch that first step. It’s a doozy.

There’s something profoundly invigorating about getting on a boat. At least there is for me. When I’m on the water and the smell of the salty air hits me, and boat’s engine roars to life and we are seaward bound, and the wind whips my hair around my face, I feel everything come alive. I think I was a sailor in a past life.

See you later, Boston.

See you later, Boston.

Welcome to the Day-Glo Garden at the Great Lakes Science Center. Fun fact: I totally want to build an inner sanctum that looks like this. With a killer stereo system and all the streamable TV I want. Because really, this is what things look like inside my brain most of the time. Hashtag when I am a millionaire.

The only thing this is missing is are tiny sparkly pixies.

The only thing this is missing are tiny sparkly pixies.

When in Rome

Go to the Jewish ghetto, find a nice place to eat with sunny, pleasant outdoor seating and, if the fried artichokes are in season, eat them. When you go inside to use the restroom, prepare yourself for the smell of garlic wafting down from the rows and rows of corded bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

 

I had no idea what I was walking into.

And nary a vampire to be found. Savvy.

Behold! Music is just moments away with this handy-dandy travelling turntable and a trusty guitar. Photo taken at an Ellis Paul concert. Who I need to go see again, soon, but I digress.

Looks like the party's about to start.

Looks like someone has the party well in hand.

And finally.

My place. Black bean burgers with cilantro pesto on a bed of shredded sweet potatoes. It was delicious. My mouth is watering at this photo: Paging Dr. Pavlov!

I like vegetables. That is all.

Therein lies my sensory challenge. I hope you have fun checking out the other participants in this week’s photo challenge. Thanks for dropping by!

Advice: Heart Problems Galore

Dear Bartender and Priestess,

I am a 22-year-old man and recently got dumped. Again. And this last one really hurt.

We were together for about a month, and I really liked this girl, “Sally”. One night, we got involved in a long conversation about family, and family history, and the kind of baggage we have. One of the things she told me about (along with her parents’ divorce and an estrangement with another sister) was she had a brother who was born with a congenital heart disease. I thought, FINALLY! Someone who might understand me. You see, I too was born with heart disease. I got all excited when I told her about my condition. I thought she would get it.

Instead, she bolted. First, she was slow to respond to texts and calls. Then she stopped replying altogether. When I went to her house to ask her what was wrong all she said was, “I am sorry, “Bob”, I just can’t do this.”

It’s really painful. I know my life isn’t going to be terribly long, but does that mean I am supposed to be alone for it? Sally should know that as much as her brother deserved to be loved, I do too. How can I help a girl get past my heart problem and see the real me?

–Heart Problems Galore

B: Oh, my dear young man. You have my compassion and my good will. You were born with a very tough row to hoe, and I admire and respect your desire to push it aside in the pursuit of a normal life for as long as it’s available to you.

But you need to understand that your conditions bring a special set of complications into any new relationship you want to start. Of course you deserve to be loved; we all do. But you need to find someone who’s willing to love extraordinarily.

The girl you talk about, “Sally”, has already been through an unenviable degree of pain in her life, and if you and she are contemporaries then she’s only 22. You said her parents have divorced, and she’s got an estrangement with her sister. You also talk about her brother—the one who shares your congenital heart problem—in the past tense. He had a heart problem, he deserved to be loved. Has he already passed away? That’s a whole lot of anguish for one young woman to handle in only 22 years. You’re asking for her compassion but not giving her any in return. She may be wounded, and wounded so deeply she can’t dig down any deeper to give you the sort of love you were hoping for from her.

P: Oh, I’m so sorry. As if your damaged heart was not enough, now you have a broken one. Whatever your heart’s condition, you, like all of us, are looking both to love and be loved.

Understanding what may be true about Sally isn’t going to make your heart hurt any less, but her reality seems as complicated as yours. We don’t know why her parents split up, but statistics tell us that it’s often about the death of a child. It seems that everyone in her family ran to different corners. She already feels alone. So your condition may well represent a loss of everything rather than the possibility of something beautiful and precious.

While it seems that the potential to understand your life may be there, it doesn’t seem like she’s made that leap. She may never make it. She may always choose safety. You may be a wonderful choice, and the fact is that none of us know how long we have, but you are not a choice she can make.

In life, in work, and in love, people are only capable of that of which they’re capable.

B: You need to understand that it’s not about you, even though it affects you profoundly. It’s about her, and her capacity to keep opening her heart. And it’s not that she’s wrong to draw in and protect herself. She may have reached her pain limit, and that needs to be respected, in everybody, at all times.

The unfortunate thing about relationships is you can’t make the object of your desire, desire you back. That’s the part that hurts.

You have a difficult task. When we start relationships that we think have staying power, we tend to project our cozy newfound couplehood into a gauzy ideal; we picture what our children would look like, we imagine long nights under the covers, we see Thanksgivings fifty years from now, with gaggles of squirrely, laughing grandkids around the table. What we don’t project into is widowhood at 40. We don’t imagine starting over. We don’t start relationships thinking, “What’s my next move when this relationship comes to an end?” And, unless you experience a medical revolution regarding your heart problems, that’s exactly what you’re asking your new love to ask herself. What will she do when you leave?

That’s a tough starting point.

P: There are so many myths out there about love, and most of them are fairytales. We choose to love people. And as painful as it is, we can, and sometimes must choose to unlove them. Because her choices, given her baggage, as you call it, are for safety. You’re not a safe choice, partially because your heart is damaged and partially because you’re willing to grab what life has to offer. That scares the hell out of a lot of people, and good for you!

B: You are digging into your life with both hands. You are not letting your condition best you, and you’re blazing forward with the intent to love, and do so wholly, for as long as you are able. It’s admirable, and it’s brave, and it’s intense, and it’s incredibly healthy. You just need to find someone willing to make that plunge with you, knowing the likely downside and deciding to go for it anyway.

But you can do it. The thing is, if you want to have an extraordinary love, you need to be extraordinary. And by default you are asking your intended to step outside the parameters of a “normal” relationship.

You’re allowed to be disappointed by the outcome of your attempted relationship with Sally, because you thought you had an “in”. But, as we all have to discover as we navigate every relationship we’re in, we can’t let other people’s baggage define us.

So no, Sally wasn’t capable of having a relationship with you.

P: As Terri says, you get to be extraordinary. Why not let your heart condition be part of what makes you that way? Not in a negative fashion, but in an aggressive, “one of the side effects of my congenital heart disease is that I live passionately and love deeply” kinda way.

Are you an activist for your disease? I know it’s not everyone’s dream to become an activist, but there’s something so exciting about bold people who tell you what their limitations are and then wow you with their strengths. If your heart problems are just another (out front) piece of you, then the people who come into your life come in knowing some of your weaknesses, they’re going to run away long before you fall in love…

Being part of a group these days almost always means you get a tee shirt. Get a bunch. Wear them! Go to conferences and meet ups, get to know other people who are living with your disease. Educate people. And do things you want to do. You know that the likelihood of a shortened life is your reality; what are you doing to ensure that the time you have is fascinating?

You deserve a fabulous life. (we all do) You got dealt a crummy card. (many people do). But that card isn’t all of who you are, by a long shot. Discover your passions, love yourself wildly and watch people line up — if you have time given that you’re busy having a good time.

And figuring out what groups to belong to will give you a chance to meet new people while your heart is healing. Because you cared a lot about Sally and you had high hopes. That leaves you with a very tender heart. The tenderness will heal. I think we can promise you that. (Because pssst: Both the Bartender and the Priestess have had their hearts bruised on more than one occasion. But bruises heal; yours will too.)

broken heart napkin

Pomegranate juice. For heart health.

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Want to know more about The Bartender and The Priestess? Go here!

Thank you for reading. Now go tell all your friends about us. {{{heart hug}}}

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