Lovelorn Again and Not Loving it
By Leah Light, © 2003
Back in my married days when lovelorn women clients came to me, I wanted to roll my eyes. I found this type of client to always be the same, irrespective of her age, career and social status. You know the type. The best way to describe her is love-obsessed. And in my line of work she comes to me for a reading, ostensibly to shed some light on her future. But what she's really asking is for me to tell her what she wants to hear. That the object of her desire is Prince Charming himself; that he will love her, things will work out, they will live happily ever after. Unfortunately, this is rarely ever the case. Men can smell desperation a mile away. Most likely, the poor guy will sense the cross-hair sites that have been set upon him. It's man-hunting season. He's the quarry. And he's going to run.
I had less patience for these lovelorn ladies back when I was safely cocooned in my marriage. Couldn't they see that their strategies didn't work? How could otherwise intelligent, mature women lower themselves to groveling for someone who obviously wasn't right for them or interested in them. Where was their self-esteem?
My tolerance level has changed rather dramatically since I suddenly found myself single again. Entering the dating game after a 20-year hiatus was exciting and a little scary at first. Then really exciting when I experienced new love. Suddenly I was 17 again, riding the hormone-driven roller coaster and rediscovering my youth. As much as I hate to admit it, I also quickly became a member of the love-obsessed club: Checking my emails five times a day, wondering if He was going to call. Worrying that He might never call again. My head told me I was being silly, but my heart was fully in charge. And inevitably when things didn't work out with Him, I cried myself to sleep at night, raged at men in general, and doubted myself. I'd become one of my lovelorn clients.
I wonder how is it that as intelligent women we fall into the trap of so desperately needing a man to complete us. Perhaps it has to do with centuries of history in which we had to mind the children while keeping the cave fires burning. We really did need our men then to bring home the bacon, or the elk, or whatever meat would sustain the clan for the winter. If he didn't come back, we and our children would starve to death. A man on the other hand didn't absolutely need us women to survive, though the cave was a cold and lonely place without us. And of course the survival of the race depended on our ability to bear children as well. Still, the fact remained that an individual man could survive on his own, while it was nearly impossible for a woman to do so.
Now it is millennia later and some things have changed. Women can and do both bring home the bacon and cook it. Many raise children alone and live productive, man-less lives. But the old biological programming remains intact and kicks in at the most inopportune times. It's something we have to learn to balance and integrate into the rest of our lives, or at least accept and work around. I'll be the first to admit it's easier said than done.
As for myself, I've patched my heart back together a couple of times and worse, broke another's. Refusing to be defeated, I have clambered back up on the proverbial horse. I'm learning many things about myself and about Mars vs. Venus along the way. And I've gained a great deal of compassion for the other brave/fool hearty souls who stumble forward on this rocky path in search of true love.
I no longer roll my eyes when I see the lovelorn ladies coming. I'm still not going to tell them what they want to hear. But I do lend a listening ear, hand them a tissue if they need it, and let them know I understand. Millenia-old patterns don't change over night, but together we're working on it. And the cave is still a cold and lonely place without us.