Mediocre

Through my mental health challenges and my love/hate relationship with Harvard, I have learned to build a strong support system. I've got a therapist, a psychopharmacologist, and an academic therapist. I've got a writing group and a committee of professors to move my work forward.

Though my life has been amazingly wonderful and wonderfully amazing in the past few weeks, I've learned the hard way I cannot put all my happy eggs in one basket. I have to take care of all parts of me to feel self-assured and independent.

The truth is, I didn't accomplish all I wanted to during this break in terms of my academic work. I am so close to completing a major milestone in my program, but I keep getting blocked. It's my usual mind-f*cking cocktail of procrastination, an unrealistic need for perfection, and the "significance" of this milestone I self-impose. Add to this feelings of failure and inadequacy because I'm not doing all I want to do and I get paralyzed in front of my computer.

So I met with my academic counselor yesterday. She reminded me of how I work best, the strategies I've used in the past to successfully manage my time, and how to reframe my thinking so I'm not so hard on myself. She also introduced to me a way to think about my goal setting that is not so hung up on a due date, and more attached to a daily time commitment. It's not that crazy a concept, but it's new to me, so I'm excited to try it.

One of the things we discussed is how I see myself in relation to other people at Harvard. At Harvard, I think if myself as an average student, at best. I am very smart, but I'm not producing work that knock professors out of their seats. However, when I talk to other people about what I've accomplished, I realize I have done some great sh*t. It's not that I've done better stuff than the non-Harvard people in my world...it's just not average, you know? It's far from average as a matter of fact.

You know what else I realized while talking to my counselor? At Harvard, average equals mediocre in my mind. Even in my program where we profess to be all about support and never about competition, the hidden curriculum says otherwise. With every success a colleague celebrates, we all feel a little worse because we're not there yet. So to just be average...to just be moving along, is actually to be less than average.

It was a powerful realization because it helped me understand why I'm so adverse to being average. Average in a doctoral program at Harvard is no joke. I should be proud...especially since this program hardly ever gives out "C"s, so average is an "A-." And if I can make all other parts of my life extraordinary while being here, then I'm doing a damn good job.

Lessons from Our First Fight?

My guy and I had our first unpleasant conversation this evening. Boy, did I learn a ton. I also need to come up with a good pseudonym for him.

Lesson #1: I know what he sounds like when he's mad. I should clarify...he wasn't mad at me. He had a horrible day at work and needed to vent about corporate culture and his boss. He is a passionate man, so he really vented.

Lesson #2: I have more testosterone than I thought. I fancy myself quite empathic and touchy-feely. I'm a listener, for goodness' sake! That's like the highest compliment for a woman, is it not? Kidding! However, some of my first responses were questions like: "What's the next step?" "What can I do to help you?" Basically, I turned into a dude and tried to fix it.

Lesson #3: He has more. It was kind of amazing how respectfully yet firmly he told me what he needed. It definitely wasn't me telling him what to do...not at that moment.

Lesson #4: I am not used to healthy disagreement. I've heard stories of what it's supposed to look like. I've studied it in the context of organizational behavior. But it is clear I will have to practice listening without taking it all personally. I will have to practice arguing the issues and not the person.

I think the most important lesson is how invested I am in him. I want him to be happy, really happy. I also want him to be employed, really employed. When he spoke of his urge to just walk out of the building and never look back, I was torn between empathy and fear. I felt bad for him, but also felt quitting was not an option.

The last lesson is ultimately about me projecting my own fears and lack of trust, along with my distorted views of money and work and self-esteem. He and I have plans as a couple, but they are in their infancy...we are in our infancy. It is unhealthy and unwise to hold onto them so tight. I know I am important to him...I know our goals are important to him. I have to trust he won't jeopardize them, just like I won't.

As I write this, I'm also thinking investment is not all bad. He even acknowledged that I had a right to get pissed if he up and quit his job. I have to figure out for myself what makes sense at this point in our relationship.

I have more to write, but I have to go to bed.

Love as Money Saver

Since this post, my conflicting feelings have subsided and it is with a clarity I have never known that I know this is the man for my life. We tell each things we have never told another person; we are planning for a future neither of us had imagined. I don't just feel love from him...I feel support, passion, interest, awe, respect. I adore getting to know him...even the parts that annoy me. It is like reading the most fantastic book ever...where you are hungry for more but you don't want it to end.

But that is not the point of this post.

I already sense a shift in my thinking, especially financially. We've spoken of our lack of money management skills. He's told me he's quite content having me control the finances. Though I first balked at the idea, I'm growing more excited by it. Money management has a different level of responsibility now; I'm kinda digging it. We want to travel. We will probably have to finance our own wedding since we're both of a certain age. We don't want our children to feel the stress that comes from struggling. I don't mind taking more control. It perfectly aligns with my personal goal for 2011.

So, I've become quite a creative tightwad. We go out for drinks, but we cook at home more. We find cheap ways to go skiing/snowboarding. We are establishing vacation funds. Saving money has never been so much fun.

It could be argued I should have had these clear goals before...and I did. But they weren't as exciting as they are now. I am creating an emergency fund so we can afford time off if I have to move for a job. I am saving for a Caribbean vacation to an island neither of us has ever been.

One would think getting in a relationship means that you spend more money. Perhaps the difference is our age...we're both in our mid- to late-30s, so our priorities have shifted. And we already know that our lives are intertwined; my decisions affect him and vice versa.

What a wonderful feeling.

Welcome Back?

I had a wonderful conversation with my friend last weekend. Not only did we catch up on each other's...I wonder where one puts the apostrophe in this situation...lives, we talked things regarding our friendship and communication. I'm a big fan of doing that...sometimes I do it too much.

This conversation was initiated by the discovery that she had read a previous blog post. Since it had been months since I last posted, I figured people had forgotten about this blog. Apparently, RSS feeds never die...I'd forgotten about that. So she saw I had written and read.

I don't regret what I wrote. It's my blog after all, though I do wish I'd had the wherewithal to tell my friend in person what I was feeling. A personal blog, more than any other use of the internet, really brings to the fore the tension between public and private, the responsibility of the anonymous.

I say this to say that if anyone has an RSS feed on this blog and has returned to it, then welcome back.

Conflicted, Conflicting

I didn't have any high expectations for the holiday weekend. I was doing something I'd never done: snowboarding. And I was spending it with someone I'd never imagine I would: a new friend whom I've known since high school. I was looking forward to linking my turns, getting a good buzz on, and meeting some new people. That's about it.

Those things did indeed happen. But something much more took place. I met a guy...more than a guy. We were compatible from the moment we started dancing together. Not only does he say the right things, he does the right things. He is perfect for me in his imperfections. We are as different as we are similar and we don't seem to mind.

And he really likes me.

I mean shut-down-his-eHarmony-profile, have-closing-conversations-with-women-he-was-seeing-before, make-my-picture-the-wallpaper-on-his-phone, introduce-me-to-his-best-friend likes me.

When I just relax and enjoy it, it's wonderful. Full of laughter and conversation and passion. I don't tell many people when I'm dating someone, because it usually blows up in my face and I don't like dealing with the subsequent questions. I have no problem actually lying to my friends when they ask about my love life. But when I am relaxing and enjoying, I want to scream about this from the rooftops. I want to introduce him to everyone.

Then there are many times when I question. Think about how easy it is to say and do all he as said and done. Wonder what it is he isn't telling me, even as he shares things he hardly tells anyone. Realize how stupid it is to be so into a man I've known less than a week. It is then I bite my tongue when I think about telling anyone.

I mean it is really silly for us to feel like teenagers when we're well into our 30s (he's one year older than me). And yet...we feel like teenagers when we're well into our 30s, you know? I haven't felt this mutual giddiness in a very long while. I think about him all the time...do you know how long it's been since I've thought about any man all the time?

Right now, I'm conflicted between staying in the moment and being "realistic." Because for some reason, those two things are not the same. Even though this is my reality. It seems as though staying in the moment equals losing myself. I wonder why I can't feel blissful without feeling a bit untethered.

We'll see...