Are you stuck in 'the friend zone?'

I'm trying to remember the first time I heard someone use the term 'friend zone.' I believe it was back in 2007. Interesting twist....the person whom shared with me that he often gets stuck in 'the friend zone' with women also had me feeling as if I was stuck in the friend zone with him....despite the fact that it seemed like we both started off liking each other. Arghhh. Thus began the cycle that perpetuated ambiguity and confusion. What happened? Did I miss something along the way? And is it just me or do you hear people talk about the dreaded friend zone all too frequently nowadays?

How does one get stuck in the friend zone exactly? At what point does a flirtatious or magnetic attraction  become friendship and nothing more? Has the friend zone phenomenon always existed or is our current society responsible for its more frequent rate of prevalence? How much of it has to do with more ambiguous and liberal interactions between two people? Is the friend zone more likely to occur between two people of the opposite sex or is it a phenomenon just as prevalent in the gay community? And what (if any) is the connection between the friend zone and its evil twin 'friends with benefits?'

Unfortunately, I have no answers to these questions (sorry dear readers...I'm notorious for asking more questions than providing answers or solutions). I'm curious to hear what others think about this topic though.

I wonder if we're greedy when it comes to dating, courtship (does that even exist in the 21st century?!), sex, and monogamy vs. "keeping my options open." Or perhaps we become overwhelmed and paralyzed by too many choices. Then there's also the definition of friendship, one fraught with too many gray areas.....which at times can include too little patience for sexual tension and not enough for platonic endurance.

It can be easier to get stuck in the friend zone if you are interested in Person A, but there's also Person B, C, and D that you may be curious about or attracted to for a whole different host of reasons. You may not know what you want exactly or perhaps you're not confident enough. Or you're afraid to risk revealing the feelings you do have because you don't want it to take away from the strong friendship already in tact. Maybe you're not direct with communicating your thoughts, feelings, or agenda.

If you truly want to explore a more than friends relationship, either you or the other person has to speak up. It is wrong to assume that just because you're stuck in the friend zone (from your own perspective) that the other person wants to be in the friend zone with you. If neither person brings it up, both are to blame. You then must decide to either accept and appreciate the friendship without exploring that Pandora's Box...or the next time around when you find yourself in a similar predicament with another individual: Take a chance at being direct, even if it means falling flat on your face. You may get some scratches and bruises after the fall, but at least you'll pick yourself up off the ground knowing exactly where you stand: zone-free.

Trust: the "faith" of relationships?

There are numerous reasons I could list on why not to trust someone, but I'm more curious to ponder the opposite: What is it that drives one to take the blind leap of faith and choose to trust another human being? Is it dependent upon the relational dynamic? Is it easier or harder to trust an individual vs. a group entity? Are we more likely to trust others with our secrets, feelings, passions? How much trust do we invest when it comes to trusting someone with our life, fidelity, money?

These are questions I've been pondering since I watched the Martin Scorsese movie "Casino" last night. Throughout the movie, I noticed and found it funny that characters repeatedly (and emphatically) made comments about needing to be able to trust one of the other characters....funny because it's a movie that centers around the mob and  there's major underlying deception going on among multiple characters. As much as they can hold their own in certain situations, the ultimate downfall is that the characters chose to trust when it wasn't in their best interest to do so. And the price for trust? Loss of money, loss of mental sanity, loss of love, loss of friendship, loss of life. With so much at stake, why do they trust? Why do any of us trust?

Perhaps trust is to relationships what faith is to religion....belief in something "higher" or better despite the unknown lurking in the shadows. A yearning for connection on an intimate level (whether with a friend, lover, or spouse) overpowers the risk it takes to trust and the consequences that may unfold as a result of that trust. Could it be that we would rather see the humanity in each other than be jaded and completely closed off? Maybe there's hope for humanity after all. Or so I trust.

Closeted free spirit

 Photo taken by me, Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest, August 2012.


It's funny how you think you know yourself well....but then one particular day, week, or month comes along to reveal something about yourself you had not noticed before. All this time you gravitated to and admired others that had this special presence about them, not even recognizing maybe the reason is because deep down....you are just like them.

Travelers. Independent thinkers. Unconventional lifestyles that go against the grain of the status quo. Intelligent. Quirky. Friendly and approachable. Walking contradiction. Incredibly curious. Spontaneous. Worldly in one way or another. Crave meaningful experiences and people, no matter how fleeting. Love learning. Open-minded. Dare to be different. Creative. Explorers. Seek adventure. Challenge themselves mentally and physically. Take risks. Usually fearless. Compassionate. Appreciate both the simplicities and complexities of life.

Go ahead. Admit it.

You're a closeted free spirit.

Ponderings of the culturally curious

I'm not sure why, but culture has long fascinated me. My earliest (or at least, most significant) memories related to cultural curiosity: Playing at a friend's house (on several occasions) when I was 9 or 10 years old. My friend Annette and her family were Puerto Rican. Though Annette spoke English, her family members spoke in thick Spanish accents. As I didn't know Spanish, I heard words but had no idea what they were saying to each other. I was curious to know. Were they saying anything they wanted in front of me knowing I wouldn't have a clue what they were saying? Or was it much more mundane conversation than I conjured up in my imagination? All I knew is that I wanted to decipher their foreign language, which in my mind was a barrier to my understanding. Yet it was also fun for me, as I found myself watching their body language for clues on what they might be saying to each other...or at least how they were saying it. I guess you could say this sparked the beginning of my curiosity to learn, to explore, to understand people from different cultural backgrounds. Sometimes I even wish I were of a different race or from a different culture....to wear different clothes, to have different colored skin and hair, to speak another language, to eat different foods, to have different values, rituals, traditions. Even a different daily routine. There's nothing all that fascinating about being a white woman from the US, at least culturally speaking...

This past week I've been thinking alot about culture and how much different one's life could be submerged in one culture versus another. A repressive culture. A liberating and open-minded culture. An oppressive or dangerous culture. A misogynist culture. A culture of violence. A culture of capitalism. A culture off the grid. So many alternate identities we'd have. Are we any less strong, brave, free-spirited, open-minded, or obedient in each different cultural environment?

If I were living in the Middle East amidst 'the morality police' that punishes women for things like revealing their ankles, would I submit to obedience out of fear or would I be bold and subversive no matter the cost? And at the same time, am I making biased negative or positive assumptions about culture due to inaccurate knowledge? I'm thirsty for knowledge. I thought my mind was wide open before, but I'm realizing how little I know even for someone who is probably more educated and well-read than the average American. Truly humbling and oddly refreshing to realize there are mysteries in life which I may never be aware or be able to grasp in understanding. Keeps life always juicy and 'new' in a way.

Iran and Palestine have been at the forefront of my mind as far as a few clients I work with that are from those regions, as this is the first time I have worked with anyone from the culture of the Middle East. Listening to their experiences and the impact of culture on their experiences has been eye opening, as well as inspiring. I find myself having feelings all across the board for them....sadness, anger, compassion, admiration, inspiration, and hopefulness.

 Interestingly, I also watched a movie this week called "Circumstance'  (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1684628/) that examines issues of cultural influence. The film takes place in Tehran and centers on the forbidden love of two teenage girls that struggle between being true to themselves amidst an oppressive misogynistic culture. We can say we would do this, that, or the other "If I were in that situation....," but how do we know what we would truly do? If only there were alternate realities/universes to find out. Then again, that would ruin the juicy mystery...

City walking

As I walked around Capitol Hill tonight, I got to thinking about the art of walking: how it brings out something in my personality that seems to lay dormant when I simply drive my car every day. Is it just me or is this true for most people?


If you've never had the experience of living in a walkable city (specifically taking public transportation and walking quite a bit as part of your daily ritual), you may not understand what I mean. It's almost as if there's a psychology of walking vs. a psychology of driving in cities....and each one brings out different personality traits, for me anyway. Not that I'm a totally different person, but I feel my persona is different maybe.

When I walk around a city like Seattle, Chicago, or New York City, it's as if all my senses are heightened in some strangely pleasant way. My eyes wander to the roads, the cars, the lights, the sky, people in front/around/behind/beside me, the restaurants, the bars, the street musicians, and the obscure little shops I wouldn't normally stumble across had I been driving. My nose picks up the scent of the cold winter air; my ears tune in to laughter, chatter, fire truck sirens, music spilling out as bar doors open and close. My footsteps happily occupy the sidewalks and crosswalks as my mind wanders further than my feet.

Walking somehow allows my mind freedom to expand, to reflect, to analyze, to ponder, to let go of inhibitions or expectations, to explore, to step outside the box, to feel like a part of the community...to live more in wonder. Walking also jogs my memory, reminding me of people and places from times past. A part of me wonders if I wrote more in Chicago because I walked more than I do in Seattle. Wandering around on foot in a city seems to be good for my spirit.

Driving, however, is more like a chore...it's something I dread doing, but I know it has to be done. It simply gets me from point A to point B. It is the antithesis of walking in almost all aspects. It doesn't encourage me to relax or take in my surroundings. It's the one activity that can get me a little aggressive....which is weird because I'm not usually aggressive at all; driving can bring out the jerk in me. When I drive, the goal is to get where I want to go as fast as possible. I always pay attention to breathtaking sunrises and sunsets when I'm driving, sure, but that's about as far as it goes. There's nothing creative and adventurous going on within me when I drive. In fact, most times I take the same exact driving routes and sometimes get anxiety when there are times I must find my way along confusing streets. It's as if my mind is so attuned to doing pleasant and fun things at a slower pace (while walking) that it will totally pass me by if I'm driving.

As much as my personality is different driving vs. walking, each serve their own purposes and come with their own rewards. When I lived in Chicago, I didn't have a car and so I never had the luxury (or choice) to drive when I wanted to do so. The great thing about living in Seattle is that I do have a car, which means I can have the best of what both walking and driving worlds have to offer.

Go indie

Every now and then I think about a guy I dated when I had first moved to Chicago 10 years ago. For as many faults as the guy had, I will credit him with having an influence on me when it comes to one particular subject: independent film. Before he arrived in my life, I primarily watched mainstream "blockbuster" movies. I'm not sure if it had more to do with the culture of the cities/towns I lived in growing up (ie, little to no opportunities to explore the art and film genres) or that it wasn't something that was important to me in my younger years. Whatever the case may be, the guy opened me up to the world of independent film. Given that I'm more of a 'off the beaten path' kinda girl, he seemed astounded that indie movies weren't on my radar of interests. Little did I know, I had been missing out by watching so many predictable, cookie cutter movies all those years prior. Sure, I like my share of entertaining mindless movies....but just as with my passion for reading books, "fluff" gets boring and I can only take it in small doses. I need intellectual stimulation....and I need to feel something! "Stimulation" in any sense of the word is key.

Now that I've been watching mainly indie movies the last 10 years, I can't imagine NOT watching them! So much more refreshing and unique in perspective, provoking deeper thoughts and feelings in equal measure. I find myself seeking out these movies that I just know will have me thinking about something in a different way, or challenge me to feel something I didn't know was there within me. Such has been particularly the case this past week with two different movies I watched. Funny enough, they were movies I wasn't sure I would like but wanted to take a chance and watch them anyway out of mere curiosity.

Props to "127 Hours" and "Catfish." I don't even know where to begin. Honestly, I can't say much without giving away the plot to both. Looking back, I wish I could have watched them with a friend or family member (I watched them by myself) because both offer a rich opportunity to discuss those fascinating grey areas of life. Rather than reveal what I saw, instead I'll reveal what the two movies had me questioning. I urge you to check out these movies if the following questions intrigue you or dare you to explore as I did.

"127 Hours:" What lengths/extremes would you (seriously and honestly) go to in order to survive and save yourself in an incredibly life threatening situation? Is the will to live the major predicting factor and most important "survival skill?" Does one's life literally 'flash before your eyes' when it looks like one's approaching death's door and how does that compel one to act/not act? Are we capable of so much more than we think we are when it comes to utilizing psychological strength of mind? Do only certain environments (ie, being in the wilderness) draw this out of us?

"Catfish:" How is it that we may more easily put ourselves out there for complete strangers in the cyberworld (and at a faster progression with self-disclosure and seeming "intimacy") than communicating and interacting with others in person? Have we made ourselves more vulnerable online because the risk to be vulnerable in person feels too daunting or threatening to our sense of self? Is the "real you" the one you demonstrate on social networking sites or how you interact with people on a daily basis face to face? Have our relationships with people and the way we relate to them become a blurry or indistinguishable mix of truth/reality and cyber/fantasy? How do we respond or cope when truth shatters the fantasy? Which parts of our psyches do we choose to let "shine?" Which parts do we unconsciously or deliberately keep hidden from others (and/or ourselves!) out of fear, shame, disappointment, or some kind of deep emotional pain? Once you know truth, you can't "unknow" it....so what do you do with truth once you have it? How much does the way you respond (ie, with anger and hate vs. forgiveness and compassion) to someone who has hurt or deceived you reveal about your character? Again, as the question I posed with "127 Hours": Do only certain situations reveal this aspect of oneself?

Go indie.

Think and feel something.

Discuss.

How young or old are you, really?

(Photo by Jill Greenberg)
I was having a fun little conversation with two of my coworkers yesterday at the end of our lunch break. I can't remember how we got on the topic, but the subject of psychological age came up. There's chronological age and then there's psychological age. Psychological age differs from chronological age in that the difference lies not with how many years you've been on this Earth (chronological), but with how old one perceives or feels oneself to be emotionally and mentally.

Interestingly, I noticed a pattern in our discussion about this....fluctuation or fluidity in psychological age depending on the context of situations, relationships, life experiences,etc. We were talking about how old we feel at work vs. maybe in regard to romantic relationships or other facets of our lives. I commented that I feel like a 40 year old when I'm at work/in sessions with clients, but most of the time I feel about 25 years old. What about you, my blog readers? Are there certain situations in which you feel "older," "younger," or your actual chronological age?

I remember thinking when I was a little kid (ok, even as a teenager or in my 20's, haha) that one day I would reach this "magical" stage or moment where suddenly *Poof!*: I would feel like an "adult." Little did I realize that this never really happens, permanently anyway. At least for me. I can't speak for the millions of human beings on the planet. I'd be curious to see how people feel about chronological age vs. psychological age in other cultures around the world. Perhaps it's just us silly Americans that never really grow up? ....And I'm ok with that!

I know for me, there's nothing more gratifying than moments where I find myself having the silliness and playfulness of a 6 year old, the passions of a 17 year old, the free and adventurous spirit of a 21 year old, the confidence of a 30 year old, and the compassion and wisdom of a 40-50something year old.

Perhaps the indicator of a good life is being able to embrace the best of our various psychological ages.