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Crushes: writing your name next to his surname is normal, right?

Posted on January 15, 2011 | 1 comment

Once upon a time, Boyzone’s Ronan Keating was my ideal man. I loved his wonky teeth, his cheeky smile, his friendly, generous nature, and the way he said “God bless you” on repeat. And, oh, how he warbled! I recorded his every interview and music video off the telly and watched them over and over, sighing in frustration because I needed to be with him.

Cut to six years later when my crush waltzed in to the bakery where I was working. His posters no longer wallpapered my bedroom and I couldn’t even tell you where I’d stored those self-made videos. And he was married. And he had a child. And he was a lot shorter than I’d thought. And he’d had his teeth done. My crush had dissipated.

Still, for old times’ sake…

And then, not too long ago, these familiar feelings resurfaced. This time, for a guy in a class I was taking. He was cool and interesting and creative. His smile would light up a room, and his eyes twinkled with indescribable colours. He took my breath away. Literally. Like I was so winded I couldn’t even string a sentence together. I discussed him with friends, who enjoyed convincing me that he fancied me. I analysed his every move. My, he’s standing very close to me. He must want me. But though he had my number and my email and he knew where I worked and lived and socialised, he never asked me out. And when, one day, I heard that he was with someone else, I burst into tears. Irrational, I know. There was nothing between us. We’d never even had any one-on-one time together. Now, I look back and make fun of that tongue-tied, loved-up fool. I realise that this guy wasn’t all smiles and flirtations. He was just a person, with insecurities and imperfections. And maybe if I’d been real with him, and actually spoken to him as a human being, things would have been different.

It’s not called a “crush” without good reason. Thefreedictionary.com defines “crush” as: to press between opposing bodies so as to break or injure; to break, pound, or grind into small fragments or powder; to put down; to overwhelm or oppress severely; to crumple. Sound familiar?

A crush lights up your day. The tiniest sign that he might be interested in you fills you with hope and excitement- the slightest touch, the way he says your name or looks you in the eye. His dimples, his scent, and even his handwriting (girls are weird, I know!) make you classify him as the cutest male to have ever walked this earth. And then, one day, he crushes your crush by rejecting you or by not being all you thought he’d be. He doesn’t put his cups in the dish washer, he can be quite self-centred at times, he’s vainer than you are, his feet smell…

Here’s how to survive a crush (without getting crushed):

1) Snap back to reality

If you’re crushing on Zac Efron or Ryan Reynolds, that’s okay. Just don’t base all your future plans around becoming their blushing bride. It’s pretty normal for a teenager to swoon over images of soap stars in gossip magazines but if you’re still doing it when you’re in your thirties, you need to get out more. Find a hobby, hang out with friends, and spend some time around real live members of the general public. A fantasy won’t keep you warm in bed at night.

2) Test the waters

If you’d rather not spend your entire adult life mooning over a guy who may not even know you exist, why not cut the crap and tell him how you feel? Or you may feel safer engaging in the dipping-your-toes approach before plunging into that ice-cold lake. Mention that you’ll be down the local pub later and see if he shows up. Or give him a compliment. It’s not flirting unless he takes the bait and compliments you back. If he throws in a wink, you’re in there!

3) Learn to see the wood for the trees

You may think he’s staring at you when actually he’s fixating on the giant spider in the corner. You read somewhere that if he crosses his legs towards you or his eyes dilate as you converse, it means he’s into you. But first make sure he’s not eyeing up the hot blonde to your left. You wonder why he keeps showing up at your work place, but if you work in McDonald’s, have you ever considered that he doesn’t want to father your unborn child, and that he just wants an Egg McMuffin? You decide that he must like you because he’s on Facebook chat when you’re on Facebook chat. Has it ever occurred to you that the guy has other friends too? 213 of them! His world doesn’t revolve around you. Yet anyway.

4) Be yourself

If you’re acting all “school girl crush”, you’re probably just gonna annoy and/or freak the dude out. Unless, of course, you’re wearing the uniform. Guys really are suckers for things like that. On a more serious note, if you’re true to yourself and act accordingly, your crush may be attracted to such a genuine, down-to-earth gal. And if he’s not, then he’s simply not the man for you. And who said Princess Charming needed a man anyway?

5) Give your crush a break

Maybe you’re smothering him/her with your stares, your constant compliments on their new profile pictures, your texts that (not so) subtly hint at your single status, and the way you’re just always there. Take a step back and allow him/her to breathe. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe they’ll miss you when you rein in all that attention you’ve been lavishing upon them. I know a couple who have been happily married for almost 30 years. The man had been pursuing the woman for weeks but she was after another dashing young man. However, when the first guy stopped showing an interest in her, it made her think about things and she realised that the man she wanted to be with was her now husband. Bingo!

6) Be careful

If you’re daydreaming about your best friend’s girlfriend, your boss, your teacher, your student, or even your little brother’s wingman, you’re treading on thin ice. It’s not a crime to indulge in the fantasy once in a while but it’s when you act on it that things get complicated and people get hurt. If acting on a crush may lead to a loss of a job or a friendship or a marriage, or if it may even get someone into trouble with the law, then it’s not worth it. You may think you’re in love but, trust me, remove yourself from the situation for a while and, like any craving, it’ll soon diminish or will be replaced by something else. Crisis averted!

7) Be confident

Confidence is sexy. Believe in yourself, your good qualities, and your desirability. If you’re happy with your own company, others will be drawn to you, including your crush.

Dimitri is a stud and he knows it. Check out how confident he is and how he goes after what he wants. Granted, poor Olga probably got his number blocked and possibly toyed with the idea of a restraining order…

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Posted in Love

Tagged confidence, couple, crush, dimitri the stud, egg mcmuffin, facebook, fantasy, mcdonald's, mother in law, relationship, ronan keating, ryan reynolds, school uniform, sexy, single, unrequited love, zac efron

The unexpected: balding eyeballs and sheep poo

Posted on January 11, 2011 | 2 comments

This was taken before...

Everything finally seems to be in order. You’re feeling great, you’ve discovered your passions, and found your niche in life. You’re enjoying yourself and living in the now. You’re perfectly content with your partner or your single status, and you’re more at ease with life and they way you live it.

You’re moving along at a steady, comfortable pace when suddenly, some unforeseen circumstance throws a pothole in your path and gives you a serious jolt. And everything you’ve learned and implemented whooshes out the door. You instantly morph back into that stressed out, negative, completely un-zen like creature you’d been trying so desperately to shake off.

The unexpected can surprise you in any form- a death, a job loss, a life-threatening illness. Even the less serious but equally unexpected things can shake you to your core.

I was finally feeling good about myself. I had let go of control and was starting to enjoy life and love myself. Until one day recently, as I cleaned my flat, I managed to get bleach in my eye (I never claimed to be the sharpest tool in the shed). And just like that, half my eye lashes vanished. I felt as though I’d lost my femininity and charm. I might as well give up on finding a man, I thought dismally. I’d pass by the mirror and burst into tears at the sight of my freakishly bald eye.

“I can hardly notice when you wear eye liner,” a close friend tried to mollify me.

“But I can’t wear eye liner all the time. What if I want to have a shower with someone?” I blubbered.

“You don’t even have a boyfriend.”

Yeah, thanks for that. After a couple of days of feeling sorry for myself, I decided that this must have happened to teach me a lesson. There was still clearly a certain amount of shallowness lurking within me. I still had a terrible time allowing others to see my imperfections. I still believed I had to look good to be liked, loved, and wanted. I thought I had become more enlightened but I still had a way to go. I promised to never again complain about my short, straight lashes. I thanked my disappearing lashes for teaching me more about myself. And I felt grateful for what I had and also for what I didn’t have (alopecia or cancer, for example).

With every lesson learned, the universe will test you. Which brings me to today. I had a couple of hours off before work, so I borrowed my aunt’s car and drove out to the plains of the Curragh. I felt good about how I was dealing with things and interacting with life. I marvelled at the blue blue sky, lifted my face to the sun, observed the grazing sheep, photographed the trees, and lost myself in the music pounding from my iPod. Until I realised I’d lost the key to my aunt’s car.

I flew straight from the present moment into a tornado of panic, worry, self-flagellation, and an endless string of curse words. I was propelled into a near future where I was walking the streets, freezing and starving and in desperate need of a shower. I no longer noticed the sun, sky, trees or sheep. And my music annoyed me so much that I had to switch it off.

All I had on me was a camera, an iPod, and a hankie. And the Curragh was unusually devoid of people. My options were to wave my hankie in the air, while taking multiple photographs with the flash on, and blasting The Beatles’ “Help” on full volume. Or I could retrace my steps as best as I could remember.

Unfortunately, I was searching for a single black key that happened to look very much like the sheep droppings that carpeted the vast plains of the Curragh. I eventually came across a chap in army attire, who told me he wasn’t allowed carry a mobile phone. I just had to laugh.

So, armed with my sense of humour, the seeds of a lesson that had to be watered, and the makings of a relatively humorous and thought-provoking blog post, I made my way back to Newbridge town. My aunt wasn’t at home so I called into her neighbour, a woman I had done a course with about a year ago. What was it her name was? Maureen? Unexpectedly, a strange man answered the door. He looked red-faced and hostile. I was thrown.

“Is Maureen there?”

“Maureen who?”

“That might not even be her name. I took the car. It’s not mine. The key’s in the Curragh. There’s so much sheep poo…” I babbled.

“Who are you looking for?” Silence. “Do you have her name? What’s her number?” Eh… “What do you want?” Oh God! “Do you want to use my phone to call this Maureen character?”

“Yes!” I finally managed to splutter.

“Okay, come in. My wife Pauline will be down in a minute.”

“Pauline!” I shrieked. “That’s her name! I’m Sharon,” I muttered, relieved that something was starting to make sense.

With that, Pauline sauntered in.

“Siobhán!” she called me. And her husband snorted.

And so, after telling my aunt the embarrassing news, I sat back with a cup of tea and a choccie biccie and listened to this couple’s tales of travel in South America. When my aunt returned and we rescued her car with the spare key, I enjoyed a long, hot shower.

The car key is still missing but I’ve gained some insight as to how I function. I’m happy with myself and with life so long as it’s running smoothly. It’s easy to be fully aware and appreciative of the present moment when everything is going the way you want. But when life happens, when you come across an unexpected fork in your journey, it is then that you need to take a moment to be still before deciding which route to take. The unexpected is what we call life. According to John Lennon:

“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”

So, the next time a volcanic ash cloud or snow storm disrupts your travel plans, a shocking event occurs, or you receive some bad news, you miss the bus, your friend cancels on you last-minute, your eye lashes fall out, or you lose your aunt’s car key in a sea of sheep poo, here’s what to do: