What I know about love and the surefire way to heal a wounded heart

This post was commissioned by the lovely Therese Schwenkler of the seriously-you-should-be-reading-this blog The Unlost who asked if I might be willing to write something about love and heartbreak for a blog post celebrating her one year "single-versary." She was hoping I would provide some wisdom and hope for women who are currently dealing with heartbreak and/or loneliness.

I welcomed such a noble (if not daunting) challenge and here is what I came up with...

Bob and I just celebrated nine years of marriage. And we've been together for twelve. I haven't had to go out on any first dates in a very long time. Mark Zuckerberg was 16 when Bob and I started dating, so thankfully Facebook wasn't a part of my single womanhood. I'm a thirty-six year old woman with a husband, a toddler and a Pug Dog... so how the hell can I relate to someone who is single and heartbroken?

Well, it's true. I can't completely relate to where you are right now. In this world. But I have been there. And what I can tell you is this... as much as it hurts, as much as it seems like you'll never be happy again, as much as you can't go a day without crying or at least trying not to cry, as much as you want to just shut yourself away from the world for a little while...

You alone are responsible for your own happiness.

I'll say it again. (This time with feeling.)

You alone are responsible for your own happiness.
This piece of advice was given to me by my stepmom Silvia following a particularly bad breakup when I was 24. I was having such a terrible time getting past being dumped. I couldn't go a day without wallowing in my misery. I felt cheated and lost and hopelessly sad. It was all very dramatic. One day on my way home from work, I was on the phone crying to my stepmom (who had been a wonderful listener during my weeks of wallowing) when she said this to me.
Our conversation went a little something like this (I reserve the right to paraphrase... a lot):

ME: It hurts so much. It's so unfair. (blubber blubber, sniff sniff) I don't know how I'll ever be happy again...

SILVIA: The thing is, you alone are responsible for your own happiness.

ME: But, you don't understaaaaaaaaand--

SILVIA: You alone are responsible for your own happiness. Not a guy. Not a relationship. Not your mom. Not your dad. Not your job. Not your circumstances. You.

Silence.

Silence.

ME: But--

SILVIA: You.

ME: Okay.

And it hit me. Not right away. But soon after that conversation I realized she was right. If I was responsible for my own happiness, then I could just be happy. Now. I didn't have to wait for anything to happen. I didn't have to wait for the pain to go away. I didn't have to wait for his new relationship to crash and burn in order to show him how amazing I was compared to her and how wrong he was for dumping me. No. In fact, I could just be happy. More than that. It was my JOB to be happy. No one else's job. MY job.

But how do you just be happy? You begin by getting that outside circumstances have absolutely nothing to do with your happiness. Then you start doing things that happy people do. At least that's what I did. I engaged in my life. As a single woman. I empowered myself. I determined to kick ass as a smart and single twenty-four year old. I signed up for a 500-mile bike ride for charity with my mom (it was my very smart and kick butt mom's idea.) And then I began training for that ride. Raising money and riding my bike all over Chicago for a cause far bigger than myself. This ride was the AIDS ride and raised money for people living with AIDS. Doing that made all the difference.

I was up to something and loving life. I realized that had I still been in that relationship, I probably never would have done this ride. It was such a fulfilling experience. And it completely had me get how powerful those words "You alone are responsible for your own happiness" really are.

The best part of the story comes now.

I met my husband training for that ride.

Our first date was the ride itself. 500 miles over six days from Minneapolis to Chicago. We fell in love in bike shorts and helmets, pedaling up steep hills, in wind and rain, through knee pain and sore butts.

I was never one to believe in love at first sight, but by the end of that ride I knew I would spend the rest of my life with him. That ride has been a metaphor for our life together. Ups and downs, pain and tears.

Love never gets easy. The most rewarding relationships are hard fought. What I've learned from our 12-year-relationship (that has been far from perfect, by the way) is that love isn't saying yes once and hoping it lasts. It's saying yes over and over and over again and especially when everything seems impossible. Saying yes in the good times and especially the bad. That's love. That's our love. We just keep doing it.

Throughout our marriage, Silvia's advice has come to mind many times over. "You alone are responsible for your own happiness." Not anyone else. Not ever. Not only when you're single, but also when you're in a committed relationship. And especially when you're married. Trust me. I've tried to make Bob responsible for my happiness. It does not work. So, please don't even try it. You can outsource a lot of things these days, but not your happiness. Why would you want to?

So, I guess that's my advice for anyone who is brokenhearted and/or lonely.

Make being happy your new occupation. 

Go out and surprise yourself with how awesome and amazing you are. Do a bike ride for charity. Sign up for a 3-Day Breast Cancer Walk. Raise money for an important cause close to your heart. Learn to play the saxophone. Take a tap dancing class. Volunteer at your local shelter. Deliver meals on wheels. Write that novel you've always dreamed of writing. Be someone who inspires happiness in others.

Be. Happy. Now. Yes. Right now. You deserve it.

Thanks, Therese for inviting me to write this post. It had me realize that I write way more about foreclosure and debt than I do about love. I've been neglecting the LOVE part of this blog. No more.

Now that you've read this, it would be so great if you would comment below with your advice to the lonely and temporarily brokenhearted.

And DEFINITELY go read the inspiration for this post- Therese's one-year single-versary blog post about love:

Rewriting the Great Love Stories of Our Time - The Unlost

Check out the other wise women contributing posts to The Unlost's post on love:

The Road to Transformation - Further Bound

Guest Post, The Unlost: Stories of Our Time - [According to Aletheia]

Later today there will be another related post up on Expat at Home.

P.S. If you liked this post, please share it. You know what to do. Danke!

Get your FREE copy of Love in the Time of Foreclosure today - one day only!

 Happy Valentine's Day, LITTOF readers!

My Valentine's Day gift from Bob was a Dunkin' Donuts coffee delivered to me in bed this morning. And my gift to you is a copy of my eBook, Love in the Time of Foreclosure.

Yes. That's FREE. For just one day.

If you haven't read it yet, why not take a chance today. At least load it up on your new eReader.

Dick Gordon of The Story with Dick Gordon called it
“A genuine human adventure.”


Sara Clemence (co-founder of RecessionWire.com) said: “There are life lessons in here for all of us.”

Janelle Brown (author of “This is Where We Live”) said: “Walker’s personal real estate horror story is wrenching and emotionally honest, as she explores the impact of home ownership on relationships, dreams, and self-identity.”

And a woman in my mom’s book club said that Love in the Time of Foreclosure is “Enchanting and addictive.”

Enchanting and addictive!

So, what are you waiting for? Get your free Love in the Time of Foreclosure today.

How?

Go to my publisher's site - Outpost19 - look at the left column and scroll down until you see this:

Outpost19 offers
epub versions for
non-Kindle devices
and apps:






Click on the "Outpost19" icon to download your free non-Kindle version of the book. When you get to checkout, enter the code "LOVE."

Happy Valentine's Day.

And enjoy!

P.S. We need your help to spread the love today. Please help us by sharing this blog post on Facebook, Twitter or wherever you hang out. For your convenience, you can just click the social media share buttons to the bottom or the left of this post. Thank you!

P.S.S. This special is for a non-Kindle version of the book. That means you won't be able to read this version on your Kindle, but you'll be able to read it anywhere else. Computer, iPad, etc. It's an .epub doc. If you have any questions about this, please leave them in the comments so that others who have the same question can see the answer. Thank you!

like this heart? sara jensen designed it.

Pledge to Love

I'm in the midst of getting my book ready for publication, but I just had to take a break from writing the book to blog about this new report that was just published by the National Bureau for Economic Research.

The report, written by economists Janet Currie and Erdal Tekin, is titled:

Is the Foreclosure Crisis Making Us Sick?

The answer should come as no surprise to anyone who has been or is currently in foreclosure.

The answer is, yes. Yes. The foreclosure crisis is making us sick.

Currie and Tekin found that an increase in the number of foreclosures in a particular zip code correlates to an increase in the number of anxiety and suicide related hospital visits. A Time story on the study explains Currie and Tekin's findings:

"...for every increase of 100 foreclosures in a zip code, there’s a corresponding rise in health issues for people in the normally healthy age group of 20 to 49: an 8.1% increase in diabetes, 7.2% more ER visits and hospitalizations for hypertension, and 12% more visits to doctors related to anxiety. A rise in foreclosures was also associated with a 39% increase in trips to the hospital related to suicide attempts."

I get it. I do. But you know what?

It doesn't have to be this way.

I'll say it again.

It does not have to be this way.
 
Maybe you're in foreclosure now as you read this. You might be feeling that tightening in your chest. The stress makes it hard for you to breathe. The questions that turn like a knife in your stomach:

How will we get out of this? Where will we live? How will I provide for my family? Will we ever bounce back?

They weigh so heavily. They might be making it hard for you to get out of bed. Hard to be a normal person.

I get it. Completely.

You might be a parent to someone who is going through foreclosure. A friend. A neighbor. You're affected by it too. Especially if you're a parent. I know how hard our foreclosure was on my mom. She worried for us. So much. Wanting nothing but love, happiness and prosperity for her daughter.

You might be feeling the same way as my mom.

The most difficult aspect is the feeling that there is nothing you can do.

But, you know what? No matter how bad it is, it only feels like there's nothing you can do.

But there is something huge you can start doing now. You can take care of you. Take care of each other. Nurture yourself through this awful time. Love. Commit to rising above the hardship. Commit to turning your foreclosure story into a triumph over adversity story worthy of a Hollywood epic picture.

And this is why I invite you to take the Love in the Time of Foreclosure Pledge.

The Love in the Time of Foreclosure Pledge

I, insert your name here, pledge:

To not allow this foreclosure to get the best of me.
I will mine this financial crisis for every opportunity.
I will stay in communication with my family and friends.
I will stay in communication with the bank and my creditors.
I will learn every lesson there is to be learned from this.
I will live in the moment.
I will ask for and accept help.
I will take time every day to connect with the people in my life.
I will take time every day to do something that makes me happy.
I will empower myself to be happy without the need to spend money.
I will continue to live my life productively and responsibly.
I will acknowledge my fear and act in the face of it.
I pledge to Love. To love others, to love myself and to love my life...

...in the time of foreclosure
...in the time of hardship of any kind

This pledge made the difference for us.

We did not end up in the ER. We actually flourished as human beings. We grew closer as a married couple. We wound up living a huge adventure on a beautiful island that gave us our son. And it is all because we pledged this to each other. This pledge, that we took very seriously, got us through foreclosure and then some.

We invite you to take the pledge today.

Whether you are in foreclosure, facing foreclosure or just fearing foreclosure.

In fact, it can be applied to any kind of crisis or hardship.

We invite you to please take the pledge and declare it here in the comments below.

Making it public does make a difference. Don't keep this to yourself. I know the inclination is to hide your problems. But that doesn't work. That only makes you feel more isolated.

The more public you make your pledge, the more likely you are to keep it. Share it on your Facebook page. Share it in conversation with your friends and family. Just share it.

And please pass it along. Let's make an impact here. Let's end this cycle of foreclosure-related sickness. Let's make this a movement. 

We can make a difference. For anyone feeling alone in their financial problems. Ashamed. Fearful. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Please take this pledge and join us in creating your own triumph over adversity story.

Okay, I think you get where I stand.

Now it's your turn.

Declare your pledge below in the comment section. It can be as simple as this:

I, Steph Walker, pledge to love in the time of foreclosure.

Or even more simple: I pledge to love!

If you're as passionate about this as I am, please help spread this love. Send it to anyone you know who is in financial distress. Anyone who is facing hardship in their lives. Please invite them to join you in taking the pledge.

Together we can make a difference!

This time last year

I'm nursing Malcolm before his bedtime when Bob puts on Malcolm's lullabies and I start crying.

The music takes me back to our bedroom on the island.

To the first few days of Malcolm's life.

The memories squeeze my heart. I ache for that time. Such joy. Did it really happen?

The Putumayo music carries my thoughts further back.

To Malcolm in my womb.

Us on the island.

This time last year.

I looked like this:

And we lived here:

And it was an amazing time.

I loved being pregnant.

I loved living on the island.

And now I love this time with Malcolm actually here in our lives. Here. Now.

 So why am I crying?

Because I'll never have those first moments with Malcolm ever again.

Each day he grows more and more independent. 

He crawls now.

This time last year he was in my womb. Kicking me from the inside. And now he crawls away, squealing with glee. Playing chase.

I'll never be pregnant on an island with Malcolm ever again.

But I'll never have THIS time with him ever again, either.

So I cry.

Because I'm so grateful to have had such an amazing experience.

And I cry because it's gone.

I cry because I don't want to miss anything.

I cry because I know I will.

I cry because it's inevitable.

Malcolm will grow up.

I will look back on today, nursing him in our bedroom in this apartment in Chicago and I will miss today.

I will long for it.

I will try to put myself back in this moment- body and soul.

And I will fall short. And cry.

It's inevitable. It's life. This is how it is.

I cry because it's all too good.

My love for my son, for my family, for life is just too great to contain in a straight face.

Sometimes, like tonight,  it needs to escape. In big, sloppy tears.

This time last year was the best time of my life... thus far.

And this time this year. Now. Is the best time of my life... thus far.

Because of you.

Malcolm James Walker.

I love...

I shot this video last night on my iPhone. Pablo was begging for scraps at the dinner table and Malcolm was just going gaga over his Pug noises. The sound of Malcolm laughing is my favorite sound in the universe.

Malcolm is 7 1/2 months already, learning to crawl (he's very good at scooting backwards) and teething (he's got two sharp little baby teeth already.)

I hope you enjoy our little man's laughter!

How to Be Happy. Now.

I have a confession to make.

Lately, I've been waiting for all of this to just be over and forgetting to be happy.

My thoughts have looked like this:

-Once this is all over, we'll be happy.
-I just want this to be done.
-I can't take it anymore.
-We should never have bought this house.
-Why was I so stupid?
-I'm just so tired of all of this.
-I just need to save us to make it all better.
-Why has everything gone wrong?!
-We just need to get out of here.
-Once we get out of here, go back to Chicago for a respite, regroup, get back on our feet, everything will be fine.

But what about now? This moment?

These thoughts make me pretty miserable. They're anxiety-causing. They're trouble!

As soon as I dwell on the past and my mistakes, I'm immediately suffering. As soon as I focus on just getting out of this and on with my life, I'm missing my life.

We've been going through this for 9 months, right? What if for 9 months all I thought was, "Everything will be fine once this is over." Well, I would have missed 9 months of life... of living, discovering and creating. I would have sat around waiting for it to be over and might possibly have had a nervous breakdown.

Waiting for it to be over = missing out on life

And that is not okay with me.

When this all began, we agreed to stay 'in the moment,' and see the opportunity in every moment. To get that being happy has nothing to do with the circumstances of your life. If money can't make you happy, then lack of money can't make you sad. Right? Right!

We've learned so much along the way. The biggest triumph for me is really getting that we don't need money and stuff to make us happy. To be complete. We just need each other and a good dose of perspective. Love. And each other. Sharing our fears and hopes, connecting and rising above the morass.

I have to say, this blog keeps me honest. When I hear myself complain or lament our situation, it doesn't take long for me to think:

Hey! You started this blog for a reason. You're committed to being happy in the moment. Remember? In the now. In foreclosure. In default. In debt. Happy. In limbo and in love. In whatever. That's your commitment. That's what you write about. And you know being happy is just as possible as being miserable. You know this. So stop this nasty downward spiral and go do something productive. Give Bob a kiss. Pet the dog. Clean the kitchen. Sit in the sun for a minute. Write a blog post. Call a friend just to say hi. Whatever, but just be happy. Now.

Yesterday Good Karma Housekeeping blogged about "Love in the Time of Foreclosure" and referenced this wonderful quote from Michael J. Fox who said:

“Happiness grows in direct proportion to your acceptance and inverse proportion to your expectations. This is what I have today . . . I don’t have a choice about this, but I have a million other choices. And if I choose well, I’m going to be a happy person.”

I so agree. There's so much that is out of our control, but our happiness is not. It's one thing that is most definitely within our control. Like Michael J. Fox, I believe it is a choice. And I'm choosing happiness.

Now if you'd excuse me, I have a husband to kiss, a dog to pet, a kitchen to clean, possessions to sell, a friend to call just to say hi and sunshine to enjoy...

A QUESTION ON HAPPINESS:

Do you ever intervene in your unhappy thoughts? If so, what do you do to re-presence yourself to happiness?

The Opposite of LOVE in the Time of Foreclosure

1. VANDALISM in the Time of Foreclosure

ONCE UPON A TIME there were 3 red-haired pigs and a big bad crazy homeowner who wanted to huff and puff and blow his house down because he was losing it to foreclosure and was very angry. So he huffed and he puffed and he locked the pigs in the house and let them wreak havoc.




The pigs were left without food or water for a week before the neighbors realized what was happening and called authorities. Luckily they survived, but they were dehydrated and I'm sure very, very scared. The house? Trashed. Which was the point. Apparently.

Man Uses Pigs to Trash Own House After Foreclosure - kgw.com

WHY?

Why destroy your house? Why do people do this? To express their anger and rage? I suppose. But it's so incredibly irrational. And as irrational and unproductive as it is, it happens a lot. So much, in fact, that last year banks were paying homeowners in Las Vegas to vacate without destroying the house. To deter, as stated in the Wall Street Journal article, "Home Rage":

Buyers' Revenge: Trash the House After Foreclosure - wsj.com

2. BOMB in the Time of Foreclosure

Yesterday a man in Riverside, CA was arrested for sending a message to the bank that repossessed his home in the form of fake pipe bombs.

(KTLA TV)

Riverside Man Allegedly Booby Traps Foreclosed Home - L.A. Now Blog

3. FRAUD in the Time of Foreclosure


(photo: Jerry McElroy/iStock)

This is a trend, in fact. There are enough people doing this to constitute a trend. Seriously. People actually think they can burn the house down, get the insurance money and get away with it. At least they're desperate enough to try.

Like this woman in Indiana who last year tried to pay her neighbor to help her burn down the house and make it look like a botched rape: CNN

Snyder allegedly offered to pay a neighbor $5,000 to help her burn down her house and make it look like a botched rape attempt - all in order to claim $80,000 in insurance money. Snyder wanted the neighbor to bind her hands in duct tape, write "whore" on her shirt, and then help her escape once the blaze was set, the prosecutor says. The neighbor demurred, instead reporting Snyder to police.

There is another option. What is it? Yes, Love.
Love conquers all, don't you know? Even foreclosure.

Between a Marriage and a House

In my last post I wrote about the facts and how we are not allowing this foreclosure to define us. It's not easy to explain exactly how we're able to do that, but here's another attempt. How are we able to be in foreclosure and still happier than we've ever been?

Perspective. It's all about perspective. Point of view, outlook, framing. When you're faced with losing everything, things drop like a thud in the pit of your stomach into... perspective. So here it is. The answer. Here we go. The single most powerful reason we've been able to keep this whole mess in perspective is because a year and a half ago we came very close to losing something much more valuable than a house: our marriage.

The second half of 2007 was the most terrifying time in my life. Much more so than now. We were coming up on our five year wedding anniversary when out of the blue everything came crashing down. Our marriage and everything we'd built together was suddenly filled with cracks and holes. Like a shin bone that had endured pounding on pavement for far too long... that suddenly cracks. Shin splints untreated turn into stress fractures. Our marriage was like that. Though we'd only been married for just under five years, we'd been together for nine. Far too many aches and pains had gone ignored.

I will never forget the day it began. I'll never forget the moment our marriage disappeared from beneath my feet and I was left without a place to stand. I'll never forget what it felt like to look into my husband's eyes and feel like I might actually lose my home. Our marriage was my home.

We had a lot to figure out. A world between us to understand. So much to forgive. We reached out immediately to our families and began couples counseling. We didn't start this marriage alone- it began before one hundred and twenty five of our closest friends and family- and we wouldn't let it end alone. We were determined to not let it end at all. And we knew we needed support.

What we discovered in turning to our friends and families was unconditional love and support. They had faith in us. They were on our side. They believed we had all the love and commitment required to carry us through the darkest time I never expected to experience. Other people went through this, not us. But there we were. Going through it. But not alone.

If I sit and think back to those days, I can still summon the physical experience. What it felt like. The nausea, the sadness brimming just behind my eyes ready to transform into salty, burning tears at a moment's notice, the exhaustion, the puffy skin around my eyes, the anxiety pressing on my lungs making a single breath hard to take...

We met on a long distance bike ride for charity. The AIDS Ride from Minneapolis to Chicago. 500 miles. 6 days. Non-stop togetherness up long hills, down steep ones, pedaling through endless stretches of cornfields... pushing ourselves for something much bigger than the two of us. We knew we were made of the strong stuff. We were up for big challenges. I was good climbing, he was good at enduring. Together we got each other through. And in the end we knew we were meant for each other.

The ride has always been a metaphor for our life together. This period was the longest, hottest day of the ride. The day where your knee threatens to blow at any second and your lungs burn. Where everything chafes and all you see is endless road ahead. No rest in sight. No camp. No water. Just pain. And misery. You question: Why did I ever agree to this?! 500 miles?! Am I insane? And then he rides up beside you and says: "We'll ride together." And that's all it takes. The road is still endless, the humidity still suffocating, the butt still numb... but as long as you're together, nothing else matters. You ride together and you remind each other that you're not riding alone. You're riding for all those people that donated to the cause, that couldn't ride themselves, all those people who benefit from the ride... and that helps. That carries you to camp. To rest. To water.

Just as that was true for us in the beginning on that ride that brought us together, so it was true in the darkest moment of our marriage. We were carried through this time by the support and love from our family, friends and community. Three days a week in counseling soon became two... then one... then once every other week. We worked through a lifetime of 'junk.' We discovered so much about each other and ourselves. We were there for ourselves as much as each other. We knew that if we really dug in and were vulnerable and peeled back every single possible layer that we would have the marriage we always wanted. What began as the darkest moment in my life turned into a huge possibility. An opportunity to create the marriage of our dreams.

I do remember very clearly saying to my mom (through tears): "As awful as this is, I have this feeling it could be the best thing for our marriage." And I was right. It was an intensely challenging (such an understatement) time for us, and we're stronger than before having gone through it. Our marriage is the marriage of our dreams. Every day we look at each other knowing what we almost lost and grateful for having had the courage to save it.

A moment that is now etched into my bones happened on one of the 'bad days'. We were at a point where neither of us had the energy to keep fighting. We were just standing there in our house. Nowhere to go. Nothing left to say. I looked around at our newly and beautifully renovated home that took so much of our time, energy and money. I looked out at the wrap around view of the San Gabriel Mountains, looked at Bob and said: "I don't care about any of this. The kitchen, the house, the view.... none of it matters. It can all go away. I'd give it all up as long as I could just have you! Us- together and happy." And I meant it. What does a house matter when you're faced with losing your home? My marriage, as I said, was my home. I've thought about that moment a lot because the irony is just too good to ignore. As though the Universe was listening and said, "Yeah, so you'd give it up? Okay, we'll see." And here we are.

Would I give it up? For my marriage? Hell, yes. A house isn't a home without love. And none of this matters without each other.

The most frequently uttered cliche between us is: "At least we have each other." Never before have those words rung so true.