He’s the Sweetest. Period.

Over the weekend, I agreed to go out to dinner with an Army Chaplain who is stationed at a fort near my city. When he initially asked me out, I threw up all kind of barriers, trying to make myself sound as undesirable as possible.

I am a wounded animal, desperately trying to give myself time to heal. I thrash about any time someone gets close, seeking to keep away potential suitors, but I am bleeding out in the process.

When Steve expressed his interest in me, I immediately told him about my emotional baggage and how I think maybe I’m due for a season of singleness. I made every effort to push him away and ensure his affection for me would subside.

“If you’re interested in me,” I told him, “Be my friend. Pray about us. I will have dinner with you, but I make no promises beyond that.” So Steve drove three hours to take me out to dinner.

I quickly discovered that Steve is sweet and kind, decisive and confident, perceptive and attentive. He has a great smile and deep laugh lines around his eyes. He loves to laugh. And listen. And encourage.

I let Steve hold my hand to pray over our dinner, and by the end of the evening, he had pulled me into his lap. He has a gentle spirit, and I found him likable and easy to trust – good character qualities for an Army Chaplain. “And for a boyfriend,” I thought absently.

Near the end of the evening, I got up from his lap and, at the same instant, we saw the blood on his khaki shorts. My blood. From my period. It had overflowed, running through my shorts and onto his. And I was absolutely mortified.

Alternating between stuttering apologies and hiding my face behind my hands, I felt a flush creep into my cheeks. With a hint of sardonic humor, I thought to myself, “Well, I don’t have to worry about trying to push him away anymore!”

But Steve didn’t react the way I expected. He sat calmly, looking up at me with surprise. “Why are you so upset? It’s okay. I’ve had blood on me before.” He’s been deployed to Afghanistan and has done medical training, too. “But it’s period blood,” I thought. “Guys freak out about that.”

But Steve didn’t freak out. In fact, he soothed and calmed me as I had a meltdown, living every girl’s worst nightmare. I hadn’t just bled through my shorts. I bled onto his shorts! Is there anything more horrifying?!

Ironically, we’d talked about “most embarrassing moments” earlier in the evening. After Steve reassured me over and over that he was honestly okay and not weirded out, I quipped, “Well, I guess now I have a new ‘most embarrassing moment’!” He laughed, and I had the pleasure of seeing those deep laugh lines crinkle the corners of his eyes again.

Steve continued to sit calmly on the couch – covered in my blood – while I went to clean myself up. He insisted that I use the bathroom first. Only after I was changed did Steve put on the baggy athletic shorts I offered him so that I could wash his khakis for him to wear home.

I was stunned by Steve’s poise and astounded by his kindness. Steve has a maturity and emotional fortitude I haven’t seen in many of the men I’ve dated. I still think I should consider taking some serious time away from dating, but now I know at least one Army Chaplain who is fervently praying for me to be whole, healed and ready to date again.

Authentically Aurora

Self Discovery

I’ve been on a journey of self discovery for a couple of decades now. It’s a life-long process and one I’ve found that I enjoy immensely.

I recently met with a Life Coach named Lisa who specializes in leadership development, and she challenged my perception that I am an INTJ. Although a person’s Myers-Briggs personality type supposedly doesn’t change over time, Lisa pointed out that we may or may not develop according to our natural preferences based on how we were raised. We learn adaptive behaviors according to our environment and may forsake our core preferences.

Although plenty of people have claimed I have no heart or feelings, Lisa believes I may actually be an INFJ – someone who makes decisions based on emotions and how people would be affected. “INFJs find it easy to make connections with others, and have a talent for warm, sensitive language, speaking in human terms, rather than with pure logic and fact.” She thinks I could naturally be an INFJ at my core who developed coping mechanisms as an INTJ due to my military upbringing and chosen career path of engineering.

Lisa wrote to me last week:

You are very quick to make distinctions and identify aspects of yourself. I am leaning with the possibility that you are most naturally INTJ, with a keen self-awareness that there’s value for you to develop your ‘F’ side…  If NT is your dominant temperament, you are waaayy ahead of the curve compared to other NTs. Most of my clients are NT, and they don’t appreciate this until they’re well into their late 40s and early 50s… Give yourself some bonus points for your high level of self-awareness and your commitment to be the best you can be.

Lisa also partners with another woman who does Brain Dominance assessments, examining whether we are more Right-brained or Left-brained, as well as differentiating between Frontal and Basal quadrants. Her assessment of me:

Although I believe your natural preference is most likely Frontal Right [which is the pattern of an artist]… you are quite capable in all of the four thinking styles – unusual, especially for someone your age.

Nice to have it confirmed that I don’t fit the mold… and also that my decision to switch careers is well founded, based on my potentially suppressed natural preferences and talents. I have the heart of an artist and the brain of an engineer – a double-edged sword, to be sure.

Authentically Aurora

Finding Flynn – Part III

On Sunday morning, the last day of our camping trip, Flynn and I scrubbed pots and pans together while the rest of the group took down tents, gathered trash bags and generally packed up the campsite.

In making conversation, Flynn asked me where I work. When I named the major oil company where I’ve been employed for the past five years, his hands stilled, and he stared at me.

“What?” I asked, dumbfounded by his intent expression.

“Which campus do you work at?”

There are four locations in our city. “The West campus,” I answered cautiously, wondering why he asked but laughing internally at the irony I figured was about to be revealed.

“I’m in Building E. The ninth floor,” he told me, still looking astonished.

I smiled. “I’m in Building F. The fifth floor.”

We stared at each other for a moment and then started laughing. We went the entire weekend without realizing that we work in office buildings next to each other on the same corporate campus!

When I got home that night, I told myself not to get my hopes up. I told myself not to manipulate the situation. I know Flynn’s last name, and I could easily look him up in our global address book or the office instant messaging system. He actually needs help from my department for a project he’s working on, so I have a legitimate business reason to reach out to him. But I told myself to be good. Flynn already has a girlfriend.

Tuesday was Veteran’s Day, and our office was having a special event to honor the occasion. It involved brunch with a flag ceremony and keynote speaker, and – coming from a military family and having tremendous respect for our veterans – I planned to attend. It might have crossed my mind that a certain former Army Ranger might also be in attendance. But I might also have chided myself for thinking such a thing. And then reminded myself that there are thousands of people on our campus, and surely hundreds would be in attendance. There was no way Flynn and I would run into each other.

Nevertheless, I might possibly perhaps have made a special effort to look extra nice that morning, and I might possibly perhaps have experienced mild or not-so-mild road rage at the mind-blowing amount of traffic on the roads that morning keeping me from getting to the event on time.

When I finally pulled into a parking space, it was already 8:10 a.m., and the event had started at 8:00. It being a military event, I wasn’t sure if I should still bother trying to make it, since punctuality is key in military circles, and lack of punctuality is a sign of disrespect. So I was power walking through the garage toward the elevators, trying to make up my mind about whether or not I should make an appearance, when I heard a deep masculine voice call out, “Aurora!”

A black pickup truck had just rolled past me with the windows down and an elbow hanging out of the driver side window. The driver stopped suddenly, and a head appeared above the elbow and turned to look back at me. Flynn.

He smiled and waved. I couldn’t help but smile back. I waited for him to park; then we walked toward the main campus together in amiable companionship. “I’m surprised you recognized me with makeup on!” I joked with a wink. When we parted ways, Flynn asked me what time I normally eat lunch and suggested that we look for each other in the cafeteria.

I had been rushing to the event in the hopes of seeing him, but I was running late due to traffic, and it turned out that very traffic I had been cursing resulted in my arriving at the same time as Flynn. On the same floor. Of the same one of our campus’s five parking garages.

Coincidence? I think not.

Authentically Aurora

Finding Flynn – Part II

Sitting around the campfire, I was soon introduced to the young, curly haired girl who was so possessive of Flynn. Her name is Patricia, and she and Flynn have been dating for eight months. I’m not a boyfriend stealer, so I made a conscious decision to keep my distance from him, although that was difficult in a group of just twelve people sharing a common campsite.

As women, when we become jealous of other women, we have a tendency to dehumanize them so that we are better able to focus on their flaws. Beth Moore writes in her book “So Long, Insecurity” (which I highly recommend):

“In order to nurse a rival mentality, we… view our competitor through a one-dimensional lens. She is not a person. She is a contender… It’s easier to despise her that way. If she got the promotion we sought, she’s the embodiment of selfish ambition… If she’s more attractive than we feel, she’s only skin deep. We can’t fathom that she’s ever been betrayed or brokenhearted… When we go against the grain of our human nature and determine to personalize someone instead, rivalry loses its bedding ground.”

So I decided to try to get to know Patricia in order to personalize her and stop viewing her as a rival. After all, she already has the guy. But Patricia didn’t seem very interested in getting to know me. In fact, she acted standoffish toward everyone except Flynn. It would seem that Patricia was only there for her boyfriend; not to make other friends.

Flynn had put together a Survivor role playing game where we were divided into three teams and each given different supplies. We had to make judgement calls as a team on whether we were going to stay at our crash site or try to walk to civilization. Flynn had planned for a real-world element as well, in which – for example – we had to shoot a tangible bow and arrow set to determine if we successfully hunted down food for that day.

I am not-so-secretly a sci-fi geek and lover of RPGs and strategy games in general (hello! INTJ = master strategist!), so I got really into the game. In fact, my team won. But 25-year-old Patricia spent the entire game sequence complaining about how boring her boyfriend’s game was and how unrealistic his survival scenarios were.

Later, when Flynn tried to stoke the campfire and stirred up mostly smoke due to the recent rain, Patricia criticized him, “Come on, I thought you were an Army ranger.” Watching them together was painful, not because of my attraction to Flynn, but primarily because of how uncomfortable is it to observe a woman publicly ridicule her man.

Over the next 48 hours of the camping trip, Patricia frequently made comments alluding to her desire for Flynn to propose. In one instance, Flynn joked that she is expensive to date because she is always hungry. Patricia retorted, “Yeah, you buy me lots of food, but what I’d really like is something sparkly.” She wiggled the fingers of her left hand.

Later, Flynn told the group about his family in Louisiana (why am I always attracted to Louisiana boys?!) and how he wished he had family locally. Patricia jumped in, “You could have a great set of in-laws in town any time you wanted to seal the deal.” Everyone around the campfire discretely raised their eyebrows at one another.

Still later, when the group was talking about what each person does for a living, Patricia admitted that she’s unemployed and living with her parents. But she also said unashamedly that she’s not in a hurry to get a job since she probably wouldn’t need it for long anyway. She smiled coyly at Flynn, her 34-year-old mechanical engineer and sugar daddy. Gag me.

How to Lose a Guy in One Week

Day 1: Pick a man 9 years older and far more mature than you are. Display your immaturity at every possible opportunity.

Day 2: Make no effort at all to build relationships with any of his friends. Be clingy and obsessed with him. Have no identity of your own.

Day 3: Complain constantly. The more whining, the better.

Day 4: Make fun of his interests and hobbies. Insist that he stops all of his lame hobbies and picks up yours instead. Don’t compromise.

Day 5: Drain his bank account by making no effort to get a job and insisting that your parents are letting you stay at home, so he needs to cover all the rest of your expenses. State openly that you have no intention of contributing financially to the relationship, either now or in the future; either in tangible dollars or sweat equity.

Day 6: Disrespect him publicly, questioning his masculinity and capability, especially in front of his friends.

Day 7: Make frequent mention of your family, specifically to cite them as his future in-laws. Be sure to couple this with pointed comments about wanting and expecting an engagement ring soon. The pushier, the better.

With this winning combination, you too can Lose a Guy in One Week!

Authentically Aurora

Finding Flynn – Part I

I went on a camping trip this past weekend. The weather was perfect – 60s and 70s – and I went almost exclusively with complete strangers, which was also perfect (strangers have no expectations about who I am or how I should act, so I often – especially of late – feel freer to be myself with strangers than friends).

I ran into an old acquaintance at a ministry banquet last week, and he invited me to his church’s camping trip for their “Singles” Sunday school class. As a part of my self-imposed goal to attend at least one social event per week, I agreed to go. So on Friday I was assigned to a carpool group, showed up at the agreed-upon apartment at the agreed-upon time of 5:30 pm and was still standing in the parking lot at 6:30 pm (a display of the typical lack of punctuality demonstrated by singles of “Generation Me”). Nevertheless, we had an enjoyable drive into the countryside as I exchanged witty banter with the two nerds I found myself wedged between in the back seat of an ancient Toyota Corolla (and I use the term “nerds” affectionately).

Our carpool group eventually made it out to the campsite around 8:30 pm and found the rest of our group already gathered around a roaring campfire. Insight into my brain: I wish I didn’t do this, but if I’m honest with myself, in my singleness I tend to scan new groups of people for their most eligible bachelor. In this instance, he wasn’t hard to find.

Angular features highlighted by the flickering fire, his defined jawline was rimmed with a dark five o’clock shadow. His waterfall haircut grazed his forehead as he spoke with animation, and he radiated an aura of leadership. As conversaion progressed, I discovered that he was the group’s bible study leader and had a playful demeanor with a dry sense of humor.

He reminded me a lot of Flynn Rider, the male protagonist in “Tangled” and my favorite Disney prince. Flynn is a dashing, swashbuckling hero with a sense of adventure and flair for the sarcastic. Not everyone agrees with me, but I peg Flynn for an ENFP. For those of you not familiar with Myers Briggs, the ENFP is an extroverted, intuitive personality type who likes flexibility and makes decisions based on gut feelings or emotions. I personally am an INTJ. That means that I recharge by being alone, am intuitive, enjoy structure and am a rational decision maker.

The ENFP/INTJ combination is said to be one of the most perfect personality matches from a romantic standpoint. Some of the most legendary love stories are between an ENFP and INTJ because the playfulness of the ENFP balances the intensity of the INTJ. Think Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy of “Pride and Prejudice.” Epic.

In addition to being a ridiculously attractive leader of men, my real life Flynn is also a 34-year-old mechanical engineer and former Army Ranger who plays acoustic guitar. At first glance, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Unfortunately, just as I asked myself, “Is this guy for real?”, I discovered that yes, he is, but so was the young, curly haired girl who pranced out of her tent, plopped down in his lap and wrapped her arms possessively around his neck.

Figures.

Authentically Aurora