Since we went skiing this past weekend for the first time all year, and since we just switched to Daylight Savings Time, which always reminds me of spring, I thought I would do some tributes to winter (actually, this may be my first one). I'm calling this one, "Show Me the Hot Toddy and Fireplace."
"Miranda, only you and I can ever really know what happened between you and I." Steve
"Don't listen to me. I have no idea what's right for you and Big." Miranda to Carrie
So, this is the last episode of season three. It deals with men and women and how we obsess over our past relationship failures. Miranda and Carrie get in a big fight over Carrie accepting a lunch date with recently-divorced Big. Miranda doesn't want her to get hurt, but Carrie thinks she's being judgmental. The two make up. Carrie meets Big, and it goes well (if you call falling in a pond together going well). The two realize this may be the start of a great friendship. Newly-separated Charlotte can't help thinking of Trey and their marriage. Trey can't either, and stops by for sex that actually happens (a first). The two discuss how they maybe married too fast and for the wrong reasons. Samantha fights with noisy transvestites on her street. She decides to call a truce by throwing a party and inviting them.
The message of this episode is priceless. I really don't have much to say besides that, except that I feel the need to write the message a thousand times so everyone (including me) will remember it: No one knows what goes on in a relationship besides the two people who are in it. No one knows what goes on in a relationship besides the two people who are in it. No one knows what goes on in a relationship besides the two people who are in it. Okay, I'm done.
We all think we know what's best for other people. I'm certainly guilty of this sometimes. When a sister or a friend calls and asks for love advice, I'm always ready with a judgment or saying or piece of wisdom I've probably read in a Glamour issues somewhere. I think it's good to give advice. We all need to hear it from time to time. If every time I went to someone in a crisis I heard, "I don't know; do what you think is right," I would feel like shooting myself. No, I'm an opinionated gal, and I appreciate opinions. I probably couldn't write if I didn't.
That said, there is a place in decision-making where other people's opinions don't mean jack. I didn't really understand this until the last couple of years. Before that, anytime I had a problem in a relationship, I went to someone for advice that I thought I had to take. I would call my mother or a friend or try to research it online. Once, I even called in on a radio show.
When I canceled my wedding six years ago, it was the first time I went against what other people thought was good for me, and it nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought I was disappointing everyone, and I think I was as worried about that as I was about how I felt about Arnold. I didn't realize that listening to my opinion was something I should have done two years earlier. That experience taught me that maybe I could make my own decisions.
Three years later, I went to Peru against all of my loved ones' best judgment. Everyone knew Billy was an alcoholic and just an all-around not-very-nice guy. They knew he had a daughter with a woman he no longer talked to. They knew for obvious reasons that he was the kind of guy to sleep with a drunk foreigner with a boyfriend (not that I don't share half of the guilt). They knew he was an artist with no income.
During the weeks I was preparing to move to Peru, my family and friends nearly disowned me. One of my good friends, who had seen me go through two breakups already, said she didn't approve and didn't want to hear anything about it. My sisters would call each other while I was with one of them and talk in code, saying things like, "Oh, um, I'll need to talk about that with you later." One of my sisters, who had kissed and hung out with Billy herself and thus knew him pretty well, wouldn't talk to me about it at all. To this day, I don't if she was more angry at me for starting something with him or scared for me because of the kind of guy he was. My mother just said she would come (alone) to the wedding if there ever was one. My dad stayed quiet, except for one outburst about how financially irresponsible I was being (he was right). When I left for the airport, he just said, "I love you. Guard your heart."
Somehow, I still thought it was a good idea to go. Actually, if I'm honest, I, too, thought it was probably a train wreck waiting to happen, but I felt it was important to go. There was something about it all that no one else could understand, and going was something I needed to do alone. Of course, everyone was right about the outcome, but it still wouldn't have been right to listen to them and not go. Those seven months were very likely the most important of my life, just not for the reason (love) I first predicted. I learned more about myself from that relationship, the breakup, the time on my own, and working and living in a foreign country than from any other one event in my life. And no one else can ever understand that the way I do. Not really.
Now, I really don't ask for love advice. I complain, and sometimes if I'm really stumped, I put my predicament out there. It's important to hear what people have to say; after all, you can't learn everything the hard way, and sometimes it just helps to hear another person's calm voice. But, in the end, I don't take people's advice about love as something I need to follow or even listen too closely too, for the simple reason that it's me who decides. Only I can. You have to trust yourself above anyone else, and only you know what goes on between you and your partner. Only you know what's good for you.
I hope you'll be back. I will.
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