Trials and tribulations of me learning how to flirt Part 1 out of ??

Please don’t judge me!

As I mentioned in an earlier post, some friends have challenged me to start dating.  I’ve done the internet dating thing before, but in my 32 years of living I really haven’t done the bar/club scene except for one year in college.  So I figured, let me try something different as a thirty-something and meet guys in the traditional places.  Amongst my friends I can be the life of the party, but in group settings where there are lots of strangers, I am a wall flower.  So after a few times of going out and being invisible, it dawned on me…I’m going to have to flirt.  This is the story of my first night out “flirting” (if that’s what you want to call it).  I was inspired by a friend to be: outrageous!  And outrageous I was.

It was a Wednesday night in downtown Ft. Lauderdale, Florida and a group of girlfriends and I went out bar hopping.  I gave myself ample time for the outrageousness to build, so it wasn’t until the third bar that I attempted any flirting.  As a side note, I’m not a big drinker, so I was completely sober during the whole night.  And still managed to act a fool!

My girlfriends knew my mission of the night was to flirt with guys and one of my girlfriends, let’s call her “Suzy,” is a master flirter and promised to give me pointers throughout the night.  So we enter the third bar and I really don’t find many of the men attractive.  They’re all the standard meaty college-boy-grew-up-and-still-wears-baseball-caps-backwards type of crowd.  And then… there…across the bar I see HIM.  The only guy in the bar that doesn’t look like every other guy.  He has a mohawk and is tatted out.  I’m not always attracted to the bad boy look but I appreciated the fact that with him in this crowd, I knew I could look away for five minutes, find him again, and not confuse him with ten other guys.

So I turned to Suzy and told her I found a guy I want to flirt with.  She’s so sweet and willing to help, she immediately starts giving me pointers.  As she and I are coming up with a strategy, another one of my friends elbows me and whispers that he’s coming this way.  I look up and there he is!  It turns out one of his friends was just a few feet from us.  I panic!  And think to myself, if I don’t do it now I’m never going to do it.  What on earth does “it” mean? I had no idea, but we were all going to find out together.  Again, please don’t judge me.  I’m still learning.

I grab his arm and loudly declare, “You’re cute!”

It takes him a second to process, and he’s such a nice guy he thanks me and says this never happens to him.  And that I just made his night.

I go on and boldly ask, “You have a girlfriend?”

He says no.  I say, “Perfect!” and then finally ask his name.  But don’t ask me what his name is, the blood was rushing so loudly in my ears that as he and I are conversing I really don’t hear a word he’s saying.  I just keep smiling, nodding my head, and every once in a while punctuate the conversation with, “Oh wow!  That’s so cool!”  After about 5 minutes of crappy one-sided conversation, he finally exits to go meet his friends.  Without asking for my number.

I was crushed!  I had so valiantly braved new territory and was rejected.  I pouted for about five minutes.  Suzy consoled me, reminded me it was my first try and I’ll be ok.  And then I remembered I’m there to flirt not to pout.  And gave myself props for doing something “outrageous”, maybe more accurately “outrageously desperate”, but definitely something new and different which was the purpose of the night.  I cheer up and keep having a good time with my girlfriends.

About 20-30 minutes later a good looking guy, let’s call him “Ryan”, approached me and said he’s been admiring me all night long!  He and I talked and danced for a little while and then before my friends and I left, he asked for my number.  SCORE! Mission accomplished.  I definitely felt like focusing on having fun with my friends instead of pouting was good for the soul and good for the night.

Hold on!  There is an epilogue to this story…

Ryan texts me the very next day telling me how nice it was to meet me, etc. and we chit chat over the next few days via text.  Then Sunday afternoon comes, here are the text messages word for word:

Ryan’s text, “Hey there! How was your weekend?”

My text, “It was great! I had some college buddies visiting.  How was your weekend?”

Ryan’s text, “Good weekend for the most part.  I had to work this weekend so it kind of sucked.  Would have been better if I got to see you :). I should have texted you earlier and invited you over to come hang out at the pool with me.  I was chillin out there by myself”

My text, “Relaxing sounds nice!  I’m actually just getting home from dropping my friends off at the airport.  So I wouldn’t have been able to meet up with you today.  But I’d love to hang out some time.”

Ryan’s text, “Yea we have to set something up soon….. Side note… I do have a girl.  Just wanted to let you know and its not something I was trying to hide from you.”

What?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Don’t worry, I kept it cool.

My text, “Lol! Well then this is the last time we’ll be communicating.  Good luck!”

Ryan’s text, “Understandable”

Jesus Christ!! Really??! Yes, really!  I guess my air of “outrageously desperate” was more desperate than outrageous!  But hey, I had a good night out with friends.  Met some people.  Now have a great story to share.  And most importantly, I’m learning what’s working for me and what’s NOT working for me.  Mission accomplished.

Stay tuned for more adventures.

~Sonja Braun

Are you a leader?

Every day God took a clay pitcher to the well to fill it up and bring water back to the house.  The pitcher had a crack in it and would leak some of the water as God walked back home.  Day after day, God went and filled up the pitcher.  Day after day, the pitcher leaked water.  Finally one day the pitcher said to God, “Why do you keep using me?!  I’m wasting the water you draw from the well and making you work twice as hard.  You should get a new pitcher.”  God said to the pitcher, “Wasting?  Look at what you created.”  The pitcher looked and there along the path God took every day were beautiful flowers that had grown in the harsh desert from the constant watering.  “It’s your cracks that make this world beautiful.”

 

I am a part of a Leadership team, and have been for almost two months now.  We are a team of people who want to contribute to the world in a powerful way and live our lives to the fullest.  I am constantly challenged with the questions: What is a leader?  Am I leader?  Who’d ever want to follow me?  How do I have to change myself to become a good leader?

I have always thought of a leader as someone strong, take charge, always has good judgment, says the right things at the right times, charismatic.  A leader is perfect.  Or so I thought.  Imperfections are a given in life, so how can someone like me be a leader?  Now I’m starting to realize that we all might be imperfect in just the perfect way to fulfill our purpose.  What’s our purpose?  To leak water to the world, making it a beautiful place for everyone.

We often think light is the leader, it’s what we follow as we make our way through the world.  But actually the barn is the leader.  What are you leaking into the world?

~Sonja Braun

 

This is the video that inspired me to question my definition of leader.

Tainted love

Do you ever feel as if you love the wrong way?

Or the wrong things? The wrong people?  Somehow it just always feels like there is something inherently wrong about me and love.  It just feels so…unnatural. Strained.

When I was younger I used to think that because I was born with a congenital heart defect, that I was born with a mangled heart.  So that when I loved, it would equally be defective.  Mangled.  Like I needed a surgeon to come in and fix my love.

And now I understand that love doesn’t come from a physical place, but some mystical magical wonderland.  Or God.  Or something.  I don’t know where the fuck it comes from.  It just always feels wrong.  I always feel wrong doing it.  Like I’m soon going to get scolded for doing something bad.

I often feel that those people who are in love are delusional and that it’s just a matter of time before they realize they made it all up.  That it only existed in their heads.  “Love is for suckas.  Don’t get duped!”

But the shit’s not working for me.  Being rational sucks.  I want to be delusional and wrong.  I want to check myself into the insane asylum and join the crazies in howling at the moon.  Luckily I have a nice ass, so it should look good in those gowns with the back open.

Hopefully some of you will come see me during visiting hours.

~Sonja Braun

Tainted love

Do you ever feel as if you love the wrong way?

Or the wrong things? The wrong people?  Somehow it just always feels like there is something inherently wrong about me and love.  It just feels so…unnatural. Strained.

When I was younger I used to think that because I was born with a congenital heart defect, that I was born with a mangled heart.  So that when I loved, it would equally be defective.  Mangled.  Like I needed a surgeon to come in and fix my love.

And now I understand that love doesn’t come from a physical place, but some mystical magical wonderland.  Or God.  Or something.  I don’t know where the fuck it comes from.  It just always feels wrong.  I always feel wrong doing it.  Like I’m soon going to get scolded for doing something bad.

I often feel that those people who are in love are delusional and that it’s just a matter of time before they realize they made it all up.  That it only existed in their heads.  “Love is for suckas.  Don’t get duped!”

But the shit’s not working for me.  Being rational sucks.  I want to be delusional and wrong.  I want to check myself into the insane asylum and join the crazies in howling at the moon.  Luckily I have a nice ass, so it should look good in those gowns with the back open.

Hopefully some of you will come see me during visiting hours.

~Sonja Braun

So…umm…can I talk to you?

We need to talk…

Four little words everyone hates to hear, but everyone needs to say at some point in their lives.  What’s funny about those four little words is they are often associated with break ups, but I’m starting to realize they’re not a sign of an ending, but more of an uncomfortable change.

Change is something most people hate.  Something I hate.  It’s unpredictable, uncontrollable.  If you’re a somewhat successful adult it’s mainly because you’ve mastered the art of control.  You’ve learned that control is your friend, whether it’s controlling yourself or controlling others.

But at some point you realize maintaining the status quo isn’t satisfying, that something is going to have to change.  That you actually want something to change.  And if that something is a relationship with another person, you’re going to have to use those four little words.  You’re going to have to be uncomfortable.

What’s most scary about using those four little words is the person who says it is actually the one that’s most vulnerable.  You wonder to yourself: Should I rock the boat?  Are they going to be mad at me? Am I going to hurt them?  Are they going to lose respect for me?  Will they stop loving me after hearing what I have to say?

And the truth is the answer to many of those questions might be yes.  But if the relationship is important to both parties, it will recover.  And when it does, it’ll be stronger.  Or at least that’s what I tell myself.  Because all I know is hiding from what I really feel hasn’t been working for me.  And that has to change.

I actually want it to change.

~Sonja Braun

I’m thinking of becoming a nun

I’ve been challenged by a group of friends to start dating again.  And as I embark on this adventure, I can’t help but think…I’d be a great nun!

I offer into evidence, my top 10 reasons I should become a nun:

1. I can still help people
2. I won’t have to worry about paying my rent any more
3. I’ll never have to step into a mall and be forced to go shopping ever again
4. I can spend my hours reading
5. I’ll never have to worry about what to wear
6. I can officially be labeled a wild rebel by the Pope
7. I can cloister myself and never have to see people I don’t like ever again
8. I can finally stop waxing
9. I’ll never again have to worry if one of us remembered to bring a condom
10. But most importantly…I won’t have to go on any more dates!!

Now, I’m not quite sure if all of the above can be considered a “calling”, but it might just be good enough for me.  Pray for me everyone!

~Sonja Braun

Patience isn’t a virtue

Live as if…

I was having dinner with a good friend of mine who is an accomplished engineer.  I realized during the meal that she had to go back to the job site after dinner because she had the night shift.  She often gets stuck with the night and weekend shifts because the other engineers have families.  Everyone figures that it’s best to give these crappy shifts to the single engineer with no children.  I was outraged, while she seemed to have accepted her lot in life.

In a community, everyone has to take turns bearing the load.  How is she ever going to meet someone, date, get married, and have children if she’s always working the night and weekend shifts?  She is actually being robbed of a life she wants because she feels she is less important than her coworkers.  But she is important.  We are all important.  Our families, friends, coworkers, neighbors, and larger community need us, even if we aren’t parents.

I told my friend she needed to live as if she had a husband and child waiting for her at home.  As if she had a sick mother she had to take care of.  As if she was organizing a book club with her neighbors.  And as I was thinking about what I told her, I asked myself: How often do we get so rooted in our reality, we forget to live as if we have a dream?

So this is my list:

Live as if…I have a husband and child waiting for me at home.

Live as if…I’m loved and accepted for being me.

Live as if…I have what it takes to fulfill my dreams.

Live as if…there is enough…

Live as if…

What are we waiting for?  Things aren’t going to change unless we make them.  And the time is right…NOW!

~Sonja Braun

Making friends while over 30

Every once in a while we all need a good kick in the ass.

I recently relocated from New York City to Florida.  Yeah I know, cliché.  My whole family has lived here for almost a decade, but I’ve never lived here.  So here I am, no job, no friends.  And a whole lot of social anxiety to keep me company.

In Manhattan I felt very free to be an independent woman.  I was aware of what the social norms were and knew that I could do most things in the city by myself if I didn’t have a friend handy.  I could eat at a restaurant by myself.  Catch a movie by myself.  And go to a museum by myself.  But I don’t know anything about Florida, and what comes to mind is families.  And no one in my family does any of those things by themselves here in Florida.  So I was afraid to step out of the house and explore.

I was talking to a friend on the phone about building a community here in Florida.  He’s a young twenty-something.  He says, “Go out and make some friends!”  And I say to him, “It’s very difficult when you’re over 30 to make friends.”  He asks why.  I go into a long speech where I talk about every fear I’ve ever had as if it’s a fact.  And then he says to me “I’ve listened to you for a half hour.  Now get out the house and go make some friends!  Do your hair, look pretty, do whatever you need to do to feel confident.  But, enough.”

I hung up ashamed and angry.  And I started to cry.  Yes, I actually cried.  But I knew he was right.  So I got ready, did my hair, and left the house.  I cried the whole time.  I brought my laptop and decided to find a place to sit by the beach and get work done.  I cried the entire drive to the beach.  Yes, a thirty-something driving a Toyota 4 Runner down the Florida highways in the middle of the afternoon crying her eyes out because she had to get out the house and make some friends.  Some of you might have seen me, I was wearing a grey and orange stripped tank top dress.

I find a nice spot where you can stare at the beach while sitting at a bar.  Perfect place to work.  I open my laptop and start to type.  Then I remembered, I had to make friends.  Sitting at the bar with me was a fourty-something gentleman drinking a beer, enjoying the view.  I took a deep breath, turned, and started to talk to him.

What did I talk to him about?  I told him why I was there: I just moved to Florida and had to get out of the house, and was blown away by the view.  I asked him if he lives in Florida.  He does.  We talked for over an hour and a half!  And he was an intriguing individual that I feel lucky to have met.  I gave him my email address and went home.

That whole night I felt like an Olympic Champion!  Still cruising on my high, I said good night to my mom.  And as I turned to leave her, she points out that you can see the print of my underwear through my dress.  Victoria Secret panty with cheeky message on backside + cheap dress bought on Canal Street = humiliation six hours later.

*sigh*  I still feel like I won gold that day.  Thank God for good friends and observant mothers.

~Sonja Braun

To PhD or not to PhD?

“Whenever a warrior decides to do something, he must go all the way…” (Carlos Castaneda).  Really?! But…what if you’re tired?

Six years ago I walked away from a doctorate with a Master’s degree instead.  By the end of my first year I had already submitted a publication I co-authored and landed a prestigious three year fellowship, I excelled at science research and loved what I did.  So why did I leave? In five short years, I had collected and analyzed all my data, and yet none of it mattered.

The fall of my fifth year I had two months that would change my life.  I have a serious congenital heart defect for which I’ve had multiple surgeries for and now require an implantable cardioverter defibrillator (ICD).  At the time, I had pre-heart attack symptoms for which my cardiologist was running test after test to determine the severity.  I had a misdiagnosis of ovarian cancer, which with more tests turned out to just be a cyst that luckily went away on its own.  One of my committee members dumped me, saying I “missed too much class” because I was always in the hospital.  And to add insult to injury, a colleague at a conference mistook me for hotel staff and had asked me to refill his coffee.  I mean, I can see his confusion; I was young, brown, and a woman.  What else was he supposed to think?  I had had enough!  I wanted out and pretty much just walked away.

Why does this matter now?  I am currently transitioning my career from a high school science teacher to a science educator/mentor at a museum, aquarium, zoo, or university.  My dream jobs are either working for programs like Upward Bound or STEM programs for youths.  And even though I have two Master’s degrees (geology and education), a PhD would be the cherry on the cake.

A friend who is in academia, advised me contact my graduate school and ask them if I can finish my doctorate.  Even though deadlines have passed, she said, some universities will make exceptions if there are serious reasons like my medical issues.  But I’m not sure if I even want it.  I’m still so hurt, resentful, and wounded from the past.

And then there’s my future to complicate matters more.  I want to get married and have children.  I already spent five years in a doctorate program, I am fully aware of the time commitment it takes.  Am I willing to spend more of my life pursuing degrees?  Do I need this PhD?  And then there’s the worry.  How many men will love me if I have a PhD?  It’s easier to find love as a woman, if you don’t stand out too much.  If you don’t appear too capable, too smart, too accomplished.  I discovered that firsthand as a PhD student trying to date.  The quickest way to lose a guy is tell them you’re doing a doctorate, you’ll never see them again.  The reason why butterflies camouflage isn’t to hide their beauty, it’s so they don’t get eaten.  And I’m tired of being chewed up and spit out.

What’s funny about the whole thing is the university might not even say yes and let me finish the degree anyway.  So it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?  Then…why am I in so much pain?

~Sonja Braun

PS:  If you want to explore a world where woman and career doesn’t feel so mutually exclusive, check out Zinemin’s blog post The impact of motherhood on the lives of women: An analogy.

She gets it from her mama!

Put your money where your mouth is.

I recently did a post called “5 parenting tips from a recovering teacher” and realized I personally think, as an adult, how you relate to your money and spend your money has a lot to say about how you show up in life.  If you spend your money carelessly without a thought, you’re probably equally careless in your relationships with people.  If you are stingy with your money, well, you’re probably emotionally stingy with the people in your life.

I just moved from New York to Florida, and one day my mom pointed out a grocery store that was a few blocks from her house and told me that’s where she gets her groceries.  I knew in the next town over there was a grocery store that was double the size of this one, and asked her why she doesn’t go to the bigger one.  She said to me, “I have to support my neighborhood grocery stores or else they’ll go out of business, and then where will I be?”  In this day and age where gas is expensive, that was wise advice from my mother, but there was more wisdom in it than just saving gas.

Every dollar you spend as a consumer is a vote for what you feel is important.  When we think of consumer power, we often think of the weakest form–boycotting.  It’s our everyday spending that has the loudest voice.  For example, I’m against illegal downloading of music and movies.  Now if you’re a teenager without a job or an adult living below the poverty line, go ahead and do what you have to do, I don’t think you should be blocked from accessing the arts just because you don’t have the money.  But, as of 2010, that leaves the other 86% of us adults that have no excuse.

My ex-boyfriend actually got pretty upset at me every time I purchased a song or watched a movie On Demand.  He couldn’t wrap his mind around why I would pay for something when I can get it for free.  But that’s how he showed up in life: try to get the most you can for the least effort. (Hint: that’s why he’s an ex.)  As for me, if I love and respect an artist I’m going to support them any way I can.  I am lucky enough that $1 for a song or $12 for an album won’t break my budget, but if enough people take the easy way out, that artist may not have the money to go on tour or record more songs.

More importantly, I want the artists that inspire me, the stores that make my life easier, and the brands that are in line with my ethics to know just how valuable they are.

What are you saying with your money?

~Sonja Braun