Painting the Kitchen (And Other Ways To Avoid Reality)

In the spring of 2004, I suddenly found myself unemployed and married. Well, the being married part wasn't quite as sudden as the jobless part, so it's probably more accurate to say I found myself married due to a hasty decision made from a place of 'supposed to'... You see, I got married because I thought I was supposed to get married. I thought it was expected of me, that it would make everything better, and that by getting married my life would finally be complete.

Moreover, I thought I was supposed to want to get married and that, if I didn't want to get married, there was definitely something wrong with me (and I really, really needed there to be nothing else wrong with me because I'd spent so long believing there was lots of stuff wrong with me).

And yet, I didn't want to get married... but I didn't really know this at the time.

After all, everyone around me seemed to approve of the idea, and he seemed to be quite smitten and said all the right things (including that he really, really wanted to get married); so after dating for a couple of years we eloped instead of waiting around to plan a wedding (because who has time for that when you don't really want to get married even though you don't know you don't want to get married) and within 48 hours of the ceremony I knew I'd made a mistake... because a little voice inside me very sternly, and wisely, said so.

"You realize what you've done, right?" probed the little voice, "This isn't something you can just undo... no, this is a big deal. And you did it to make everyone around you more comfortable because you think if they're comfortable, then you can finally be comfortable... but that's not how it works."

And so the fear and the shame kicked in. I mean, what would everyone think (worse: what would they say behind my back?) if I announced "Never mind, I actually don't want to be married and I need to love myself enough to end this marriage regardless of the fact that it's only two days old"?

So I did what any person with a history of love addiction and codependent behavior does after getting married while not really wanting to be married: I told myself that it was 'just me', that I'd just have to get over it, and deal with it, that I was the problem and I shouldn't make problems for everyone else, that my feelings weren't important enough to rock the boat... and over the next several months I became more and more love-avoidant, causing my partner to become more and more anxious.

But there was a bright spot: During this time I got hired for what I thought was my dream job at my dream magazine with my dream title, so instead of facing the reality of my life, I threw myself into that role (Fashion Director!). I quietly fantasized about starting a new single life and eventually began planning a way out of my marriage; looking at apartments, putting money aside, and dreading the divorce conversation.

But then, I was fired. Suddenly. On a very cold Friday the 13th I went to work and learned that my new publisher--who hadn't even started working with me yet but wanted me gone (for reasons that are still unclear), so I lost my income and my fantasy of an exit plan, along with my remaining self-worth.

I very quickly fell into a depression, while also experiencing what I now know to be withdrawal due to an addicted relationship with my recently lost job and the managers that came with it (What had I done? What was everyone saying about me? Why didn't they love me? How can I fix it?) and couldn't bear the idea of trying to find yet another job; a job that would surely fail in comparison to the one I just lost (like, poof!) in the soul-sucking magazine industry. This, combined with the reality of my marriage and the shame that came with allllll of it, was overwhelming.

So I shut down. I withdrew from friends and family (because who could possibly understand the mess I'd gotten myself into?). And I started drinking more. And since I no longer had my work to use as an avoidance tool, in its place I became obsessed with HGTV and attempting to recreate DIY decor ideas in the little apartment shared with my husband.

The kitchen/dining room was my first project. I started with decorator white for the walls and a thrift store chandelier painted blood orange with a fancy spray lacquer I'd seen in Domino Magazine, which couldn't be purchased by the can; no, it was only available by the case (so I purchased a dozen cans of orange spray lacquer because that made sense).

And I loved it. For a week. Then I decided it needed something more... maybe it was too white? So I trekked to the hardware store on First Avenue with my little roller basket to get more supplies and painted again, but...

Squash blossom was too yellow, so back to the hardware store I went for...

Flagstone! But it was too beige, then finally...

Blueberry Hill! Which was too... blue. But I didn't have the energy to do it all again (and frankly I was getting bored with the kitchen), so I moved on to the hallway! Where I began with Pear Green, a gorgeous chartreuse, which I loved. And yet I just had to repaint it with a faux concrete effect, which took forever (but that was the whole point).

I also obsessively scoured eBay for Midcentury decor like a fondue pot, countless vintage framed paint by numbers of bird dogs, so many swag lamps, and distracted myself with a poor job of gardening in the little backyard of our first-floor brownstone apartment. And all the while there was something dark and twisty roping around my insides: Misery.

Did I have food on the table and a roof over my head? Yes. Was I functional? No. But reminding myself daily that I had so much and should be grateful for what I had only contributed to the shame that came with the misery that led to the avoidance and the growing dysfunction.

I wasn't thriving because I was avoiding my reality; or, as my friend Becky Vollmer says, I was miserable because I refused to say it out loud or even acknowledge it to myself. I was miserable because I refused to own my reality.

According to Pia Mellody refusing to own our reality is what keeps us dysfunctional. It's what keeps us stuck in codependent behavior and love-addicted relationships.

But owning our reality comes with risk, and the story in my head back in 2004 was that if I allowed myself to own my reality, then I'd have to speak up. I'd have to start taking care of myself and that would mean making changes that might hurt others.

That story in my head informed me that owning my reality would mean disconnection from those I cared about, because I'd disappoint them and they'd stop loving me... it meant that I'd have to be honest about my needs and wants which meant I could no longer lean on the facade of Don't Worry About Me, I'm FINE! that I'd presented to the world for so long.

Obviously, there's much more to the story of my marriage and how it ended, but suffice it to say that it did end, and while I wasn't as graceful as I'd like to have been, I learned a lot about marriage and about myself (it's big deal and I don't want to be married). And that particular ending led to the beginning of my most love-addicted relationship, which led me to where I am today and for that, I am grateful, regardless of what it took to get here.

So why am I sharing this story? For two reasons:

1. I've avoided sharing this part of my life because... well, I'm not totally sure why. But it was becoming clear to me that I wanted to share it but was holding back, and if I'm going to continue to be authentic in my recovery story there's a way to talk about things and have boundaries (so this is an exercise in that).

2. Because I believe the story I've shared here is an example of how love addiction can look different for different people at different times of their lives. For example, even though I spent most of my life as the more 'love-addicted' partner, I've also been more love-avoidant.

To me, love addiction is more than just love 'addiction', it's love avoidance and love anorexia too. It's Mother Hunger (Kelly McDaniel) and developmental immaturity/codependence (Pia Mellody). And all of this is rooted in developmental trauma (neglect and/or enmeshment) that results in five core issues: issues with self-esteem, issues with boundaries, issues with reality, issues with dependence, and issues with moderation.

And this is why in my Understanding Love Addiction program, we cover these five core issues, as well as the primary symptoms of love addiction & love avoidance, and how to build your own road to recovery. ULA provides education, connection, and support, which are the three elements that were vital in my own early recovery.

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