The Paradox of Cheating

People in monogamous relationships often experience a visceral reaction to the idea of their partner cheating on them. Even single people will feel a pang at the thought of their future love leaving them for another. Cheating is a unique type of betrayal because it threatens the physical, emotional and mental sanctity of your body. When we commit to a person in a relationship, we are essentially allowing them exclusive access to our body. This is why so many people fall into a pattern of dependency with their partner, relying on them to feel happy and secure. Unfortunately, this mentality often has the opposite effect in the long-term. Whether we are in a relationship or not, we continue to grow and develop as individuals. Eventually, one person is growing in a direction that doesn’t naturally complement their partner. The outcome of this situation is often a “push-pull” effect: one person holds on to what they expect or want of their partner, causing them to pull farther away into who they actually are.

This painting by Leonid Afremov is a visual metaphor for how our bodies blur together when we are passionately in love. In those rare occasions when we truly let ourselves go, we are able to get lost in the other person temporarily. This is arguably one of the greatest human experiences we can have. The problem occurs when we expect our relationship to feel this way all the time, resulting in inevitable disappointment. What’s actually happening is a self-created delusion. We learn that losing yourself in love feels good, relieves stress, and takes away insecurities. Later, we realize those negative things still exist when we don’t have the distracting presence of love, and like a drug, we crave our next hit.

So what happens to the love couples have when one person decides to cheat?

People who have experienced cheating describe feeling a mixture of betrayal, shame and disgust. The most immediate thoughts often center on, “Why am I not good enough?” Considering how the blurring of boundaries in a relationship, it makes sense why we feel like insecure victims. We are left with bruised egos, crushed expectations, and the heavy burden of re-evaluating our lives. Many of us end up “giving love a second chance.” We assume it is our fault somehow. The person lies to you, betrays your relationship, and has sex with someone else, yet somehow it is your fault? Sure, in some cases it is purely physical, and the other person is Angelina Jolie. So what? That is no reason to find flaws in yourself. Jennifer Aniston is still gorgeous without Brad Pitt. There are many beautiful people in the world, just because someone cheats on you doesn’t somehow devalue who you are. On the contrary, I think it is far more compelling evidence in support of the other person’s issues. Nevertheless, I don’t think judgment of the cheater is worth much time either. The overarching point I want to make is that there is one common underlying issue with all cheaters: the unwillingness to sacrifice immediate gain for shared future goals.

We get into monogamous relationships to build a life together. Whether you want children or not, we ascribe to the ideology of monogamy because we value meaningful connection with another person who values similar things. A cheater sends the message that their satisfaction in the moment is more important than any commitments in the future. So when you are considering whether you want to take someone back who has broken your trust, it is important to understand what it is exactly they are denying you. Instead of focusing on insecurities about our appearance or social image, we should assess the most important issue: why we are in a relationship in the first place. This is the paradox of cheating. We actively choose to commit to someone, yet the action of cheating negates the very point of our investment.

No matter how in love you are, neither one of you has ownership of the other’s body. We may buy into the illusion because possessiveness can mask itself as security, giving us fleeting feelings of being in an unbreakable bond. In reality, the only thing your partner truly owes you is the integrity of their commitment to your shared future. I argue that “not cheating” is just a natural sacrifice of a committed relationship, much like enduring bad habits, evil mother-in-laws or financial crises. We all have the option to cheat if we want it, we choose not to when we believe the future is worth the sacrifice.

Very Inspiring Blogger Award !

Firstly, I’d like to say thank you to Ben and Francoise for nominating me. I’m still trying to work on my blogging skills so it is really great to know someone out there really likes what I’ve done so far.  For those of you who haven’t stumbled upon their wonderful blog, it is: http://benandfrancoise.com/ I sincerely recommend reading about their exotic travels, as they write with passion, insight and a witty sense of humor. To fulfill the requirements of accepting my award, I must now share with you 7 things about myself:

1. My first language was Russian, although I now speak it with an “adorable accent” as my parents like to say.

2. I love watching movies in technicolor. I find it really soothing.

3. From age 16 to 24, I spent almost every weekend partying. The closest I will get to a club now is my “electro fantasy” playlist on Songza.

4. My parents are my best friends. They are the most loving, admirable and supportive people I know.

5. I really want to travel around Asia…for 3 months. Unfortunately, the life of a grad student does not permit such an adventure.

6. One of my favorite things to do is paint…especially now that I’ve convinced my wonderful boyfriend to do it with me!

7. I could probably eat salmon 4 times a week for life, with red wine, and followed by something dark chocolate.

Now I will nominate 15 other bloggers who have inspired me (random order):

http://overwhelmingsanity.wordpress.com/

http://beautifulystrangeshortstories.wordpress.com/

http://hangryhippo.com/

http://gabrielnapoleon.wordpress.com/

http://scarlettgoeswest.wordpress.com/

http://chakranalife.wordpress.com/

http://inthemindofkate.wordpress.com/

http://windsorlily.com/

http://bluebeadpublications.com/

http://theothercourtney.wordpress.com/

http://meghankrein.wordpress.com/

http://mindfulmonth.wordpress.com/

http://faddrops.wordpress.com/

http://therapywithshannon.wordpress.com/

http://idolanuel.com/

Please check out these blogs, they are all interesting, unique and thought provoking.

New Year’s, Old Dreams

It is almost time to pop open the champagne and countdown the end of 2012. Are you all as excited as I am for the night of excessive planning, over-spending, annoying crowds at bars, and nation-wide cab shortages? Clearly, I’ve experienced one too many disappointing New Year’s Eve’s. Why the big deal though? What is it that we hope to accomplish on December 31st every year?

For many of you New Year’s is the pinnacle of your partying plans. You may enjoy going out every weekend, but tomorrow night is the perfect excuse to buy a new outfit and go all out. Like this Lempicka-esque painting by Madison K. Moore, your dream of couture gowns, tuxedos and open bars at a fabulous venue are close to coming true. For others, a romantic dinner and champagne in front of the TV is the right way to celebrate the end of the year. If you’re single, there’s always that hope you will meet someone dreamy on the dance floor and get the coveted midnight kiss. This is my first New Year’s celebrating with a boyfriend, so I’m thrilled I get to avoid the awkward midnight moment when you’re standing alone amongst a sea of couples kissing. That is my one victory this year. Unfortunately, I’m still anticipating the anti-climactic countdown, crowded bars playing lame music and being in bed by 1:30. I suppose one could argue my attitude is the problem. New Year’s is what you make of it, right? Well I think the problem for many of us, including myself, is that we might feel unsure of what we really want.

Every New Year’s we talk of resolutions as if saying them on the 31st will force us to achieve them. Resolutions generally fall into these categories: health, wealth, family and love. We pledge to workout four times a week, cut out sugar and carbs, and lose those 10-15 pounds we complain about. There are always promises of getting a better job, earning more money, and buying that car, house, or vacation. When it comes to family, our thoughts center on forgiveness and support in lieu of arguments and selfishness. Finally, love is probably one most people have in common, as we either want to find the love we lack, or keep the love we have. I don’t remember ever following through with any of my resolutions, probably because they were always pretty generic and self-centered.

Although I’ve always been grateful to celebrate with loved ones, it seems there is only this short window of time where we allow ourselves to truly connect. It happens right after the countdown when everyone is kissing each other and saying “Happy New Year!” to anyone that crosses their path. There is a genuine warmth and excitement that follows the highly anticipated countdown. It lasts for about 20 minutes. Why can’t we ride this feeling out everyday? Why do we forget our resolutions by end of the week? I think it is because we put a lot of pressure on this one day to be the catalyst for change. We spend the year caught up in our daily routines, and as a result New Year’s becomes the reminder of our past failures and future ambitions. We want to start fresh and make this next year better than the last, but in reality the only way to do that is to live everyday purposefully. Rather than getting consumed by the expectations of others, let this New Year’s remind you to create meaning for yourself everyday.

In whatever way your New Year’s unfolds, I hope it is safe, happy and meaningful!

Gender Bender

Female is the lens through which I see the world; yet, in clinical practice I’m expected to understand the male experience. Comprehending the complexities of gender is far from an easy task. Firstly, gender is a socially constructed label, only containing the meaning we, as a society, imbue upon it. Although many of us easily identify with male or female, there are countless individuals who experience life somewhere in between.  Pablo Picasso’s cubism and surrealism periods produced numerous pieces which we can interpret as bending traditional views of gender. His painting, Woman Seated before a Window, distorts the expected perception of the female figure. While impressionist painters accentuated the hourglass shape, facial symmetry and delicate features that comprise our ideal representation of the female form, Picasso chose to deconstruct the woman, challenging our views of beauty and art. Can a woman be defined by how closely she resembles a prototype? Is being feminine a necessary attribute of being a woman? Regardless of how you would answer these questions, we can’t deny the pressure that exists to side with one camp or the other.

I think it is important to view gender as a fluid term which we dichotomize to suit social ideals. When a baby is born, the first question anyone asks is, “Boy or girl?” We label so we know whether to buy something blue or pink, encouraging “appropriate” preferences. We feel the need to define gender to socialize our children into the paradigm of “man” and “woman.” It is this dichotomization, however, that I believe creates invisible differences in how we experience our moods. Being “emotional” is socially acceptable for women. We learn to communicate our feelings endlessly from childhood, and the world validates our expression. Whether I fail a test, lose my job, or just feel hormonal today, I know I can breakdown crying and no one will think I am less of a ”woman.” My mother would say something like, “My poor baby, take all the time you need to cry it out.” Friends would come over armed with wine and cupcakes, ready to go over every detail of whatever tragedy has befallen me. I know it is safe to show people how I feel because the ultimate message I receive is, “You are now stronger for having fallen apart.” On the other hand, we socialize men to contain their emotions. The term male brings forth the stereotypical image of stoicism, strength and power. With that connotation alone it is evident why so many men have difficulty expressing how they feel when they are vulnerable: Vulnerability isn’t an option.

The biggest issue with the dichotomous gender role construction is that it ignores common experience. Granted, we know there are significant hormonal differences accounting for variations in how we experience moods and emotions. Yet, ultimately we are all human, and human beings are susceptible to depression. Major Depressive Disorder is a leading cause of disability in North America, affecting over 15 million people.  Although the prevalence rates are much higher in women, I would argue this has more to do with socialization than a true gendered difference. Women are much more likely to communicate feelings of depression and undergo treatment, as they experience significantly less stigma. Unfortunately, this implies men will suffer in silence. Not only are they less likely to express their emotional states, but they are also less likely to identify their emotional experience.  While we teach women to openly express how they feel, we encourage men to avoid their issues. Rather than empowering men to connect to their emotions, we perpetuate the idea that men must live up to an absurd standard just to define themselves as “men.” Consequently, we see the outcome of this in substance abuse centers and prisons overpopulated with men who constrain their emotions. If we fail to bring awareness and insight into this pattern, we can’t address the needs of half the population.

What are your thoughts on this phenomenon?

Confessions of a hypochondriac

My boyfriend (Andrew) has been sick for a month, diagnosis pending. He experienced extreme fatigue, mild fever, night sweats and hot/cold flashes during the first two weeks. We went to see a doctor, and he was given a blood test to check for all the usual suspects (mono, chronic fatigue syndrome, etc…) No swollen lymph nodes, no rashes, no pain. What the hell is wrong with him? We were looking forward to hearing from the doctor, expecting to finally put a name to whatever is invading his body. The results came back negative for everything, however, his doctor mentioned his liver enzymes and white blood cells were elevated. Awesome. Without a diagnosis, I had to take the matter into my own hands. Google informed me of the following possibilities: Lymphoma, Hepatitis, Lupus and Menopause. Damn you Google, damn you. By this point, Andrew is texting me daily saying things like, “Babe, I want you to know that when I die I hope you find someone who loves you as much as I do. Please don’t ever forget me.” After the third week, he started to feel better but developed a chronic dry cough. The doctor called him in for a second blood test to, “See if something grows” in his culture. We’ve been puzzling over his symptoms for weeks, I don’t care if a new civilization emerges, just tell me what he has.

If we were thinking rationally, we would have gone with the most likely explanation: a mildly threatening virus. Yet, rational thinking is far from what instinctually occurs when many of us feel vulnerable. Catastrophic thinking, on the other hand, is a process I know well. When there isn’t an easy answer or obvious solution, our minds may search through an infinite supply of possibilities and pull out the most horrifying options. The tendency to think of the worst possible situation has a seemingly adaptive quality. We think we are preparing for the worst case scenario. When the universe doesn’t give us a concrete answer, we are often compelled to create one that will match the anxiety we feel internally. Edvard Munch’s painting, “The Scream” is the quintessential artistic expression of anxiety. Munch was able to portray the agony of anxiety with his broad and garish brush strokes. Yet we are left questioning, “What is he so anxious about?”

Whether you are a billionaire or beggar, philanthropist or psychopath, you will one day be faced with death. Every person becomes aware of their fate and must process the notion of non-existence. The idea that I will one day seize to exist is really disturbing to me. Without any religious ties, I can’t rely on faith for comfort. Essentially, I think my greatest fear is the loss of meaningful relationships. I define my life by the people I connect with, making it difficult to fathom the alternative. Through existentialism we can philosophize about the human experience, and process the fear of this ultimate disconnection. According to Viktor Frankl, only by searching for meaning can we define our identities and choose the life we want to live.  I believe anxiety results from the narrow view that we do not have a choice. Although we can’t control our fate, we are capable of making choices everyday that can enrich our lives.

Although I make sincere efforts to lead a meaningful life (pursuing my dream profession, forming close bonds with friends and family, helping others when I can), sometimes anxiety creeps back in unconsciously. I’ve noticed that I am a lot more concerned with my health than I have ever been. I was pretty reckless in my early twenties: drinking, smoking and partying all night. Now I find myself laying out my vitamins every morning and giving smokers the evil eye for polluting in my presence. If someone is sick around me, I’m convinced I’ve already caught what they have. Although I don’t have full-fledged hypochondriasis, anytime I feel my health is at risk, I catastrophize and assume the worst. Is fear of being sick really just a fear of death? Albert Camus suggested our anxiety, our fear of death, is a rational response to the “absurdity” that is our existence. From his perspective, the world is random and unfair; we can live for a century or get hit by a bus tomorrow. Moreover, it implies there is no meaning in the world beyond the meaning we give to it. Bad things happen to good people, and we have to navigate the world knowing this fact. Is there anything more absurd than that?

I suspect my recent hypochondriac reactions are a consequence of having so much to lose. I’ve always had anxiety tendencies but prior to moving to Chicago, they centered on relationships and rejections from grad schools. Now that I am in love with my city, school and boyfriend, I’d like to stay healthy enough to enjoy this time in my life. Maybe my awareness of how little control we really have propels me to worry just a little on the irrational side. Oh, well…more chicken soup for all.

Food is Sex

The smokey-sweet bacon wrapped date is like a bad boy who secretly loves to cuddle. Balsamic glazed grilled salmon, asparagus spears and a bottle of pinot noir, are the perfect threesome, no awkward silences after guaranteed. But nothing is more seductive than the sultry taste of dark chocolate, not even Rob Lowe circa 1982. As a child, I ate chicken noodle soup every day for months, refusing to try any exotic dishes. My love affair with food developed over time. It was facilitated by my parents who encouraged me to, “Try it, or you will never know what you are missing.” As my palate developed, I became more adventurous. The worst case scenario is that you don’t like it, but the best case is gastronomic euphoria.

Out of all possible addictions, there are only two that pertain to basic fundamental needs of humanity: food and sex. From the classic Freudian perspective, food is sex. The pleasure derived from eating is not just the sensory reaction of your taste buds; we are driven by repressed sexual impulses which manifest in craving food and binging. Dieting and restricting food may be seen as an attack on this unconscious drive, mediating the shame that we feel for its existence. Neuroscience research  demonstrates the powerful effects various foods have on mood with the release of neurotransmitters, such as: dopamine, seratonin, norepinephrine and endorphins. These chemicals can make us feel pleasure, calmness, concentration and pain relief, respectively. Interestingly, sex also triggers the release of neurotransmitters, causing us to crave a person like we crave sugar. Although there are significant parallels between food and sex, Freudian theory lacks a socio-cultural component which I think is essential to the discourse on food.

The American figurative painter, Lee Price, created a series of evocative self portraits with food. The realism in her paintings is uncanny, and this piece, “Full,” is no exception. Price uses foods that are considered comforting or indulgent to depict compulsive behavior. The chaotic compulsion of the figure in her painting is contrasted with the eerie calm of solitude. She is demonstrating the absurdity of compulsive eating by placing herself in a bathtub or bed; places we do not typically eat. Yet, shame is the emotion depicted on her face. Why should we feel bad for indulging when we have unprecedented access to a wide variety of foods, and countless restaurants showcasing the innovation of culinary arts. Food may be sex, but it is also art. Unfortunately, our culture is saturated with diet pills, excersize fads and models with ten percent body fat. We are socialized to scrutinize our bodies with a critical eye, and punish ourselves for imperfections. Our worth is determined by how closely we can come to attaining a standard set by less than one percent of the world’s population. If something is forbidden, it becomes infinitely more desirable. Consequently, we often give in to cravings, leaving us feeling weak, vulnerable and ashamed.

Food may be beautiful, delicious and necessary for survival, but one thing it can not do is make you feel good about yourself. We infuse certain foods with qualities they don’t have. For example, eating chocolate cake will likely ellicit feelings of pleasure and comfort, but it will not erase the damage people have done to your self esteem. We pretend food can solve our problems because it may feel good to eat in the moment, but in reality we are just avoiding the underlying issues. Compulsively indulging in food will distract us from being mindful and present in the moment. At the core of this phenomenon is our fear of being still. When we are fully aware of ourselves, we risk feeling sadness, anxiety and pain. In reality, it is only when we accept these negative experiences that we can uncover our true selves. Within each individual is a spectrum of thoughts, traits and memories. If we deny parts of ourselves, we risk losing the ability to fully engage with life. Balance is an ideal we strive for. While on this journey, I see no reason to deny the erotic brilliance of molten chocolate lava cake -in fact, I insist you take one bite, maybe two.

Are you what you buy?

What is it about consumerism that transcends culture and class, and what aspects are exclusive to our own experiences?

Although I didn’t grow up in a wealthy family, my parents worked hard and chose to live beyond their means. They provided their only daughter with luxuries unheard of in former USSR: the best private schools, vacations twice a year and countless extra-curricular activities. We often watched Fashion Television together, and I quickly learned how to distinguish Versace from Valentino. We couldn’t actually afford couture, but we had a taste for it. Shopping was a highly anticipated part of every vacation. I was taught to look past brand names and pay attention to design. Rarely wasting time in high-end department stores, we headed straight for discount designer shops like Loehmann’s or Century 21. I loved getting deals on coveted designer names; it was empowering.

Despite my interest in fashion, I never devoted time to understanding why I felt  drawn to it. Did I just want to be socially accepted or admired? Was I trying to mask feelings of insecurity? As human beings we want to feel connected with others. Interestingly, we rarely discuss how effective consumerism is in achieving this goal. Andy Warhol’s pop art placed a spotlight on American consumerism, illuminating the obsession with labels, brands and fame.  Brand marketing sells a lifestyle; we buy the illusion. Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup Cans, for example, are the iconic image of mass production. Campbell’s doesn’t just produce soup, they sell the security of an American family tradition. Advertisements for virtually any high-end brand sell sex, power, security and happiness. Ultimately, I believe the indirect goal is always happiness. Yet, I am skeptical anyone really feels secure as a result of eating tomato soup. However, the idea of security is sufficient to solidify the brand in American tradition. In a similar vein, I doubt anyone feels happiness by accumulating shoes, even if they are Louboutins. I would argue people experience pleasure when they shop, and pleasure when they buy. Unfortunately, pleasure doesn’t last. We feel compelled to buy more because we are perpetually unsatisfied.This is also an integral component of addiction: chasing feelings of pleasure that can never be harnessed.

Lynne Layton, a Harvard professor who specializes in understanding social class and politics wrote an article titled, “That place gives me the heebee jeebies.” It highlights various experiences of class and consumerism through a psychoanalytic lens. Each of us are thought to have an internal representation of the class level we grew up with. Throughout our lives we replay this internalized experience in ways that are beyond conscious awareness. This theory may explain why people experience anxiety in certain shopping environments. For example, an individual who grew up with wealth may walk into a thrift shop and get the “heebie jeebies.” Their internalization of class is reflected in their anxiety, as they have an unconscious wish to distance themselves from the lower classes. Alternatively, someone from the middle class who became rich in adulthood may feel guilt shopping in high-end stores because they surpassed their parents’ success. Alternatively, individuals who came from lower class homes may feel out of place in a store like Nordstrom because their perception of themselves is firmly held in their socio-economic status.

When I reflect on my own development, I recognize how my upbringing plays out in my shopping preferences. Although I love high-end designers, I tend to avoid wandering around Saks or Neiman Marcus, even though I admire the styles and designs found there. From a practical standpoint, I don’t go there because I can’t afford anything. Yet, there is something underlying that choice. I admit there is a frustration that goes along with seeing, touching or trying on things that you can’t possess. When I am persuaded into these stores I feel compelled to dress up in trendy outfits and pretend to deliberate between the Marc Jacobs bag or the Tory Burch. In my experience, the admiration for the upper-class lifestyle had to be mediated by middle class means, resulting in my dual perception of consumerism. It is both rejected and admired. The fact that I can intellectualize the trivial nature of consumerism, while pining over an Alexander McQueen dress, demonstrates the power of this phenomenon.There is an internal struggle that goes along with being a consumer in North American society: We all have to concede who we are with who we want to be.