Leigh Kramer

To Be The Girl On The Back Of A Bike

"I want to take you for a ride on the bike," he declared, his eyes intent on me, a whisper of excitement curling up at the edges. 

It came out of nowhere. Our conversation consisted of the usual topics and always, always I tried to figure out where I stood and where I wanted to stand. It was one of those days where summer transitioned into fall and our friend group's plans bled from one fun thing to the next on the weekend. Scraps of surrounding conversations filtered into my awareness but nothing could distract me from his gaze.

How did he manage to do this to me? We were still only a few months into this equilibrium and at least every week he'd do or say something that made me question whether he wanted something more again. He made me question my very sanity. I didn't want to be hurt but I wasn't ready to let go of him entirely either.

"We could go right now," he continued. It was a dare and maybe it was a message. We couldn't leave this gathering together and not be plagued by whispers. Maybe that was part of the problem. For every sweet thing he did, a friend would squeal, "I really think he likes you again!" and I'd wonder. But I also couldn't forget the phone call where he said he couldn't do this, that he didn't want to lose me but he realized he wasn't attracted to me after all. 

I tried not to think about that phone call.

I tried not to think about what a motorcycle ride would mean. There was no doubt I'd go. He wasn't anything close to a bad boy but my heart forever trended toward those with an edge. Give me a tattooed, bearded man with a bike and I'll be content. Or in this case, one out of three.

"How about tonight?" I countered. We were all going to a cookout and it would give me a chance to swing home and change into something else. Too many people had gotten road rash over the years for me to want to test that fate. "I don't want to ride when I'm wearing shorts and flip flops. And I'll need a helmet too." 

He should have thought of this before he ever asked but I pushed the doubt back into the recesses of my mind. He sought me out. He wanted to take me for a ride. He didn't make this offer to any of our other friends.

I wore jeans to the cookout, a thrum of nerves beating in my stomach. After we'd eaten, he came over and asked if I was ready to go. I followed him out to my car, where I changed into sneakers.

I looked at him expectantly for a helmet but there wasn't one. He made excuses. He hadn't wanted to drive all the way back home to get it. Granted, it was a longer trip for him but he chose to get coffee with a few friends during that time instead. He chose something else over me. Again.

He would wear his helmet- it only made sense in his eyes- and told me nothing would happen to us in my hometown. This wasn't 100% true. Accidents could happen anywhere, anytime, and they certainly did here. 

I should have put my foot down. I should have walked away from the blurred lines of our friendship.

But I wanted to be the girl on the back of a bike. I wanted to forget all my worries for even an hour as the world rushed by. It could simply be him and me. Full stop. I hoped I wouldn't live to regret it.

I wrapped my arms around him and felt the muscles of his body beneath my fingers. I should have held on tighter once the bike began to move but I needed to keep space between us and remember. How many more ways could he show me I didn't matter enough? And still, knowing all I knew, I wanted him to want me. I deserved better and yet I wanted the thrill of a motorcycle ride to take me back to the day he first asked me out and the time he surprised me at work. 

The temperature dropped as we rode down familiar streets. I wished I'd grabbed a jacket but the day had been sunny and warm. I shivered and took in the roar of the motor and the town I knew so well. My hair tangled and darted around my face without a helmet or hair tie to tame it from the wind. It battered me without restraint and I could only take it. 

After a while, we stopped by to see some married friends in their new house. He'd wooed her on the back of his bike and they looked at us with knowing grins as we stepped inside. I wanted to tell them there was nothing to see in my wind-whipped hair and rosy cheeks.

This ride meant nothing. I would not hold on to the hope of him. This time I wanted to mean it.

Smells Like Teen Spirit

He let me wear his coat during class that day.

It was brown corduroy lined with cream shearling. It was too big even for him but such was fashion in the 90s. Swaths of fabric pooled around my body. I pushed the thick sleeves back whenever I needed to take notes.

Tim* sat in front of me, stoic without his armor. The coat smelled like CK1 and cigarettes. I didn't know for sure he smoked until then. I breathed in his scent, knowing this might be my only chance.

Our school's heating system heated indiscriminately and this wing of the building ran cold. There wasn't always time to grab my winter coat from my locker before class. I couldn't believe he'd offered it to me when he could have offered it to Stacey instead. I could never compete with one of the most popular girls in school. But no, he'd overheard us talking about how cold we were and settled his coat on my shoulders before I even understood what he said. My shoulders. Not hers. 

What was this life?

I barely had a chance to thank him before class began and we took our seats.

Doc Wilder started the lesson as I stared at the back of Tim's head wondering what had just happened. It didn't make any more sense to me but a lick of hope curled through me. Maybe this meant something. Maybe this crush would not end unrequited.

I looked at the way his hair fell and the shape of his ears. I took in his posture and how he always seemed at home in his body, something I appreciate more now as an adult. He was funny and irreverent and smart. He embodied the grunge look so well and God help me but I wanted to be Courtney Love to his Kurt Cobain- if they'd had a healthy relationship. Like a much, much healthier version.

The day he gave me his coat was not the first time we'd talked but it was the first time I wondered if he was paying better attention to our pre-class conversations than I thought. He saw me and nothing makes me fall harder for someone than that. 

Class ended and it was time for lunch. I peeled off his coat and gave it back to him, immediately chilled. We strolled through the hallway, chatting as usual, and then headed in different directions. He gave me his usual smile and my stomach flipped in return. I wondered if anything had changed. If anything would change.

Nothing changed.

A week later, desperation clawed through me. What had his kind gesture meant? I needed a sign.

"Can I borrow your coat again?" The question slipped out as I looked up into his clear blue eyes. I immediately wished I could lasso the words back. My face turned red and electricity snapped through me. I was a live wire of vulnerability. I was asking for his coat but I was asking for so much more.

Annoyance swept over his face. After all, it was freezing. Whatever had motivated his gentlemanly behavior before was no longer in play. But he still shrugged it off and let me borrow it once more. I knew better than to ask again. I tamped my feelings back down. When class ended, I shrugged off the coat and put my crush back on the shelf.

And that was that. 

A year later he started dating one of my friends, a bubbly Pollyanna type. I was mystified how this bad boy could see something in her he didn't see in me. He was a perpetual question mark.

Why had he given me his coat that day? Did he ever think I was attractive? What could I have done differently to call him mine?

Not too long ago I caught a whiff of cK1 and I was transported back to the classroom, his face smiling at me, and the heft of that coat pooled around me. I felt the ache of wanting him. More than 20 years have passed but I still wonder. 

 

*Names have been changed because you may feel like writing about your high school crush but that doesn't mean you want your crush to Google himself and find out about it.

Hosting A Holiday Meal? Add Another Chair To The Table

If you're hosting Thanksgiving dinner this week, can I please ask you a favor?

Consider adding another chair or two to the table.

Extend an invitation to someone who is single or the married couple down the street or the family living far from their extended family. Think about your neighbor or your co-worker. Think about the people who are estranged from their families or who no longer have any family. Remember the orphan and the widow.

If you're not sure if someone has plans, ask them what they're doing and then invite them to stop by your house.

Since I moved out of state 6+ years ago, I've only made it back home for Thanksgiving once. Every year friends (single and married alike) have asked me to join their gathering and it has meant the world. Last year I went to Friendsgiving and it was possibly the best Thanksgiving I've ever been to. (Sorry, family.)

It is neat to see other people's holiday traditions and staples and I always bring something to share. I rarely notice the state of someone's home because I'm too busy having fun, catching up with friends and getting to know their friends, spouses, and/or extended family. I've been to every kind of holiday gathering, whether 4th of July or Thanksgiving, and all that ever matters is someone wanted me to be there.

Maybe you'll invite them and they'll say no. Not everyone wants to have holiday plans but I suspect most people do. 

So please. Think about someone who might need to feel like they belong somewhere and invite them into your home. You won't regret it.

 

This was originally published on my Facebook page and has been lightly edited for clarity.

How Shopping At Trader Joe's Led To A Breakthrough

A couple of weeks ago I went to Trader Joe’s and when it was time to check out, two registers were open. To the right, a tall hot drink of water with a man bun. To the left, some other dude. The lines were equally long. Did I go to the one on the right?

No, I did not.

It was a split decision. If I went with Man Bun, I worried I’d be stunned speechless, I’d make a fool of myself, I’d feel incredibly awkward. In short, I freaked out.

I went with the safer option and got in line for Some Other Dude. I couldn’t muster up much small talk even for that guy, being generally exhausted from moving to a new state. 

Once I drove home, the whole thing really bothered me. What if I’d actually talked to Man Bun? Maybe I wouldn’t have been interested anymore but maybe I would have been more intrigued. And maybe he would have been intrigued back! But I didn’t even risk a conversation. I avoided the possibility.

I posted about the non-interaction on Twitter. Em tweeted she wished she could give me some of her Three mojo. She said, “it’s like you put on your superhero cape and go smile...Next time, just pretend to be a 3!”

I loved the Enneagram reference and the visual. “Here I am, putting on my superhero cape and all men will be stunned by my amazingness!”

The next time I go to Trader Joe’s and he’s working, I’ll get in line for his register. I promise.

That's not the end of the story.

A few nights later I read the chapter on Fours in The Complete Enneagram and one section in particular completely bowled me over.

“Type Fours’ cognitive mistake centers on the underlying belief that they are lacking in some important quality that would make them worthy of love...If you believe that you are lacking in important personal traits that would make you attractive and acceptable to others (and thus worthy of love), then it logically follows that you won’t want to risk rejection or abandonment by opening up to being loved. If you expect others to reject or abandon you- if you anticipate negative results- you end up creating an external reality that confirms your negative expectations.” p. 278

“...the Four’s worldview that they can’t have what they most want...Fours both search for the love that will prove them wrong and prevent themselves from being open to love in case they are proved right.” p. 279

“To receive the love and understanding you want, you have to have the courage to shift your attention to how that might be possible rather than dwelling on impossibility.” p. 303

 

Even though I think of myself as a good catch, even though I was sure I'd moved beyond this, I doubt men will find me attractive or intriguing. My brain unconsciously reverts back to the “you’re too ugly” messages that plagued me from age 13 to college. I assume they won’t be attracted to me.

It’s hard to untangle stubborn subconscious beliefs from lived experience. Guys typically don't pursue me right away. We’re usually friends for a while and one day they start seeing me in a more romantic light. I have friends who meet men at the grocery store or when they’re pumping gas or in line for a museum and I’ve always marveled at their ability to draw someone in without saying a word. 

(That’s not to say I’ve never been hit on. It’s just that most of the random guys who hit on me are old enough to be my father or claim to have hacked [country name redacted.])

Logically, I know I am worthy of love and not having romantic love doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me. But in the moment of possibility, I revert back to believing it's impossible anyone would love me as I am. I revert back to hiding. It's a vicious cycle.

 

It is weird to realize most days I believe I’m beautiful, witty, and wise but when I’m around someone I find attractive, I freeze up and assume they’ll reject me. I believe it in theory but the moment it becomes a real possibility, I freak out. I don't want to risk rejection, which in most cases is simply not having a longer conversation or being asked for my phone number. It's not the end of the world. I know that and yet.

I’m not sure what changed. The other day my friend Annie and I were talking about the cumulative effects of failed dates and relationships. How at this point in our 30s, it’s becoming easier to wonder if there are any good guys left (surely there are!) when we only meet the lackluster ones. It’s harder to stay optimistic. I used to proclaim “it only has to happen once!” But years later I keep coming back to HOW?!

I used to believe it could happen at any moment. I breathed in the air of possibility. Given the right context, I haven’t shied away. I do great when I have a wingman or when I’ve known a guy for a while. I don't do well with cold opens. I can strike up a conversation with just about anyone in a group setting, although I usually have to work my way up to going over to a cute guy. But I do it eventually!

Meeting someone now is a very small hope and not something I think a lot about. But that of course is why Man Bun matters. Because sometimes it starts with a conversation at the register or wherever else.

And because no matter what, I'm not going to hide how awesome I am from anyone. My superhero cape is on.

Caveat: I trust you all know I'm not asking for dating advice. 

An Ideal Single Life

 

"I need to...make plans for a solo future. What do I want the rest of my life to look like? And how soon do I start shaping that future?"  -journal entry December 25, 2015

Throughout January and February of this year, I began dreaming about what my ideal single life would look like. Taking a future husband out of the equation entirely: what would a happy, whole life look like for me? What would need to be in place for me to feel I'm living my best life?

While I've gone hard after the life I want, I've never framed my singleness with any particular intentionality either, probably because I thought at some point I'd get married. In more recent years, I've looked for mentors and I've pondered what a good single life would look like but that's as far as it's gone.

And yet the years keep passing by and I'm as single as ever and now I'm firmly in my mid-30s and swiftly approaching my late 30s. So I've been dreaming and taking the time to live some of this out, to see how it felt, to see how it might shape my decisions and my future.

I came up with 5 pillars of my ideal single life. The first two came to mind immediately and by the end of April the other three had locked into place. There could be more but almost every other idea fit into the original five pillars.

I'm curious about what other people would choose for their own pillars. How many similarities would there be and how they might uniquely reflect the person who created them. Is there much variation between men and women? Is there value in encouraging "younger" singles to do this? 

It has been incredibly helpful to use these pillars as a filter and a gauge. In fact, it's been freeing. Part of me wishes I'd had them in place a decade ago. I don't think it would have changed any of my big decisions but it might have made the process of deciding easier. Either way, I'm glad they're in place now and I'm excited to see how they continue shaping my life in the coming months and years.

 

5 Pillars of My Ideal Single Life: 

1. Meaningful Career

I want to find work that challenges me and is meaningful. I want room to grow on a career trajectory. I want to feel excited when I arrive at work each day. (Or at least most days.)

I've never been a workaholic but I do love the feeling of accomplishment and knowing I've done my best and made a difference in peoples' lives. Wherever I work, I want to know I'm making a contribution to my team and the organization/company. I've been supporting myself since college and I'm a big fan of a decent paycheck but that's not what motivates me. At the same time, I want to make enough money to support my interests and eventual retirement.

When I started working as a social worker, I figured I'd do it until I got married and had children. Instead, Mr. Right neglected to come calling and I burned out on my chosen profession. It's important for me to have a good work-life balance, no matter what I'm doing. This was a big part of why I retired from social work- the balance was no longer there, no matter what I tried.

It's taken me some time post-social work to figure out the next right career path but I finally have direction and I'm really excited about the possibilities. When I picture myself in this field, I can't help but smile.

 

2. Committed Diverse Community

It's important to have a strong circle of local friends whom I see regularly. Since my 30s, that particular combination has felt like the Holy Grail at times. I might have really good friends who I saw regularly or acquaintances who I saw regularly but the relationship never grew deeper. Part of that is due to this time in our lives, especially given how many of my friends are raising young kids. It's tricky to find friends with same availability and interests, which makes them worth their weight in gold when you find them.

It's also important to have friends who are different from me, not for the sake of diversity, but because we have so much to learn from one another and that is what makes life interesting. 

I also think it would be delightful to be friends with my neighbors to the point where our homes are open to one another for spontaneous meals and movies and hang out time. I haven't really had that since college.

 

3. Hospitable Home

I love entertaining, whether dinner parties or getting a group together for a show or to go dancing. This is what I was known for through most of my 20s. I still had people over here and there when I lived in Nashville but the way my house was set up wasn't conducive for entertaining. This is a priority for wherever I live next. I want people to feel relaxed and cared for when they come over, whether popping by for tea or eating a meal.

I also want to have a guest room for both short-term and long-term visitors. (It's even on my Life List.) This is even more important to me after the past year of living with dear friends. Their hospitality has changed my life for the better in ways big and small. I would love to be able to bestow that same gift on someone(s) else some day.

 

4. Safe, Navigable City

As a single woman, I am always aware of my surroundings, even more so now that I use public transportation on an almost daily basis. I can't afford not to be. At the same time, I'm not afraid of walking by myself. I'm simply smart about it. I'm aware.

Some day, Safeher will be in every city and I will rejoice. In the meantime, I do my best to get to where I need to be and I give thanks and praise for areas with a decent amount of parking. 

 

5. Regular Travel

There are still so many places I want to explore and so many places I want to go back to and so many friends I still need to visit. It's been 10 years since I went to Ireland and I cannot believe I haven't been back yet. There are still 20 states I need to check off. Don't even get me started on how many road trips I've dreamed up! I have yet to visit France, Italy, and Germany, even though my major goal in college was to study abroad. Oh, the sadness of dreams deferred! I think that's why regular travel is such a priority for me. I'm still making up for lost time.