Birthday Reflection
March 15. Day #2. I spent the day with Ted yesterday on my birthday. We got into a fight, and he left before my birthday dinner. We were supposed to have dinner with my best friend Kimberly and her husband Scott. But Ted and I occasionally do this: we argue, each holds our stance, dig our heels in, and don’t budge. Then, while stuck in this state, we continue to escalate. For this showdown to end, one of us has to step out of our stuck shoes, take a breath, and suggest a softer approach. On this day, neither of us did that. We stubbornly held onto our stance of being right, and he left.
I don’t blame Ted or necessarily think this is a bad thing. I believe it’s a fantastic opportunity for learning, softening, exploring, and healing. I actually think that’s the magic of a relationship when two people are committed and not going anywhere. They can bring up and act however they need to (without anyone truly getting hurt) to uncover what needs healing. I know when I get mad at Ted, something within me is triggered—it’s not about Ted. It’s about something within me that needs healing. People who struggle in relationships often point the finger at their partner, blaming them for their feelings. But the other person is just triggering something internal that is ready to be healed. Many people don't understand this, and some even divorce over it, but it's a gift.
The beauty lies in being with someone who understands this—or at least is open to considering it—and is willing to work on whatever arises in the relationship. Ted is that man. He knows we’re both imperfect and have stuff to work on. We both know we love and care deeply for each other. Sometimes, Ted softens, and sometimes, I do. But on this day, my 59th birthday, neither of us softened. And it’s okay. Why? Because that’s what happened. It’s obviously what needed to happen. What I’ve learned in my 59 years is that being at peace with "what is" is key to a happy life. Why argue with reality? Reality always wins. Fully accepting what is has been an enormous gift I’ve given myself (when I remember to apply this principle). I'm not saying I always love how I feel or what's happening in that moment, but I know it's supposed to happen because it is happening. The magical thing is, if I don’t like what happened, I can make a new choice, work on myself, make amends, or approach it differently to avoid repeating the same situation. Disagreements are fertile soil for positive self-change and trying something new.
After Ted left, I thought about canceling my birthday dinner. Then I realized that wouldn't be fair to my friend Kimberly, who I adore, and thoughtfully scheduled the dinner. I have a dear friend named Larry. He was my boss 30 years ago, and we've remained close friends. We reconnected when his wife died. After attending the funeral, I called him for dinner because I knew he was deeply grieving. His wife was an amazing woman, and they’d been married for many years. We were both happy to reconnect and now make a point of getting together regularly for dinner, visits, or pickleball.
After Ted left, I called Larry and asked if he'd join us for my birthday dinner. He said, “I’m available and would love to.” Larry knew Kimberly and Scott from previous dinners together. Larry and I attend events together unless he’s dating someone or I have a boyfriend. He's a New Yorker, a true gentleman, charismatic, and I adore him. He’s such a good person. I've never been romantically attracted to him, but I love and cherish our friendship.
It was nice spending my birthday evening with them. We ate at Craig’s in West Hollywood, which used to be my favorite spot. I enjoyed a perfectly cooked medium-rare filet for my birthday dinner and a wonderful sundae dessert—no cocktails, but plenty of good conversation and laughs. Tomorrow, I will hear Ted out and explore with him a new way to handle what we went through. I’m grateful for it all and for another trip around the sun. Thank you, God!