Atlanta is all about the tennis. Seriously, y’all. When I moved here, people would tell me tennis is the best way to get to know people. I resisted for about a year, and then curiosity got the best of me and I picked up that racquet. Truth be told, I love it. It’s a sport with outfits, camaraderie, competition, and even cocktails. What’s not to love?? Well…..the mental part…the mental part is hard. It’s just Becky and herself in her head….that part is not my favorite. That part where your worth as a human being sits on the balance scale of life based on how well you played that point. Not my favorite.

There may have been some hidden hot tears the last time I played because….well because I want that gold star–I want to matter on the court–I want everyone to want me on their team–I want to freakin win to feel I have some value. 95% of the time, I just want to hit some balls with my friends and have some fun, but something happens in that 5% where my value hinges on placing that yellow fuzzy ball in just the right place for the point.

Enter Love-30. The point where you can still be in it, or you can set yourself up for a loss of that game. Love-30 is where the pressure is on. Every action and reaction counts. You want to have more games with a W in the set than your opponent–we are definitely keeping score, here. You’ve got your head in the game, you are ready to get back in it. The ball comes over the net into your sweet spot and you hit a perfect return right in the corner on the line–it’s a beautiful thing. You are cheering in your heart that you got this……… and your opponent calls OUT! What The Everlasting Fudgesickle?? Seriously?

You pause and look at your opponent and tilt your head like a confused golden retriever….willing yourself to not ask them if they were wearing their glasses…..because that was clearly IN. They immediately go on the defensive and say it was just inches outside the line….and now you know they feel guilty….

Next point – game point. Same set up, same placement on the line. Surely they owe you now…..and you hear another call of OUT leave their lips. Your heart starts to race at the injustice of it all. You smile and laugh and say as sweetly as you can, “You know the lines are in, right??” That goes over like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, your entire focus becomes getting even–righting that wrong. How dare she call my perfect shots OUT? Does she know the rules or is she doing this on purpose to get ahead of me. A few points later, her ball comes whizzing by landing on the line and you hear the words, OUT come out of your lips. You feel guilty for a second, but then assuage your conscience with the knowledge she called some of your good balls out earlier, so you shouldn’t feel guilty here.

When the game ends, you shake hands but head over to your teammates to commiserate the bad calls in your game. You would have won if she called the game correctly. You roll your eyes and claim to be the bigger person–comparing her integrity with yours and you feel morally superior. She may have won the game, but she made some questionable calls to do so (conveniently forgetting my own revenge calls).

Why am I giving my power to another person to influence my personal integrity? Why do I have to compare my calls versus her calls? Why can’t I just call the game consistently with my values regardless of how she plays hers? Can I enjoy the game even if they made some questionable calls? Am I giving her the power over my attitude for the rest of the afternoon?

I asked my Croatian tennis coach one time how to handle these sorts of situations–when they are calling shot after shot out and you know they are good. His answer was profound: Becky, in that situation, just stop hitting the ball so close to the line. Problem solved. But….But….But…. Dangit…. it’s the tennis version of Becky, you control you: how you play, how you react, how you win. If I am annoyed with the out calls, then I just hit the ball more in the blue where it can’t be called out. I adjusted my playing boundary and that’s that. It’s simple, but it’s so freakin hard–sometimes I’d just rather not work on me, and have them play in a way I deem fair.

When an opponent plays well and the ball whizzes past me, why can’t I just say Great Shot! instead of telling myself I suck because she beat me on that point? Can I play well and she also play well and we have a good game together? Can I give her room to be imperfect in her calls and chalk it up to that’s how she saw it instead of assigning motive to her calls? Can she win the game, and I also know I played well and feel good about that?

Divorce is hard and dealing with an X is a lot like dealing with those calls on the court. If the point goes in his favor, then I’m seen as lacking in my own mind. My feelings, actions, and words are sometimes (many times) a result of his actions–even if those actions have nothing (zip-zero-zilch) to do with me.

I had in my mind how things should be with my friends, my kids, my family, my new life. I am building something new–how exciting is that (and how scary!)!! Why is it that I compare my life with what the X is doing? It’s almost like if he’s thriving, it means my new life is less fabulous.

If he’s dating Claudia Schiffer, it means I don’t measure up. He’s found better and now I’m going to go eat a pint of Salted Caramel Gelato….deflated, devalued. The next day, I step on the scale and lament a pint of Gelato somehow equals three more pounds….and I start to hate my closet, hate my body, hate my choices. Who is going to want this gelato-fueled body when I am ready to start dating??

If my friends have a good time with him at a neighborhood concert, that means I’m seen as lacking because they are spending time with him…. Do I stop and ask myself if these are true statements or do I just go down the rabbit hole of despair and wreck my weekend? I just want them to choose me–and they DO choose me. Do I let the one time they hang out with The X mar the times we just had together?

Why do I compare? Why is his gain my loss? If I have true needs, then I can act accordingly, but to create fictional Becky needs because I suddenly see he has something I don’t is kinda messed up. Do I want to go hear a Tom Petty tribute band 30 minutes away on a Saturday when it’s raining and the place only serves craft beer—um no. But why is it that I’m upset because he’s there and I’m not?

Why I am still giving another person the power to wreck my day/weekend/month? Why does the fear of what he’s going to tell people make me anxious. But what if he tells them things which are not true, and my friends believe it and look at me differently? That’s no different than worrying about the call on a two-inch white line.

We talked to Coach about the pressure of that last game–and how having a partner whiff the last point is hard. Coach pointed out how many points it took to get to the final point. At any time, the game could have changed if I did my job better. It’s not about the last point, it’s about *all* the points. In other words, I need to concentrate on playing my own part to the best of my ability–control the things I can control. I don’t need to worry about the what-ifs before or after the game. I need to improve my own game and results will follow.

Coach, have you been talking to my therapist, Lilibet?

For me right now, the social aspect of being divorced is the most challenging–especially since I am in the middle of my gap year. I went from living in a social neighborhood and seeing my friends often (even by chance walking on the sidewalk) and now live in a high rise in the city (which I love), traveling, and working. It’s hard. I’m an extrovert and I miss the rhythm of being with my friends. In my mind, he’s at their houses every day, laughing, enjoying life, being lifted in a chair over their heads proclaiming All Hail King X-Hubs and everyone saying, Becky Who???? He’s winning and I am losing. Somehow in my mind, he’s getting something I’m not–time. And it stings worse than a hive of yellow jackets.

But when I examine those fears, they are not set in reality–and even if they were and all those things were true: then what? Do I wallow (I’m such a good wallower), or do I take some serious inventory of my own life? To be honest, I have a pretty good life. I travel, have amazing friends, a thriving business and surrounded by all my favorite things. I am pretty freakin happy–many people remark on how happy I look when they see me. Yes, he has the grass is greener suburban lawn, but I have so many colors of the rainbow, too (and I don’t have to mow–woot!).

Where I get tripped up is when I begin to compare. When I compare, I start acting differently based on how I perceive someone else’s actions or motives are affecting me or I perceive someone (an X, a nemesis) is getting more of something than I am–something I value (like friend time).

Typically, I am fair to a fault, but in tennis, when I start making line calls in a way I might not usually do, I am allowing their actions to change my consequent actions. I try to be kind always. When I make a snipey comment about someone based on how I perceive the situation–that’s not who I am, and I am allowing them to change me. If someone diminishes my value and I’m looking around for the waiter–tequila por favor!!! Did I want the tequila, or am I changing my “needs” because of the actions of someone else? How many times do I pivot simply out of response to someone else? How many times do I justify my behavior by their original actions.

But–What if? What if I didn’t engage with that line of thinking. What if I reach out to my friends and schedule time with them and not compare it with the time The X has. What if I love my life so much, I wish him well and just say Great Shot! when he does something that makes him happy. What if I refuse to examine what he’s getting under the Microscope of Fairness and look at what I have in comparison?

If I am feeling lonely, I should reach out to friends. If I am feeling insecure about my looks: work out, have a spa day, buy a new lipstick. Do I need a new car? Then tighten my budget and save up for it. I should take actions based on my real needs–needs I have on my own without any comparative input. Be the change I need in my own life–don’t wait on others to serve it up to me. And certainly don’t just wallow at the injustice for wallowing’s sake–I don’t have time for that. It doesn’t matter what they have–what matters is what I have in my life.

Comparison is the root of unhappiness. Brené Brown writes in Atlas of the Heart: Comparison is the crush of conformity from one side and competition from the other–it’s trying to simultaneously fit in and stand out. Comparison says, ‘Be like everyone else, but better.’…….Comparing ourselves to others leads us to fear, anger, shame, and sadness. She goes on to explain how we get to choose how we are going to let those comparative thoughts affect us. When those automatic ranking thoughts creep in, we need to be aware they are knocking on the door of our internal value. She suggests a strategy of mentally cheering people on, saying a great job! and then moving on with your task at hand.

How much better would our lives be if we live our own lives outside of the comparison of the life our Xs are living? What if we just wished them well and moved on? What if we didn’t keep score with his relationship with our friends, our kids, our circles? I don’t mean just lip service to make us seem like the bigger person to our friends, but actual mental work to cast aside those thoughts and create the life we want–the life that makes us happy.

I’ve have a lot of work to do in this area, but I’m getting there.

Up Next: Why Being a Single Parent is Hard – OG Diva Post and The Grande Pity Party