Stories – oh how I love them! Especially when they catch my heart, cause me to invest, get my heart pounding with intrigue….and compel me to look differently at the world. Stories are the reason I’m a reader….a writer….and even work in the travel industry. Stories sell…..and I find myself buying whatever the stories in my mind are selling–hook, line, and sinker.

As a kid, I loved nothing more than the teacher revealing a photo prompt to create a story–gosh I loved those assignments!! The burgeoning writer in me would gaze at the photo and fill in the gaps to find the story: typically one of a misunderstood villain who just wanted to be liked…..which took a princess with a big heart and sensitive soul to give him a makeover and re-introduce him to the village–and the kingdom is saved and all is right with the world….

Houston, we have a problem….and I see a pattern…. since the third grade…. sigh….

What makes me a rockstar storyteller–filling in those gaps with intel I’ve gleaned from my overactive imagination–wreaks havoc in my personal life. I have *three* pieces of information, and suddenly I’m off to the races with the entire story written in my mind. Like y’all…the level of detail is staggering…. I mean I should work for the FBI in my clue searching skills (just ask the chickadees…..who were busted for throwing a party….simply from the clue of one piece of popcorn nestled between the fridge and the counter space in the kitchen….). If something doesn’t make sense in my mind, I’ll keep shuffling around options until I have the most likely scenario…. BUT it’s fiction….the gaps are just made up stories.

Like, if you’ve ever seen the Ten Commandments (gotta love Charlton Heston in that role), and God split the red sea and they escaped captivity….and then Moses in his red robe and staff finery goes up the mountain to get the tablets of the Next Right Thing… it’s a moment….God is writing on the tablets with his finger, and Charlton’s hair is turning bright white and magically rock-star long…and then you look down on the people at the foot of the mountain…. they were bored, they were afraid….they didn’t know what to do… after all, in movie-time, Moses was up there 90 seconds, when in reality, it was freaking six weeks…. so what did the people do?????? They created this Calf-God thing in order to get some direction of what to do next. I mean they CREATED the Golden Calf, called it a God, then thanked IT for leading them out of Egypt and asked IT (the created thing) what to do next.

Now before I judge the bovine party-goers even more harshly, I have to ask myself how many times do I do that? How many times do I CREATE a storyline in my head and then ask IT what I should do based on the facts I CREATED. y’all….

In my I’m-Dating-But-Not-Really-Dating adventures, I am actively reminded of my tendency to fill in those gaps–it’s kind of my M-O–filling gaps since 1978. I take every piece of intel and weave it into the story: him being emotionally unavailable turns into a story of how he’s been hurt–and just needs the right woman to love him…. watching guys pat his back at the end of the soccer game and smiling at each other turns into a long story of how he has this amazing group of guy friends that he can lean on, communication silence turns into he’s a rockstar at work…OR that he just likes me SO much that he doesn’t want to rush things (my personal favorite)…

A good morning text turns into signs he’s investing in me….when in reality, dude is just saying good morning: perhaps he’s bored, perhaps he’s curious if I’ll text back, perhaps I’m one of a string of options….but to me, sigh….it’s romance, and puppies, and flowers on a spring day….. and I’m off looking at the festivals we can attend together in the fall…..with pre-fabricated memories of us dancing together in the moonlight, toasting at the top of the Eiffel Tower, wearing matching costumes at a halloween party….and I don’t even want a boyfriend much less the commitment of matching outfits….

A heart on my last Insta post turns me into Sally Fields: He likes me…he really likes me!!! I now have FIVE pieces of intel, and he’s now the most amazing guy ever–and I’d be a a fool to let such a perfect man get away…. and like, I don’t even know what kind of car he drives…..

It’s not him–It’s Me…Hi, I’m the problem it’s ME!

When I learned of my X’s (1.0) affair with my friend, I was devastated (obviously)…. The hardest part of my healing, though, was getting those made up images out of my mind. Oh I had soap opera-worthy candle-lit scenes with declarations of love, fireplace sex-scenes where everyone looked perfect…the ecstasy, the mood music, what she wore, what she said….the romance…. When in reality, they were having quickies in a broom closet and in the backseat of a minivan parked in front of a Tractor Supply store…… Boom! Shoulder Shrug.

My stories haunted me….but the reality wasn’t as Danielle Steele as I made it out to be.

Going through a recent divorce (2.0) activated my Gap Filling tendencies. After the divorce was final, the His and Hers friends thing got really, really complicated. Especially since he lived in our old neighborhood, and I moved to the city. He was there and I was not, and it was really easy for people to pick him for social activities. Bring on the Gaps! When I learned I wasn’t invited, I start filling in the informative gaps about why they didn’t ask me. Did my invitation get lost in the mail, do they not want to be my friend anymore, do they not care about me…..did my X help put me in their Burn Book????? If they don’t answer my text, or my voicemail—are they giving me hints??? and I start pouring over every conversation, every sliver of intel to give me a clue as to where I mis-stepped. I’m filling in the gaps with the best stories I can come up with…..

And it can be devastating.

It can be devaluing.

I second guess myself.

I start listening to those voices who say I’m not enough….that I’m too much…. that I’m alone….

And when I can’t bear it another minute…

I hide.

And then you get one of two Beckys…. (1) the people pleaser Becky who will beckon you back into the fold to earn your love/friendship or (2) the IDGAF Becky who will ignore you *more* than you ignore me….who will pretend your existence never happened…. I won’t hate you…you.are.just.invisible.

So….I’m working on option 3 – The Becky who doesn’t have to earn love/friendship. Who stops the noise inside her head clamoring for more details (real or imaginary) and let’s them choose without her jumping in to control it (and dear heart, both 1 and 2 are totally forms of control). Option 3 Bex allows people to be fully themselves without my intervention and cares about who they are–but also isn’t going to invest myself in a fictional relationship–one I’ve created between the gaps. That’s no place for a girl like me to exist….I got BIG things to do…. and a BIG love to offer to both my friends and IDK maybe a person….maybe….

I need to ask myself:

(1) Is the story true–is the intel true–is the thought true? Like really true and not just an “it feels true.”

(2) What am I choosing to believe here? What does God say about it? Am I pinning my worth on a return text or a like emoji….or an invitation…. Are their actions and issues painting my value in untrue colors? Am I buying into a fictional version of myself that is not reflective of who I am–like that tape that in on repeat in your head? Am I buying into a fictional version of someone else? Is it true? Is it trustworthy? Feelings are not good indicators of truth–feelings sway, climb and dip–they are good passengers, but are terrible drivers.

(3) What choices do I need to make moving forward? Do I need to adjust anything? Am I going to believe in my value as a loved daughter of the creator of the universe, or am I going to believe the story I just freakin made up in my head? I get to choose…. Is this person someone I should allow access to the deepest places of my heart–can they handle the responsibility of having the key to my most sacred rooms, or are they just Let’s Have a Margarita on Friday Night kind of friends?

Although my imagination is one of my favorite things about myself, it doesn’t get to be in the driver’s seat of IRL stories. I just need to let the gaps be the gaps, and not break out the Scooby Doo Machine to solve it. It’s a hard thing to do, but I’m up for the challenge.

Cheers!

Next: Sand Dunes