Love Lounge: Six Types of Crushes

If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s CRUSH. Dating experience may elude me and I may be naive when it comes to The One, but that thing known as crushing? Oh yeah, I’ve totally elevated it to an art form. I’m exceptional at it.

Really, I am. I’ve had plenty of experience.

(Side note: As I’m writing this, Mandy Moore’s Crush just came on Pandora. Is this a coincidence? Oh, I think not. I mean, I did spend hours in my room belting out this song as a wee teenager, so there’s that…)

Anyway, if crushing were an Olympic event, I’d easily take home heaps of gold medal. Every single time. In fact, I’m such a pro that I’ve come up with this handy-dandy little list! Because when you really think about it, can’t crushes be easily categorized? So with that in mind, here are six types of crushes that never fail to get my heart all a-flitter…

Older/Younger Crush
Let’s start with a classic, shall we? With this crush, age really is just a number. It doesn’t matter if they’re 10 years older or 10 years younger. Never mind all the “hey, it’s grandpa!” or “is he your son?” jokes; these crushes steal your heart in one fell swoop. Hook line and sinker. I think we all know where I stand with this one…cougar, anyone??


The “OMG, but we’re friends” Crush
We’ve all been there — you know, the moment you want that innocent friendship to be SO MUCH MORE. Maybe you’ve been best friends your whole life or just met recently, but your friend? Oh, yes, you’re suddenly seeing them in a whole new light and it’s sort of scary. I mean, just ask Joey and Dawson about this one, right?


The Celebrity Crush
C’mon, we’ve all got one. Perhaps you’re afraid to admit it for fear of being ridiculed, but celebrities are the perfect objects of our displaced affection. They’re at a distance, forever unreachable and safe. You never have to worry about the fall out or some scary, awkward repercussions. They at once can be anything and everything you want them to be. So, go ahead and crush to your heart’s content!

The Wrong Crush
Maybe it’s liking someone at the absolute wrong time in your life. Or maybe it’s having a crush on the wrong person — your BFF’s sibling, your boss, someone’s who’s already married, your professor. It’s clear that you SHOULD NOT be having these types of feelings and yet…there they are. At every turn. They may have come out of nowhere, but it seems like they’re not going away any time soon.

(Side note: And now, Britney’s Toxic just came on Pandora. I’m starting to see a pattern today…yeah, that nude model lifeguard was probably pretty toxic to my innocent teenage self…)

Could Be Crush
You see this person every day — maybe he’s the Starbucks barista or the person who’s always at the gym at the same time you are. You both head toward the same treadmill. Cue the sappy music. It all sort of feels like kismet — a sign from the Love Gods. You even find yourself fantasizing about what the future could be — a quaint little cottage in the country with a pick-up in the driveway and the scampering of little feet throughout the house. That’s the beauty of this crush — they could be anything. And you’re just dying to find out.

The Opposite Crush
AKA as The “What?” Crush because let’s be real here — you never did see this one coming. They came out of left field, with their dark, brooding personality and their carefree attitude. What is going on, you wonder? This isn’t the type of person you usually go for. You’d think you’d be frightened or something, but, strangely, you’re not. You’re sort of intrigued to see where it all leads. Translation: It could be a wild ride. A very wild ride indeed.


What crushes would you add to the list, friends? Who has caught your eye over the years??? Did it surprise you? Or leave you even more confused than before?? xoxo

P.S. Remember my crushes on fictional characters and medical residents? Plus, the Don Draper Syndrome and the Peter Pan Complex! :)

My Essay on The Establishment: “How To Support A Loved One With PTSD”

When I discovered The Establishment, the amazing women’s site that launched last year, I knew I wanted to be a part of it somehow. And as luck would have it, I got my chance today when my first piece went live. I wrote “How To Support A Loved One With PTSD” in honor of PTSD Awareness Day and even though this is a topic I’ve written about before, it was a great experience to think about PTSD at this time in my life.

How did it feel? In a word: empowering. It made me feel strong. It made me feel like I was facing an aspect of my grief head-on — not cowering or running from it or even hiding in the corner. I was calling it out, forcing it to face me and realizing that, for as much as I get frustrated and anxious sometimes, I really have come a long way since those early, dark days.
Here’s an excerpt of the essay, which is one of the longer pieces I’ve written lately…

I’d started seeing a psychiatrist and therapist shortly after his passing to help manage my anxiety and grief. But then the anxiety grew even more acute—with the power to transport me back to the most traumatic experience of my life, no matter how much time had passed. Especially in the direct wake of my father’s passing, when my grief was its most raw and jagged, anything seemed to set me off. The vivid scenes of the hours and days after my father’s death would replay on a loop in my head. Over and over. It was like a nightmarish home movie that I couldn’t turn off.

I would learn that these types of PTSD responses are common among those who’ve lost a loved one to suicide. I was suffering from what is known as complicated grief, the type of grief that occurs after “an unexpected or violent death, such as death from a car accident, or the murder or suicide of a loved one.” PTSD and complicated grief often go hand-in-painful-hand.

When my post-traumatic stress symptoms began, I felt helpless and totally out of control for the first time in my life. Until I learned about the disorder, I had no idea what was happening to me, which only intensified my grief and anxiety. Thankfully, I’ve seen some shifts in the public’s perception of mental illness and PTSD in recent years, and this move toward understanding symptoms and treatment—and away from stigma—has benefited sufferers.

Still, it’s been a battle. In addition to seeing a psychiatrist and taking antidepressants, I’ve been in therapy for the last decade. This has been life-changing in helping me confront my feelings and issues surrounding my father’s suicide. But although I’ve come a long way, I know PTSD is something I’ll struggle with for the rest of my life.
And unless you’ve experienced it firsthand, helping someone with the disorder can feel like trying to navigate a minefield without a map—especially given our society’s tendency to push people to “just get over it,” which can make those suffering feel the need to hide what they’re going through.

You can read the full essay here and I’d love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to email me anytime at mellow1422@aol.com and let’s chat! And of course, feel free to share my essay on Facebook, Twitter or even your local refrigerator. If you share on Twitter, be sure to tag me @melissablake so we can connect! I can’t wait to hear from you! Love you all… xoxo

In fact, The Establishment is running an entire series on PTSD, full of honest and informative stories from other women who’ve been there. Be sure to read all of them here!

Tuesday Tunes: Hanson’s “With You In Your Dreams”

Editor’s Note: Song lyrics denoted in bold italics.

The year was 1997, and it was summertime. August, to be exact. I had just turned 16 and on a shopping spree to spend some of my birthday money, I found myself browsing the aisles of the local record store — remember those ancient places? You know, stores filled with rows upon rows of actual, physical CDs? I know, you don’t have to tell me; those certainly were the good old days. Anyway, as I was looking around, I spotted them. It was a transcendent moment if a teenager was capable of having one. I can still remember every detail of that CD. It was orange and had three boys staring pensively at the camera. I could just tell they were deep in thought, contemplating the philosophical issues of the day. Oh, yeah, they were on to something. And I wanted in on it too.

Hanson.

Who were these boys? I’d never heard of them, but I suddenly couldn’t wait to get that CD home and pop it in my disc-man. As luck would have it, we had a family vacation coming up. It was the perfect opportunity to bring that CD along and listen to it in the car on the way to Michigan for my cousin’s wedding. And listen we did. I’m talking about having it on repeat for hours on end, much to the eye-rolls and chagrin of my parents. But did I care? Heck no. It only took one listen and I was in love with those boys?

Hanson’s “With You In Your Dreams”
From Middle of Nowhere

I’d loved my fair share of boy bands in the past, but Isaac, Taylor and Zac were different. So much different. You can keep your Backstreet Boys and N*sync any day of the week. I mean, they were OK if you just wanted something cool to dance around and bob your head to. But the brothers Hanson? They were musician — in the truest sense of the word. They had something to say, something very real, about life and love. Their tunes made you feel something, and I’m not just talking about feeling your heart swoon every time Taylor hit those high notes. While I love all their songs, there’s one that has always touched me on a deeper level — and it’s only come to mean more to me in recent years.

If I’m gone when you wake up
Please don’t cry
And if I’m gone when you wake up
It’s not goodbye
Don’t look back at this time as a time
Of heartbreak and distress
Remember me, remember me
‘Cause I’ll be with you in your dreams

The boys often sang about the speed of life, how it never slows down and how we usually don’t notice just how fast it’s gone until after it’s too late. I admit that I’d never spent much time thinking about those sorts of things growing up. Time? It just was. And life? It was just something that you, well, lived. There didn’t seem to be anything too complicated or earth-shattering about that, as far as I could tell. I always thought all the people I loved would be here forever. Call it naive, but part of me must have thought they had some sort of superpower or some kind of superhuman ability. Honestly, I didn’t think anything would ever changed. I liked the way things were and if things could just stay like that for all of time, I’d be more than content. I was happy. I had the people I loved all around me and I felt lucky. I couldn’t ask for anything else.

And then, when I started losing everyone who meant everything to me — first my grandmother, then my father, my uncle and then my grandfather — I didn’t know how to deal. At all. I just couldn’t seem to make any sort of sense in the madness and grief. What did it all mean? Why did this have to happen at all? What happened? Where did they all go? One day they were here and the next day? They were just gone. They just disappeared.

Don’t cry, I’m with you
Don’t cry, I’m by your side
Don’t cry, I’m with you
Don’t cry, I’m by your side


And though my flesh is gone, whoa
I’ll still be with you at all times
And although my body’s gone, oh
I’ll be there to comfort you at all times

I did want to cry. All the time, actually. So many emotions were flooding my head and hijacking my heart. I didn’t know what to do. The people I wanted to talk to the most were no longer here. Days and months went by, and slowly — sometimes painfully so — I felt them coming back to me. Not literally, of course, but I felt them with me. Every time I’d look in the mirror or say something they used to say, I knew they were here.

To my surprise, that realization was an unbelievable comfort. I’d said goodbye, but maybe my loved ones would always be with me in my heart. We think that the absence of a physical presence means that you have to say goodbye and forget forever, but maybe it doesn’t have to be so cut and dry like that. I’d wanted them to always be with me, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt they all were. Even now, so many years later, I like to think they’re all still looking down on me. I hope they’re proud of the woman I’ve become.

My Essay on Redbook: “After My Father’s Suicide, It Was a Cat That Saved Us”

In the midst of my to-do list work last week, I wrote “After My Father’s Suicide, It Was a Cat That Saved Us” about — surprise, surprise! — Harry! It’s not an exaggeration to say that he saved us after my father died, especially my mom, and I’ve always marveled at how one tiny kitty could bring so much love, comfort and joy into our lives. Cat people unite, right?

Here’s an excerpt of the essay, which was also picked up by Dr. Oz The Good Life…

As time went on, though, I began to notice a change—slowly and quietly at first, just as Harry himself had so quietly made his presence known to us when he first arrived. We settled into a comfortable routine, and it was the same routine every night: We’d eat dessert, watch an episode or two of Frasier and by the closing credits, Harry would be sound asleep in my mother’s lap, his head resting softly in the crook of her arm. I remember glancing over and just taking in the peacefulness of it all. There was my mother, a woman grieving the loss of her husband, calmly rocking our seven-pound feline friend. Back and forth. Back and forth. There was a sort of rhythm and cadence to it that made it almost hypnotic—a sense of order amid the chaos that had become our lives.

It was our new ritual. A moment of comfort after a long day. A time when the weight of grief could be lifted from our shoulders, even if only for a few minutes.
We were so worried about how we’d take care of Harry, how we’d make his life better, that we completely overlooked something equally important: He healed us too. 

Even in the depths of our grief and with death all around us, we managed to experienced life again with a sense of renewed energy — a new sense of hope and faith in something that we desperately needed. Harry brought a sliver of light to our dark world at a time when we needed it the most.



You can read the full essay here and I’d love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to email me anytime at mellow1422@aol.com and let’s chat! And of course, feel free to share my essay on Facebook, Twitter or even your local refrigerator. If you share on Twitter, be sure to tag me @melissablake so we can connect! I can’t wait to hear from you! Love you all… xoxo

Ms. Bear on Her 38th Wedding Anniversary

It’s June 10th again! On this day 38 years ago, Brian and I were married. When you are a widow (and I imagine it’s the same for widowers), anniversaries are certainly a bittersweet day. I remember the joy of my wedding day and the promise that each tomorrow held. I didn’t know that we wouldn’t even make it to our 25th anniversary before Brian died.

Such a happy day, and look at how young we all were!

If I could give one piece of advice to the newly married, it would be to take that part about sickness and health very seriously. When I got married, I had no idea that Brian would get so sick and die so young, and that it would all happen in just a mere five-month period! I know I didn’t give that a thought as we recited our vows, or maybe I did, but in the way of the young, I never thought it would happen to us! But, when you think about it, each couple will have one partner die first (unless they die at the same time, which is really statistically unlikely!).

Anyway, this June 10th, I decided to bask in the happy memories and let the regrets go. Happy Anniversary to Brian and me…it was a ride well worth taking!

And, our greatest collaboration and accomplishment was getting these 2 wonderful girls!

Well, today is the last day of my guest posting on Melissa’s blog. I have a newfound respect for her and will be glad to go back to my regular life next week. Melissa will be back bright and early on Monday morning, so make sure you come back! Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!