For many men (and women) it seems the word, relationship has become a “bad” word. Remember when you were in grade school, worried about getting caught using one of George Carlin’s “7 Words You Can Never Say on Television?” These words were loaded. You discussed them with your friends. You questioned their meaning. You practiced saying them, hoping you wouldn’t get caught, or that you had enough zeal, zest  behind each one so that the syllables would roll off your tongue easily.  Flawlessly.

And in this same way, I hear women questioning the use of the “r” word.  Relationship.  Wondering if merely mentioning it will make a man run.  Wondering if by stating that they are looking to be in a relationship with a man, the person whom they are dating will perceive this as vile, lewd, inappropriate and plain ol’ icky.

Alert: The word, “relationship,” is, in fact, not a bad word!

There is absolutely no need to avoid this word when you are dating someone whom you are beginning to care about.  However, it must be used correctly.  Thus, it is imperative that in using the word “relationship” in conversation you remember the following guidelines:

1.  After approximately one month of dating consistently, it is appropriate to let your date know that you are  ”now in a place in your life where finding a committed, long-term relationship has become one of the values which you hold as important.” In communicating your values, you are now sharing something with your date that will enable him or her to know who you are on a deeper level.  Telling him that relationship is important to you, is akin to telling him that you place value on things like family, travel, or spirituality.  Notice this:  In using these words you are NOT telling your prospective partner that you want a relationship with him, right now.  Instead, you are merely checking in with him to open up a conversation in which you collect new information — does this person have the same value as you regarding relationship?  Thus, the world relationship is not “loaded.”  Instead, discerning if you share the same values is merely information you collect in the process of “Data Dating,” which is the time spent getting to know someone  in which you collect data about him/her while connecting through the shared experiences you have on dates together.

2.  DO not ask him if he is want to be in a “relationship.” It is true what the dating gurus say, that men will often vanish when you bring up the word relationship.   However this vanishing often occurs when you ask him if he wants to be in a relationship with you using language like, “where is this going,?”  or  ”how do you feel about us?”  Notice that in these examples you are no longer talking about values.  Instead, you are, in fact, putting him “on the spot,” as if you are demanding to know what he feels about you now, in this moment.  Don’t do this.

3.  Men are attracted to women who are confident. In sharing your value of relationship, it communicates that you are excited about this part of your life, that you hope to find love;  that you want to experience intimacy, commitment, passion and love in new, deeper ways than you have ever before.  As a result of sharing this excitement, you vibrate at a high energetic frequency.  You emanate confidence.  You know what you want.  This is hot!  Men find this attractive. And while the man with whom you are speaking might not be at this place in his life, he will know that he has attracted a smart, confident woman. And that you are someone who he can respect.  And in this, you are a person who dates with dignity.

4.  He might vanish.  So what? Dating with Dignity Man Panelists nationwide report that when a man does the “vanishing act” after he has spent time with you, it is not because he is second guessing your amazing-ness!  In fact, when he disappears it is often because he has realized that he may not be in the place to be the man he wants to be — the man who can do what is necessary to have a successful relationship.  Men need to be feel that they can confidently provide.  That they can protect the woman they are with when necessary.  If they do not feel settled, confident or able to show up as men, according to the definition they have created for themselves, they could pull back and withdraw.  A man who is emotionally mature will be able to communicate this phenomenon adeptly when it comes up in the aforementioned discussion regarding relationship readiness. Never fear.  You have attracted a man who is self-aware.  Bravo.  And, now that you have discerned that you are in different places in your lives, it is clear that it is time to move on to create space for the man who is ready to have a relationship.

5.  Take responsibility.  Ditch the “Cool Girl” mentality. It is appropriate  and necessary to have needs as well as expectations.  Stand in the power of knowing you are ready to love, to be loved whole-heartedly.  It is an exciting time, wrought with possibility.  There are men — one man –circling the universe looking for you.  Create space.  Let go of your past, the undeserved present, so he can find you. The man who will call you consistently.  His words and actions will match.  He will be excited to spend the weekend with you, longing to see again soon.  He will text you back promptly.  He will not vanish.  He is ready, a man who is not frightened, offended or terrified of the word relationship.

Relationship.

Relationship.

Relationship.

There, I’ve said it.  And remember,  relationship  is NOT a bad word.

By Angelica Martin, Dating With Dignity Marketing Assistant

It’s complicated.

Who hasn’t uttered those two words when confronted with the realization that the perfect man you’ve been dating, with whom you share an intense connection, may not be showing up.

Of course, he’s there. He’s texting, calling you baby, sleeping with you, and maybe even cooking you dinner. You fall asleep in each other’s arms, and you blissfully leave the next morning, more confident than ever in the direction your relationship is heading.

But that’s Tuesday. By Wednesday, he needs to withdraw. By Saturday, your stomach is in knots, wondering where he is and why he hasn’t contacted you. You replay Tuesday’s date over and over again in your mind, looking for some sign, something that you may have missed. Just when you’ve gone over all possible explanations with your girlfriends, and wisely ignored their advice to, “just call him and say hey,” your text message alert goes off:

I miss you.

This may or may not be past 9:00 at night, and more often than not it is past midnight. A smile spreads across your lips, your heart swells, and you scold yourself for being so dramatic. He misses you–he just needed some time. All is right with the world.

Until next week, that is, because this is the pattern. These high-charged shifts between being emotionally available and then withdrawing back into his own little world leave you in a constant state of confused limbo, analyzing what you should or could do to revive Tuesday’s bliss. When a few brave friends question you about his disappearing acts, you respond with:

It’s complicated.

Girl, it is not complicated. This man, this perfect man, for whatever reason, is not in this and probably never was. We can’t do this to ourselves anymore. We can’t pretend we are in relationships with men that are not showing up.

The right person is not enigmatic. The right person shows up, literally and figuratively. The right person calls when he says he’s going to call, and you honestly aren’t left wondering if he will or he won’t. Because he always does. And you will never, ever, have to say, “it’s complicated” with the right person. Because guess what? It’s never complicated. It either is, or it isn’t.

As a coach who tries to be there for her clients during difficult times, I encourage men and women to text or email during the weekends if they need support in living up to the dating/relationship intentions they set for themselves. This weekend was no different.

I have a client, let’s call her Jane, who met a man online a few weeks ago. He had been out of the country since they first “met” online so she had been communicating with him via text and email. During the course of these emails she began to connect with him (let’s call him Brad) because they share similar interests and appear to have the same values. As can be expected, Jane began to really “fall” for Brad, and I thus encouraged her to pull back and wait until he returned to Los Angeles to continue communicating with Brad at length. She didn’t want to engage in a pattern she has which is to begin to see a man as “the one,” before he has even come close to being a candidate for that title.

Once Brad returned to Los Angeles on Thursday, he begin to email and text Jane repeatedly. He didn’t ask her out, however, and Jane grew tired of the emails, telling Brad she wasn’t really a big “fan of texting.” In this text, she also told Brad she was looking forward to speaking with him, and asked him to call her to ” catch up” when he was able. On Saturday, upon returning to her car after her workout, Jane received another text from Brad. As she had both feared– and expected, he hadn’t called her for a date. He sent a text. In fact, Brad apologized in the text for being “last minute,” yet he was hoping she was available to meet for drinks that evening.

Jane was confused and disappointed that Brad had not called. Mostly, however, Jane was afraid because even though she knew she should tell Brad “no,” to the last minute invite via text, her desire to see him was mounting feverishly. It was then that she texted me. We discussed a possible response.

Confidently, Jane replied to Brad texting him, “I already have plans tonight. Call me and let’s make a plan to get together.” xoxo Jane.

A perfect response, given the fact that Brad had ignored her request for a phone call. This text was kind, sweet, polite and communicated the fact that while she was busy, she still was looking forward to meeting him. Once again, it communicated her expectation that he would call.

Moments later Jane texted me to say she felt sick, and that saying no to Brad was, in her words, brutal. Her day became more challenging, as she waited for Brad to call. Again, she texted me to say she was beginning to have doubts about her decisions. She asked me to remind her why she had said no to Brad’s invitation.

I did remind her. I asked Jane what kind of man she wants to have as a partner. In answering she used words like honest, responsible, communicative and loving. I asked her if she felt that Brad had shown these traits in his attempt to meet her. She interrupted me, trying to tell me that in their email exchanges Brad had shown himself to be all of these things. I stopped her mid-sentence.

“Jane,” I said. “It doesn’t matter, really, how Brad showed up for you online or via text. What matters, is this; how is Brad showing up now? Is he, in fact, thus far proving to be a man who is honest, responsible, communicative or loving? Or is he, in actuality, showing up like the other men you have dated, men who have consistently been unavailable, not looking for a long-term committment?

Jane sighed. She was frustrated, angry, and disappointed that Brad might not be who she imagined.

It was 1:37 pm on Saturday when I last texted Jane. I didn’t hear from her again, until Sunday, nearly 24 hours later.

“I wasn’t strong enough, Marni.” she wrote. “I couldn’t do it. I still have so much work to do on myself.”

This time, while she was able to say “no” to Brad (a victory in itself), Jane wasn’t able to follow through on her intention. She discovered it felt horrible to wait. And that, ultimately, the work she needs to do is related to these important new discoveries. When Jane and I have our next session I will remind her that this is just a little mistake. And that mistakes present us with opportunities to learn. Jane learned that when confronted with loneliness and the possibility of losing Brad, even though letting him go might create space for a better match to come into her life, she couldn’t change her behavior. She realized that her fears and the resulting discomfort kept her from doing what was necessary to follow through on her intention.

Bravo Jane. Bravo for trying. Bravo for learning. And bravo for allowing me to share your story so that others can be inspired by your journey.

Have a GREAT week, and for those in Los Angeles, see you at the Dating With Dignity LIVE Ask the Expert Event tonight at 7pm. Until then, keep dating with dignity. It will be worth the effort.

The Problem:
Do you often feel like men pull away, just when things are beginning to get good. Unfortunately, the common reaction to this pull is for women to push. Hard. They feel as if they must try every new thing they can to draw their man back into the relationship.

A Solution:
By developing a greater understanding of the neurochemistry that influences men to stay committed and engaged in your relationship you can stop struggling to keep your man interested. Here’s how:

1. Realize that most men are motivated, excited and happy when their dopamine levels are high. Among other things, low dopamine levels can cause depression, poor attention and focus, and loss of satisfaction. When men do not engage in activities that raise dopamine levels, they are less interested in you, the relationship, or meeting your needs. Once you notices these signs (the pull), you can take specific action to help your man to raise his dopamine levels.

2. Understand what causes dopamine to fall. Dopamine levels can fall due to poor nutrition and sleep, caffeine and alcohol. Unnaturally high levels of stress can also reduce the amount of dopamine in men’s body. Consider if one of these conditions are prominent in your man’s life recently.

3. Help your man raise his dopamine levels. Certain foods such as almonds, dairy products, bananas, and certain seeds such as sesame and pumpkin can help your guy raise his dopamine levels. In addition, encourage him to engage in competitive, adventurous action-oriented activities to raise his dopamine levels. Tell him to spend time with friends. Play Xbox. Watch sports. Or to go surfing, running or play basketball. In short, provide your man with opportunities to spend time in his “man cave” to move back to hormonal equilibrium. Once you encourage your man to take time for himself, he will be more motivated to provide you with what you need.

Once you understand that neurochemistry can impact mood swings and each partner’s willingness to have healthy, optimistic and cooperative feelings, you can stop “pushing” to ensure that your partner maintains an effective equilibrium.

There is much going on behind the scenes at Dating With Dignity to help me fulfill my purpose on this planet, which is to bring more love, light and dignity into the world. Without incredible support from my “behind the scenes” team, it would be difficult for me to share the important tools, strategies and techniques you need to date and participate in relationships successfully. What’s most interesting, and quite honestly, fun, about the team I’ve built, is that they are men. Men who are not only intelligent, respectful, and sensitive, but who date and engage in relationships with dignity. In addition to my number one cheerleader and boyfriend, Jem, there is my Business coach, Mat Boggs, incredibly reliable go-to guy, Aaron, the many Man Panelists I work with who provide COMmentary at Dating With Dignity events, and Jason Miller, the man who is the brilliance behind the vision and execution for making this website come to life.

I intend to introduce them all to you via this blog, and thus today you have the pleasure of getting inside the mind of Jason Miller, Chief Creative Officer of Peaceful Media. Jason has contributed two posts describing how to successfully identify and date “Mr. Elusive.” Mr. Elusive is different from “Mr. Quality Casual,” because he often states he wants a relationship yet isn’t willing to commit to exclusivity. He thrives on girlfriend privileges, often acts the part of boyfriend quite well, but will directly tell you he isn’t comfortable, or ready for commitment. Jason believes, however, that you can engage in a relationship with “Mr. Elusive,” if it is managed properly. I invite your comments.

Read on.

Introducing “Mr. Elusive,” or as Jason refers to himself, the Mountain Unicorn, Mr. Muni.

There is something interesting about the guy in my life who prefers to be called “Mountain-Metro,” yet carries a “Murse,” (the official name of the man-purse). Several years ago, while still spinning in the vortex of Lost Girl hell, I reconnected with Murse through a mutual friend. At 43, Murse still has the hot thing going on big time. He is one hundred percent muscle. When you combine his steady diet of yoga, plus the 100 or so miles per week he logs on his custom-designed bikes, the end result is a twelve-pack plus much more. His ass is well….ridiculous. His biceps brilliant. When combined with Murse’s most tantalizing feature- incredible crystalline blue eyes, Murse is lethal.

Too add spice to his sizzle, Murses lives in Arizona, and is also someone I went to high school with. Now, before your hearts get all atwitter at this possible Classmates.com success story, let me tell you that Murse is the prototype for guys who date “Lost Girls” -a Lost Girl is a woman who may have outgrown the string of one-night-stands, but just can’t seem to shake the “No Dignity Dating” rituals that produce the same result – falling crazy in love with a man who is emotionally unavailable. Six months down the road, while the Lost Girl’s still putting out, he’s told her point blank he isn’t ready to commit. Yet still, the Lost Girl wonders, “Why…why isn’t he my boyfriend?

I spent my first evening with Murse laughing, reminiscing and listening to 70s music, with friends from high school. As I was in a relationship with JohnnyLock, ex-boyfriend, Lost Girl “love –of-my life,” I rebuffed Murse’s charming advances, despite the blue eyes and killer abs. Since then, like the tide, the relationship has ebbed and flowed.

When I returned to Phoenix for Spring Break the following year, the relationship with JohnnyLock had come to its devastating conclusion. Still stinging from John’s rejection, I “sexted” (sex texted) Murse eagerly, thus initiating the hook-up phase of my relationship with Murse. It was simple. When I came to Phoenix we met for drinks, laughed, and hooked up. Despite his invitations to stay the night, I would always leave though, unable to quiet my mind, the harsh grumble of his snoring torture. I had no interest in cuddling, nor the romanticism of the sleepover, and as a veteran Lost Girl, I knew waking at my house was critical to maintaining emotional distance. The relationship was perfect, until one Thanksgiving weekend, when Murse invited me to drinks with friends. Engaged in conversation, I noticed Murse’s head turn.

Uh oh.

Murse had locked eyeballs with the blonde a few feet away, a cute teacher he recognized from his daughter’s school. He turned to greet her. They hugged. I stood for a moment, waiting. Watching to see if the conversation would end. It didn’t.

I was hurt.

We didn’t have an exclusive arrangement, yet I was furious. I abruptly left the restaurant, halting communication with Murse for two years.

Last Thanksgiving, one month after my mother died, I texted Murse while driving on the 10 Freeway. Destination Phoenix.
“I’m in town,” I wrote.

Minutes later the phone rang from its spot on the console. It was Murse.

“I thought you were mad at me,” he said, his voice rising as he waited for my response.

“Bygones,” I replied. “People change….and, it has, after all, been two years.

Then, beyond my expectations of someone such as Murse, a man who typically feasts on Lost Girls for lunch, Murse apologized.

“I’m glad you called,” he said. “Really glad. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have ditched you that night. I’m sorry. I like you….I would like to see you.”

“Hmmm,” I replied, slightly confused by his apology. Then, I remembered the way his laughter made the corners of his eyes crinkle, the fact that we grew up in the same town, and those damn abs.

“Let’s hang out. Call me when you get in,” he said. “We’ll hike with the kids.”

Hmmm. Hiking wasn’t hooking up. And thus, the relationship with Murse took a new turn, shifting from ebb to flow. Murse invited me to dinner with mutual friends at a quaint restaurant in Scottsdale. We drank wine. Ate dinner. Shared appetizers. Laughed. Connected. We talked about raising daughters. Divorce. Struggling with our fears of losing independence while in a relationship. Murse enjoyed my company, it was clear. He invited me to hike the next day, planning an incredible afternoon of exploring the desert. Plans which included his daughter, my dad and my three daughters. After the hike, Murse took us to a café nestled in the red rocks. More laughter. Connection. Murse was into me. The next morning he called at 7:00 am inviting me to yoga. We did asanas, sweating side by side, and when class finished, Murse invited me to lunch. It seemed I was dating Murse. In fact, I had spent more time with him then anyone I had dated in Los Angeles.
Nevertheless, I was conscious. Aware. During these dates Murse frequently discussed his fear of commitment. His love of life as a single man. Freedom. The joy of riding hours and hours on his bike up into the desert mountains without having to worry about who or what he had left behind. It felt good to be with Murse, despite these conversations. It felt good to be pursued. It felt good to be with someone who shared common interests.

I left Arizona in November, unsure of where I stood with Murse. He called me frequently, but one thing became clear as the months progressed. I was looking for a relationship. And Murse, he was not. We spoke less often, as I intentionally moved Murse to the back burner of my consciousness. In December he called to wish me happy holidays. I thought about him again, but then quickly cast aside the fantasy Murse was interested in a relationship.

In April I returned to Phoenix. I had told Murse I was coming to visit, he was eager to spend time with me. We had dinner together, my dad and his girlfriend watching the kids as we went for drinks afterwards. Then he asked me to dinner. A date.

Or was it? He left the choice to me. I texted him.

“I might wear makeup tonite.

Might not even wear the oversized sweatshirt,” I wrote.

“Hmmm,” he replied. “Sweatshirt means we are just friends. Alternative = date. Your call.”

It was my call. Despite my certainty that Murse is not interested in a relationship, I decided I would wear makeup, ditch the big clothes and clumsy hiking shoes I had been wearing each time we were together. I considered my clothes carefully. Black boots. Short skirt with black tights. Plaid cap. Earrings.

When Murse came to get me he was shocked, pleased and smiled brilliantly. He made small talk with my family, as if he had been part of our clan for years. As we prepared to leave he gave me a gift; a small compass to put on my keychain.

“It’s so you never get lost,” he said. “Wherever you go.”

Tucking the compass into my purse, we drove to the dark wine bar where he shared stories of his past. Difficult childhood. His struggles with how it still impacts his life. His realization that until he tackles this hurt he may never be able to love someone with fervor. His realization that perhaps it isn’t his love of cycling that prevents him from making a commitment. Perhaps it is his fear of having to take care of someone like his father, his exwife. The people whom he had loved that had needed him too much. He opened his heart. I walked in. The date continued. Sushi. Ice cream. Walking hand in hand through Old Town Scottsdale. At midnight he took me home.

“This is a date,” Murse said. “And so it will end properly.”

Walking me to the door, he gently kissed me goodbye.

It had been the perfect date.

For the next few weeks, Murse called often. He came forward when he sensed I might be pulling away. But like I had been with Rockstar, this former Lost Girl wasn’t being manipulative. I was busy. Bat Mitzvah. Launching a website. Planning a seminar.

Two weeks later Murse came to LA. We both were too conflicted to admit he was in town just to visit me. I had already made plans for most of the weekend, I would make time to see him Saturday. I didn’t want to change plans for him. He didn’t want to intrude, he said. “No worries.” It was just a relaxing weekend in LA. Nevertheless, Murse phoned on Thursday when he arrived in town.

“Can you squeeze me in…. lunch?” asked Murse.

We then spent Saturday together as planned. Again, we laughed. Yoga. More connection. Shopped on the promenade.
On our drive back to change for dinner, we discussed whether or not we would sleep together. He had been thinking about it. I had been thinking about it. I had decided I would not have sex with him. I knew to do this would involve emotions. Expectations. Expectations Murse could not live up to.

“Girlfriends go away,” Murse said, putting his hand on mine, the conversation building. “I don’t want you to ever go away. I want you in my life always. We shouldn’t sleep together.”

Murse had taken the offensive, throwing a wrench in my plan. He had decided we would not have sex. He was being mature. Responsible. His confession proved that despite his flirtations, our connection with each other, Murse was holding to his truth; the truth that he is incapable of making a commitment to relationship.

Arriving at home, I told Murse to shower first. He undressed, revealing everything – revealing those abs.

I was conflicted. Aroused. Confused. Walking into my closet, it dawned on me. For months, I had considered Murse as someone with whom I could possibly have a serious relationship. When he lived in this category, I could not have sex with him.
The water running, Murse’s silhouette moving quietly behind the beveled glass shower door, I began to think. Realistically. Clearly, Murse was not in this category. I was adept at putting men into their proper category, and there have been many who have shifted into the “friends with benefits” category, on their way towards “just friends.” I knew then my relationship with Murse was headed this way. I didn’t need to withhold sex from Murse to determine if he was in it for the duration. He wasn’t. Of this I was sure.

The tide had gone out, ebbing as we had hooked up. And now, it had come back in. There was no future in Murse.

It was time to simply ride the wave. I took off my robe, opened the shower door, and shook out my hair.

“Hey Murse,” I said.

There is this element of maturity that requires knowing when to say yes and when it is best to say no, even when it is the last thing I want to do. Clearly, the big guy upstairs has some message for me in this area, as I have been getting plenty of opportunities to practice being the one who has to put on the brakes. When it comes to knowing when to stop myself from pursuing the great relationship with the wrong guy, saying no initially feels plain bad. Even though it is clearly the right thing to do.

I spent an incredible evening with Murse that night. We shared soup. A Caesar Salad. Orange Roughy. We walked Main Street holding hands. We shared pumpkin pie under twinkle lights, sipping tea. We laughed. Connected. We did what we do.
Upon returning home that evening, Murse crawled into bed, and lay on his stomach. He mumbled.

“Tired. Yoga…killed me.”

I had ridden the Murse wave til it’s end. No more sex with Murse. Murse knew, like me, that he needed to shut down. Protect himself. Protect me.

As I watched him doze off, I realized it was time to put on the brakes. Put away the fantasy that Lost Girls’ will hold on to forever. I am no longer Lost, however. I know when it was time to say goodbye to Murse, say yes to friends.

I have been collecting friends lately. Saying goodbye to Rock Star. Smart Guy. Murse. What’s more important, however, is when I am dating with dignity there are less resentments, hurts and dramatic endings. And so I continue.

Because this is dating.

Dating with Dignity.