As difficult as it is for a woman to define herself, know who she is, and feel good about herself and her life without a man; it’s equally as difficult for a woman not to lose herself, not to give away her power, and not to disappear completely when she’s with a man.

This post was actually inspired by an article featured in the January 2019 issue of Elle Magazine, “Jennifer Aniston Doesn’t Need A Happy Ending,” by Carina Chocano. The essay is short and subtle but still moving and I highly recommend that all Goddesses take five minutes to read it, as it is very Goddess-Attainable-esque. I love Jennifer Aniston as an icon (since I have no idea who she really is in real life). Over time she has seemingly emerged as this combination of real and unreal, and has in recent years become the embodiment of the ultimate single woman Goddess, kicking ass and finding her way, honestly and confidently. She simply refuses to allow anyone but her to define her, and she continues to calmly communicate in her own relaxed but firm kind of way that, “Nah, that box you want to put me in, nope, that’s not really gonna work for me. I have more important things to do than get bent out of shape over what you think about me.” She’s a grown woman.


Image courtesy of Elle Magazine. Photographed by Zoey Grossman and Styled by Alison Edmond.

I have to say that being single was pretty easy for me once I stepped into my Goddess. I battled with being single for years and years, struggling uphill against my single-ness, filled with shame and embarrassment over every rejection, over every holiday that I was “still single,” over every woman who walked by and flashed her engagement ring in my face. I am not sure how I actually found my Goddess, but I think it’s safe to say that I just exhausted myself with feeling lousy about being single. I got into my car after a crummy date one night and just decided that I was done living such a powerless existence, and I vowed to do whatever I needed to do to transcend that way of living. I also recognized in that moment that society’s expectations of a woman’s love life are so insidiously poisonous, setting us up to feel terrible about ourselves always—and I got super angry about it, which felt super good. This blog emerged from my conscious decision to put all of those painful expectations down and to instead put myself up.

After about a year and a half of rocking my newfound Goddess energy, my relationship status shifted from single to not single, and I am now having to relearn how to step into my Goddess, only this time in the presence of a man, which is WAY different. It’s super easy for me to be a Goddess with no men around—or rather, with men kept at an arm’s length. Not caring what men think about me and unapologetically expressing my thoughts and feelings as a single woman is totally cake. I can feel pretty and flirty and confident when I am out and about with a man because I know that he won’t ever get to see me up close when I’m a wreck, curled up in a ball of insecure confusion. But bringing a man a bit closer into my Goddess realm exposes this unreachable Goddess to reveal a real woman with real issues.

How does a woman behave like a Goddess within the constructs of a romantic relationship? Spoiler alert: I have no idea and am learning as I go, so I am not going to give any advice in this post. However, I invite you to join me now while I take a deep dive into some juicy and honest exploration.

Firstly, I don’t think there is any way that a woman can discuss how to be a Goddess in a relationship with a man, without first addressing and examining honestly the nature of her relationship with the most powerful male figure in her life: her father.


My favorite place to be was with my dad. I learned at a very early age the art of clinging neediness and was really, really good at it.


This is me at three days old, 1979. Don’t you just love retro photography?! Not to mention handlebar mustaches.

My father was (and still is) a very positive, protective, dependable, and consistent force in my life, so one would think that I would have a built-in, hard-wired, healthy perspective surrounding my relationships with men. However, because my relationship with my mother was not so positive (R.I.P Mama, December 20, 2017), my father’s role became that much more powerful in my life and I think this imbalance threw my ideas about men super outtawhack. Unfortunately, I learned very early in my childhood that since my mother’s protection, love, and consistency were not to be relied upon, my life instead actually depended upon my father. I learned that without a man (at such an early age, I believe a girl’s concept of her father and men in general are interchangeable) I was literally, not even metaphorically, but literally unsafe and insecure. I learned that my physical and emotional security was attached to a man and that my life and actual survival were reliant upon a man’s presence. Sadly, my childhood took me through some quite literally unsafe times, and every time my father was there for me, my feelings of terrifying dependence and utter reliance on him grew stronger. In my mind, the loss of my father absolutely equated to the actual death of this young Goddess.


I’m the crazed looking child on the left with my twinnie twin next to me.


I have always loved fishing, or maybe just the idea of fishing, because it has always reminded me of nice times with Dad.


He was a good dad (still is) and took us places. My lovely and beautiful grandmother would often join, making those occasions that much more magical for me, as well as a welcomed escape from the fear-filled days and nights with my mama.

So many of my years of single woman struggles consisted of me grappling with my own deep-seated tendencies to give men all of my power, often without even realizing it. I simply did not know how to unhook from the false belief that I truly needed a man. I did not know any other way to interact with a man, other than by giving him all of my power. It just happened, every single time (and still does to some extent, any time I stop practicing conscious presence in any given moment—which, who in the world can practice conscious presence every moment of the day, every day of the year?) A man would be standing next to me and I would give him my power just standing there. This could come in the form of anything from consciously or obliviously choosing to change how I was standing in the hopes that he might find me more attractive, to obsessively analyzing what he might be thinking or feeling, to any other number of insecure behaviors. Power discarding comes in all shapes and sizes and happens within an instant. And women do it all of the time. All women. Until they learn not to.

In case any woman has not been informed of this fact, I will state clearly for the record that most men really, really hate when women hand over their power. I know this statement is an oversimplification and is kind of a general and trendy sort of thing to say, but there is major truth to it. And the fact that men typically hate when women hand over their power should not be the sole reason that motivates a woman to learn to manage her power in healthier ways (otherwise, that would still be us giving them our power), but it’s a thing we do to ourselves that feels terrible and that men also happen to hate.

Unfortunately, many, many, many men are also terrified and disgusted when we as women own, express, and exert our power, even if we are doing it in beautiful, healthy, Goddess-like ways. Forget about when we are doing it in more assertive, forceful, and/or reckless ways. Most men can’t really tolerate much of that more aggressive style of power assertion in any capacity. So essentially, women are kind of set up to fail either way when it comes to the issue of power. Even my dad, who is pretty great, and pretty progressive and forward thinking in terms of female power and feminism, conveyed negative messages to me about female power at a very early age (most likely, without even realizing it). I can recall one car ride with my father when my sister and I were blasting and singing loudly the hottest song on the radio at the time, Alanis Morissette’s You Oughta Know. And in the height of our unbridled, emotive, melodic delight, my dad exclaimed, “Why is she so angry?!” I recall feeling angry myself about this comment and I think I blurted out something along the lines of, “Because her boyfriend cheated on her!” or “She’s not that angry!” and felt a strong need to defend ma gurl. None of my reactionary arguments assuaged my father at the time and I do believe he was actually disturbed by the song and Alanis’ intense levels of emotional outrage. He just kind of couldn’t really handle it and seemed to feel a bit scurred by the whole thing.


Video still from Alanis Morissette’s You Oughta Know. Click here to watch the “angry” video and listen to her “angry” song.

Aside from power issues that inevitably arise when a Goddess meets a man, there are also those abandonment/daddy issues that well up and ooze out from the depths of the guts of most every Goddess who is practicing honest vulnerability within a relationship. I have had to unlearn in my adult life that when a man “leaves” me in any capacity, deliberately or accidentally threatens to “leave” me, or even harmlessly or temporarily “leaves” me; that those arising fearful feelings that I might actually die, which thankfully occur less and less often with practice, represent very old and deep-seated wounds that need gentle but immediate healing. And no man is capable of healing them for me. These feelings can only be healed by a Goddess’s love for herself. However, it is like a cell memory that’s triggered every time a male enters and exits our space. Enter man = Power Compromised. Exit man = Life Compromised. In many ways, being a single Goddess is so much easier because I can choose to avoid men on any given day and thus avoid having to manage any of those painful and shameful triggers. In a relationship however, there is no escaping it. Going crazy on a guy is not the best option, and shutting down and shutting off is also not healthy for a relationship. Vulnerability is required, and finding the balance between strength and softness, trying to decipher between little girl feelings and grown woman feelings, is like learning a new language. I know the alphabet and I understand how to write and pronounce every letter, but I’ve never put these new letter combinations together before and tried to make sense of them in any real kind of way. But now I must, and fast.

[Just a note that there is a huge difference between a man exiting a woman’s space within the frame of a healthy, caring, nurturing relationship; and a man ghosting a woman, playing mind games, and displaying emotionally unavailable behavior. The latter is the kind of behavior that often feels like death for a woman. If a woman feels like she might die whenever an emotionally available man exits her space, then she might have some much deeper, therapeutic, self-love Goddess work to do before she can truly be with a man in any real and healthy way.]


Video still from Florence and the Machine’s Delilah. This song (which I LOVE) is all about Flo losing her shit over a guy, trying to cope and not go crazy, but maybe not quite capable of keeping it together on cue, and trying to manage those feelings of shame and self-disgust. This song used to be my anthem during a time when I was obsessing over a super ghosty bloke, and every time I hear it now, I think back on a former Goddess in the making, and it makes me love myself for going through that with open eyes and an open heart. Click here to watch the video and listen to the song.

I know I’m not the only woman (or man for that matter) who has daddy/abandonment issues. In our culture, we witness constantly how women do all kinds of things to manage these feelings, because when they arise, they are beyond uncomfortable to experience running through our minds and washing over our bodies. Some women, if they don’t think they can cope with the discomfort and fear, may actually go psycho hose beast and lose their shit, like Flo in the video above. Other women might come up with some kind of plan to manipulate and keep a man closer than he prefers to be. Women are skilled manipulators by nature and can often act in manipulative ways without even realizing it. In order to survive, our gender has had to find alternative means to gain and/or maintain power through vehicles other than the exertion of physical strength, and manipulative behavior is a quick and temporary substitute for true power. In many cases, manipulative behavior is way more destructive, powerful, and far-reaching than any use of physical brute strength.


Video still of Miranda Lambert’s Mama’s Broken Heart. I’m a huge fan of women divulging openly and honestly how easily they can lose their shit over a guy and I identify very much with the behavior, even though I choose not to practice it. There is something endearing about a woman admitting how cray cray she can actually allow herself to get, and all the shame and self-hate that goes along with it. Click here to watch the video and listen to this UH-MAZING song.

In order to combat this complicated abandonment-power dynamic, a woman might also simply choose a man who is not exactly on her level of awesome in order to ensure security. If a woman is with a man who doesn’t have his shit together, worships her, and/or allows her to take care of shit that he should be taking care of himself, he’ll probably stick around forever if she let’s him. Her security is intact, although happiness, not so much.

The other way women deal with these fearful feelings is to avoid them all together and essentially attempt to prevent themselves from ever feeling abandoned. Women might avoid men and relationships and/or present themselves as super cold and tough, discarding all vulnerabilities. I actually prefer the psycho hose beast approach rather than this tough gal strategy. The Robust On The Outside Yet Wilting On The Inside technique always makes me think of the Bruce Lee adage, “Notice that the stiffest tree is most easily cracked, while the bamboo or willow survives by bending with the wind.” I much prefer to let the unbearable fear run through me and incapacitate me for a time, even if I humiliate myself and/or risk losing my relationship in the process; rather than remain cold and shut down for long periods of time. That method always seems to lead to things like tumors, repressed emotions and explosions, and very little growth.

Goddesses like myself have learned to find constructive ways to manage these feelings of fear and it has only been achieved through arduous trial and error. Honestly exploring and sharing our feelings with a trusted soul is a very direct, mature, and useful tool to ease the process of taking all the muck churning from within and bringing it out into the world for exploration and healing. It’s almost like turning on a light in order to see that the Boogeyman doesn’t actually exist. This particular Goddess, along with other creative Goddesses like Flo and Miranda, also channel these murky lurky feelings into works of art.


A painting I did about a guy I was losing my shit over—the same Delilah song guy who was ghosting me. I literally stopped losing my shit over him the day that I completed this painting.

I honestly don’t know if there is a way to learn how to be a Goddess in the midst of men without experiencing LOTS of loss and rejection. At least this has been my process, although as I was learning, I did not actually realize I was learning at the time. I just thought, “OMG I suck, stop doing this, stop behaving this way. How do I stop behaving this way?” And little by little, with each experience, and each hose beast episode, I became a little less psycho. Each time I would put a little more Goddess in the forefront and send a little more man into the background. And it started to feel good. Odd but good, because there will probably always be a part of me that feels comforted by giving a man my power. It’s familiar and easy, even though it’s essentially masochistic and self-sabotaging.

I have also found that the best way to heal from abandonment issues is to remain incredibly present while feeling and/or being “abandoned” in a relationship, and realize each time that I did not die like I thought I would and that I am actually fine. It’s a painful process of reprogramming those cellular memories but it’s the work that needs to be done. The level of shame about these feelings that we carry with us can feel so unbearable, but also motivates the soul to break our bounds and discover new avenues to behave in mature and productive ways. Living with the shame just gets to be too much for any Goddess to endure.

It should also be noted that a woman’s tendency to turn her power over to a man does not just stem from childhood issues. Society and direct experiences with men in the real world also play a hugely destructive part in this learned behavior. A woman’s meekness in her relationship can also be a direct and unconscious reaction to the fundamental knowing that if a man knew how strong, fabulous, confident, and fierce she truly was, he would run in petrified and repulsed horror. This isn’t some kind of delusional insecurity that women have conjured up on their own. This kind of thing actually happens on the reg. Many men actually bolt at the first sign of female strength, and therefore women innocently conclude that, “If he bolted from THAT, he’s really gonna be freaked out if I turn on the power full-blast. I better be sure to never do that. How can I find ways to never do that?” We as women know how powerful we are. We have just learned so incredibly early that if we want people—especially men—to like us, we need to find ways to mask the power that naturally wants to flow from us. As a woman, did you ever have your strength accidentally seep out in a candid moment only to notice the look of horror on a man’s face after realizing his beautiful and sweet princess was actually a commanding Goddess disguised as an agreeable and easy-going girl? I have. That look of horror is often enough to invoke deep and powerful shame in any woman. And if you are a woman like me who values having a relationship with a man, it’s easy to perform damage control and quickly find ways to reconfigure ourselves in order to be less horrifying to men. Rather than embracing that strength and saying, “Wow if you don’t like me when I’m at my most awesome, maybe I better go find a guy who can handle it, buh bye,” we instead feel wretchedly ashamed for grossing out our guy with our pesky primal power. All I know is that after 39 years of living, I would rather be alone and settle for stigmatized spinsterhood than play that game of trying to please and pretzel my way into a man’s idea of idealized dream woman. It’s truly exhausting.


So, after all of this analyzing and dissecting, what can we conclude? From my experience, I have learned that it is really important to conscientiously stay on top of our shit. I also think it’s equally important, if not more so, to be vulnerable and express softness and affection when it feels natural and good and safe, knowing that we might be rejected or humiliated, but knowing that we won’t die from it. It takes a deep and confident knowing that even if we are soft and open, we won’t lose ourselves and won’t die if we are hurt. Our softness as women endears others to be soft too and we won’t get lost in the giving if we take care of ourselves. We can be open and real and give and still be strong. At least that is what I would like to try for. Taking time for ourselves is also key. If we feel ourselves slipping, we don’t need to keep a man around so he can witness our internal (or external) meltdown. It’s not productive for the relationship and it is too easy for a man to absorb our stuff, especially if he is kind and caring, and too easy for us to release ourselves from our own responsibilities. It’s important to take that extra time and get back to our own Goddess. She hasn’t gone anywhere, she’s always there. She just hangs back until we call upon her. We must never forget to call upon her.

“Can the purpose of a relationship be to trigger our wounds? In a way, yes, because that is how healing happens; darkness must be exposed before it can be transformed. The purpose of an intimate relationship is not that it be a place where we can hide from our weaknesses, but rather where we can safely let them go. It takes strength of character to truly delve into the mystery of an intimate relationship, because it takes the strength to endure a kind of psychic surgery, an emotional and psychological and even spiritual initiation into the higher Self. Only then can we know an enchantment that lasts.” -Marianne Williamson, Enchanted Love: The Mystical Power Of Intimate Relationships


I don’t really like dealing with doctors. I have never really liked dealing with doctors and have never felt comfortable putting my body and my health in the hands of another human being. I am not saying I don’t have trust and control issues and I can completely admit to having minor to moderate hypochondria tendencies. But I still believe the points I intend to bring up in this post are completely valid regardless of any neurosis I may be responsible for.

I have always had white coat hypertension for as far back as I can remember. This condition eventually got to the point where I would have to warn the doctor ahead of time and tell him or her that I get very nervous around doctors, so my blood pressure will most likely be sky high. I often asked the doctor to wait to take my BP until the end of the exam after I had relaxed a bit. Inevitably—perhaps this is where my mistrust of doctors began—the doctor would basically ignore me, take my blood pressure within seconds of—or sometimes in the midst of—my shaky proclamation, and literally freak out about how high my reading was, giving me a speech about high blood pressure, and generally expressing extreme alarm in reaction to my reading. This of course made me the opposite of more calm. It also made me feel very unheard, made me wonder if I really did need to worry about my heart health and blood pressure, and made me feel even less trusting of doctors. The message I received over time from repeated experiences by various doctors was that I have absolutely no personal power in a doctor’s office and that my emotions and even articulate thoughts and feelings about my health and my own body, the body I deal with every day, will never be heard or considered. How terrifying.


Just a note that once the exam was over, usually the doctor would take another reading and of course notice that my BP had decreased drastically and basically returned to normal. Despite this fact, at one point in my early teens, doctors were so concerned about my BP readings that they ordered an ultra-sound on my heart, only to find that nothing was wrong. I appreciate that they checked to make sure I was healthy, but it was quite frightening at the time. I have since learned to find ways to calm myself in a doctor’s waiting room so I do not even have to proclaim anything to anyone ahead of time, at least with regards to my blood pressure. Reiki has been very useful for this.


So as not to draw attention to myself, I can usually sit in a doctor’s waiting room with my hands resting naturally on my abdomen, and perform Reiki on myself to help combat the nerves. The last few times I have done this, my typical elevated BP reading of about 134/87 has decreased to around 110/60. White coat syndrome begone! Image obtained from here.

Contemplate for a moment the amount of trust that is needed for a human being to receive care from a doctor, who is undisputedly, a fellow human being. Of course, I acknowledge that one of the human beings in this scenario has gone to medical school and the other human being has most likely not. I do understand that doctors don’t know nothing—medically speaking—and I am grateful that we have experts in this world who know more than I do about medicine. But doctors also don’t know everything—medically speaking. I personally feel like on a scale of medical knowledge between knowing everything and knowing nothing, doctors in general fall somewhere in the 40% range (if 100% is knowing everything—like what God might know about medicine, and 0% is knowing nothing—like what a six-month old baby might know about medicine). That is just how I feel, but of course, I could be wrong. However, I do believe that a huge part of healing, health, and the art of caring for the human body, has less to do with intellectual knowledge, and at least just as much, if not more, to do with the art of human relations, instincts and intuition, and other holistic considerations. I do think that doctors are seriously lacking in this area, and whenever I come across a doctor who chooses to apply his or her medical knowledge in cooperation with basic human compassion, patience, and understanding, I have noticed that my anxiety is virtually non-existent.

Feel free to read about one of my first-hand experiences with contrasting forms of care from two different podiatrists in “REIKI, PART III: FINAL ROOT HEALING.” One of these doctors I refer to as “The Butcher,” and the other, “The Miracle Worker.” Both doctors were around the same age with the same education (they actually went to school together). The Miracle Worker made me feel cared for, honored, and actually took care of my ailment within seconds, after having suffered at the hands of The Butcher for weeks. The Butcher, antithetically, disregarded and invalidated the amount of pain I was experiencing, blamed me for part of the problem, and was never able to relieve me of the severity of my condition.


Here is a good little post about compassion in the medical world. Image obtained from here.

I have recently switched gynecologists because of this lack of compassion-understanding-patience component, and had a really positive experience during my most recent visit. I had been noticing that my former gynecologist just did not quite seem remotely capable of truly hearing me. She was kind and fairly patient, but on many occasions, I would tell her what was going on with my body, and she would say something to me that seemed completely contradictory to what I had just said, to the point where I would actually repeat myself to make sure she had initially heard me correctly. I felt as if she had made up her own mind about my health, regardless of what I was sharing with her about my body. I might say something like, “My body feels fine when A, but not when B,” and she might respond with a list of things to help deal with A—even though I had just told her that A is fine and B is my actual concern. When I repeated myself about B, she dismissed that concern and moved onto another topic completely. Quite confusing and bizarre was this experience. This sounds like a subtle thing, but it became frustrating in terms of care and made me feel less comfortable trusting her with things like prescriptions and diagnoses. And since I am so sensitive in general, my anxiety would be greater just knowing that this particular person often does not truly hear me when I am expressing myself. I also noticed that during my last visit with her, the exam she performed on me was quite painful and I expressed this to her clearly during the examination. She ignored my assertion and literally talked over me as she quickly finished the exam and declared I was fine. Her behavior made me feel like she just did not want to deal with me. Again, another seemingly minor detail, but this treatment indicated to me that she was unsympathetic to my discomfort level, and again, not as concerned as I felt she should have been with something that actually might be a cause for concern.

When I finally switched doctors, I was so relieved to find that this new practitioner was so gentle, truly listened to what I was saying about my body, and responded thoughtfully. My visit with her took just as much time as my other visits and it was never as if I was demanding a ton of either doctors’ time. But the time that this doctor did share with me was utterly more respectful and thoughtful. I also noted that during my visit with her, my anxiety was nil. It was if I could instantly sense that she was going to give me the care and respect that I needed, even if she did not have all of the medical answers—she did of course, but even if she did not, I still would have returned to her. I felt that if she could not find the answers to my questions, she would do her best until I felt satisfied and comfortable. Quality of experience is so important to me when it comes to doctors and that is why I dumped Dr. Lousy-Care for Dr. Fantabulous.


Image obtained from here

My most recent visit to an eye doctor ultimately prompted me to write this post and I will end with this final anecdote.

I have always had exceptional vision, but have also always secretly wished that my eyesight was terrible, because I want to be a hot person wearing glasses. So, every few years, I check back with an eye doctor to see if I need a prescription in the hopes that I can finally live out my hot-secretary-in-glasses fantasy.

I had never met with this eye doctor before and when he asked what brought me into the office, I shared with him that my eyesight seemed to be failing me when reading things up close (which is true, not false). He then gave me a card to read and put some lenses in front of me. The blurred words became instantly clear and I was excited at the prospect of picking out sexy frames and walking away from this visit in full faux-intellectual hot mama form. However, he pointed out that I might just need to not hold things so closely when I am reading them, because when he pulled the card away several inches, the words became clear. [In this moment I felt a bit foolish and confused, but oh well.] He then stated that he would not advise that I start using lenses if I don’t need them, because from there, my eyesight will never go back to being the same. He recommended that we discuss options once he completes the eye exam. So far, so good. Up until this point, I felt that this doctor was behaving in a caring and compassionate manner, looking out for my long-term well-being and being frank and relaxed with me about my eye health.


After performing each mini eye assessment, he would say things like, “Very good.” And “Excellent.” At one point I even saw (with my own fabulous eyeballs) him type into his computer “20/20.” He completed the exam and essentially concluded that I have perfect vision.

I started to get a bit suspicious however, when he took a slightly obnoxious detour to point out that I have an anatomical ocular deformity, something about a narrow opening, and said that this would eventually lead to stabbing pains and can only be corrected with laser surgery. He said it could be one year, or it could be ten years, but it will happen. Horrified, I asked if I could live the rest of my entire life without this ever becoming an issue—since he assured me it is not an issue right now—and he abruptly interjected, “No, absolutely not, it’s going to happen.”

Fatalistic much?

He also made some mention during my perfect exam of how he has no sympathy for me because he has had glasses plastered to his face since he was nine years old.

Nice. Compassionate. Trustworthy. This guy hates me!

At this point, something in my gut kind of turned, my trust in this doctor began to dwindle and spiral, and by the end of my visit, I was convinced of his awfulness.

After he had resentfully declared to me the results of my perfect vision test, he said something about picking out frames and writing up a prescription. I then stated that I can’t really waste money on frames, especially if I don’t need them right now, if my vision is essentially perfect. To which he replied in an inappropriately joking, yet persuasive tone, “Sure you can!”

So…he’s a sadist AND a crook.


Image obtained from here

During this visit and as we were wrapping up, I could not help but wonder if others in my position were allowing themselves to be subtly bullied by this fellow, just as I was allowing him to subtly bully me—I am certain that like me, many people would be just as caught off guard, managing the shock, and incapable of doing much more than just surviving the visit and getting the Duck out of Dodge (I’m not in the mood to swear right now and I think my pun is beyond clever, no?). As far as I am concerned, I will never return to that establishment again. [He also warned me that I need to come back every year and that we really need to stay on top of this.] Clearly, his focus was far from compassionate. Instead, his medical goals veered towards robbing me and playing into my hypochondria, via means of effectively terrifying me about potential ailments of what’s to inevitably destroy my eyesight and cause considerable amounts of pain—pain requiring surgery and only surgery in order to survive this tragic optical incorrection of mine. Perhaps I do have an eyeball deformity of some kind, but at this point, I’m leaning towards forgetting his frightening threats and obtaining a second opinion if necessary.

[Do people even get second opinions any more? I feel like second opinions are so old school passé, but I would like to bring this vintage trend back. Who’s with me? Can I get an Amen?]

It often frightens me how much power we give to doctors, and I do not even want to contemplate at length the amount of power many of them assign to themselves. They know more than most of us about medicine—fact. I literally have no idea about anything that doctors know, and this unfortunately does give them an insane amount of power. This eye doctor could have lied and told me that I have terrible vision and need glasses in order to troubleshoot the onset of ophthalmic disease. I honestly would not have known the difference between truth and fiction. How could I? How could any of us? There’s that trust factor again. The amount of trust that we are required to give these people/strangers we depend on really scares me. Especially since they are humans just like us. They have issues and baggage just like us. They could be assholes or saints just like us. We just don’t know and we just have to trust. But my gut has always been my best guide, and regardless of how much more this guy knows about eyeballs, I also know he’s a fucking asshole who doesn’t care about me. Therefore, he’s lost my trust and my business; because the other unfortunate fact is that he is in business. He gets paid a lot of money every time a patient visits him. And he gets paid a lot of money every time someone purchases frames from him.

I often wonder if after a visit to a doctor’s office, patients feel perhaps violated or just sort of funky and mildly disrespected, just as I did (and still sometimes do). After a lousy visit with a crummy doctor, I remember I used to think that something was wrong with me. Doctors used to be so untouchable in my mind. Of course I was the one with the problem, and of course it could not possibly be them! And I wonder if others like me often think, “Well, this is my doctor, and all doctors are the same. They all went to medical school and they are in the business of healing, so it must just be me. I will just deal with my silly feelings and get over it. This is my problem, not theirs.” After many difficult encounters with doctors, I have finally learned that these dismissive statements I used to tell myself are simply not true. Since I have started to empower myself to navigate through the health system in a holistic way, using one-part logic, one-part gut feelings, and just a dash of hope, I have found that truly caring individuals do exist in the medical world, despite all the louses. There are lovely human beings who go to work every day, just like all of us, and who are passionate about healing others and interested in utilizing their brilliant knowledge to truly save human beings. They really are out there. Trust me, I have done the legwork. I have just had to learn to sift through a few losers to get to the gold.