Modern Dating Lessons: Assurance Testing in Relationships

I’ve been single for 5 years now. I didn’t even start to date until 2 years after Andy’s unexpected death. Over the last three years, I have conducted an anthropological study of dating in the modern world, of sorts. I don’t recommend it. It has taught me so much. I’ve learned who I am being single, living for myself, I know what I want. Most importantly I know what I need from a person for them to be MY PERSON.

The truth is, I’m happy being me and being single. I like me. It hasn’t always been that way. My story is not an easy one to tell, and maybe someday, I’ll share. Those are definitely tales for another day. I’m a work in progress; there is always room for growth.

Would I like to be in a relationship? Absolutely! Am I willing to let it destroy my peace? NO!

I’ve come to value peace, time, and treasure the important things. Life can change in an instant. Many of the lessons I use as a litmus test in dating come from my best friend of 26 years. Having been married to my best friend is both a blessing and a curse now that I’m single. I know the things I could have done better. I know what a good relationship acts like, what it feels like. That makes my tolerance for BS much lower. It also makes me see how most relationships today are not friendly ones. That’s sad, because that’s what makes it truly worth it. I’m grateful for what I’ve had.

One of the best lessons I learned in life actually came from Andy’s career. You see, one of his many jobs in the military was an electronics technician. They were constantly testing equipment to find what had failed and what needed to be made right. In so many ways, he applied that technique to our marriage and to our lives.

I remember one day I was doing laundry, and the start button on the washer fell inside the control panel. Andy happened to hear my few choice words and came to see what the problem was. He said the washer wasn’t beyond repair. He opened the control panel and found the right circuit and the remains of the now-defunct button. He resoldered the circuit so the current would flow where it needed to go. He created a workaround for the broken button. This memory makes me laugh. We had to use a long pencil with a soft eraser on the end to reach the on/off circuit. It worked; he repaired what was broken. Then he followed up, time and time again, to make sure his fixes held in place.

He called it assurance testing. He wanted to make sure the problem didn’t get worse. Checking that it didn’t need something more, that it was good. Most importantly that it was able to do what it was designed to do. We used that washer for years after that fix. As a matter of fact, when I sold our little farm, I was going to get rid of the washer. The couple that bought the house kept it. I had to write the instructions on the top of the washer. The pencil fix worked, and they continued to use it. That made my heart happy.

I apply this Assurance Testing to my life every day, not just in dating. But it may be the reason I’ll be single for the foreseeable future. This philosophy makes me a better person. It’s not about dating, it’s about life and how I do life. Yes, I want someone to share my life, the keyword is SHARE. It’s not about leading or being led. It’s about being best friends and doing life WITH someone. Someone who is invested in the relationship will check in. They will want to know that I am good, to make sure things aren’t coming undone. They will want to know if I need something to get through the day. They will want to encourage me and see that I’m living life to the best of my abilities. That’s what they will get from me, so it’s reciprocal. It’s a mutuality that makes relationships work; things can’t be all one-sided.

Another thing I learned while living with an electronics tech is about dirty power and bad data. Dirty power refers to high-frequency noise, interference, or other distortions that contaminate the standard AC power waveform, essentially “polluting” the power supply. This electrical pollution can lead to potential equipment malfunction, reduced efficiency, and, in some cases, has been known to affect health. Bad data is just what it sounds like: bad information. You’ve probably heard the phrase, garbage in, garbage out. That’s bad data.

My point here is that there are too many distractions, too much noise, and interference in modern romantic relationships, and it pollutes and corrupts rather than giving strength. Pay attention to where you get your information from…think about what the person is telling you. What do they have at stake? Are they just looking for more followers? Do they really have your best interests at heart? Is it hearsay or truth? Not everything you hear is real, especially on social media and with the rise of AI. Bad data in equals bad outcomes.

Make decisions for yourself. Make informed decisions. Listen to your gut. Focus on what you are putting into the relationship. If you are not getting that reciprocated, it’s time to examine that relationship and put that Assurance Test to work. Take an honest look at what the problem is. Talk about it. Can it be fixed? What do WE need to do differently? How can we keep this from happening again? What needs to happen to make it work as it was intended? It isn’t a me or a you thing; it has to be a we thing. 

Relationships can’t exist if only one person is working on it. That’s not a relationship, that’s a delusion, an idea of what you think a relationship should be. You can’t date someone for who you want them to be. They have to have the substance of what you need first. Know your worth, love yourself. Toxic people can do so much damage to your heart, the longer you give them access to you. No relationship is worth stealing your peace.

I’ve been told that I’m comparing relationships to a ghost, that I’m too picky, and I’m whatever. The fact is, if a man doesn’t check in with me, if he doesn’t care about what’s going on in my life enough to ask, how can he expect me to care about his life? If we aren’t checking in with each other, he won’t be there when bad things happen, and I won’t know if bad things are happening with him. And bad things will happen; that’s just a matter of time, they always do. I don’t want an after-the-fact type of relationship.

We all need people who are willing to stand in the gaps WITH us. In order to HAVE that, I believe you have to BE that.

So yeah, maybe I am too picky, but I have this crazy idea that relationships are meant to be more. Your person needs to be the best part of your daily life support system, and you need to be theirs; otherwise, what’s the point?

Keep on testing, friends; I’m going to give it a rest for a while. There has to be something better out there. 

The Curse of an Independent Woman

If you are a fan of my upbeat, inspirational posts, spoiler alert. This will not be that.

The day is closing on my birthday. My first day of year 59. It began with a funeral and ended with a car wreck. Before you fret too much, everyone is okay, and so on with the story.
Today has been an unusual mix of emotions, sweetness, sorrow, excitement, and fear.


As I said earlier, I spent the morning at a military funeral. It wasn’t long ago I was in that very same chapel waiting for the guns to fire, taps to be played and the flag folded and passed. A military funeral is both reverence and history. The lone trumpet playing Taps evokes a sadness that is not just yours, but the sadness of all those who have experienced that pain before you. It is a history of pain, isolation, and mourning. Taps is played every day on a military post to signal the end of the day. When it is played, life on post stops, people get out of their cars, stop doing whatever they are doing, and soldiers face the flag as it comes down for the day and salute. It is signaling soldiers to lay down their burdens and rest. At the end of life, it signals that soldier have completed their earthly mission and can now be at peace. All of this is why Taps brings me to my knees every time. 


After Taps played this morning, I walked away from the chapel, made my way to a now-familiar bench, and had a conversation. To those looking on, it may have seemed one-sided, or that I was a little crazy talking to myself, but to me, it was a conversation with my best friend, who I miss more than words can even begin to express. A feeling of peace settles over me when we talk of life moving on without him here. I told Andy that I understood his time was not my time. I’ve realized that even though things have been challenging and downright scary at times, I wouldn’t change anything. I know that sounds harsh, but it is true.


Years and years ago, Andy and I talked about how we were in a certain place at a certain time for a reason, and we were given a gift at that moment in time. Our friendship superseded everything, we both had past baggage and troubles, some horrific things most would see as obstacles. You see, if you change one single thing, either good or bad, the trajectory of your life shifts and you are no longer in alignment to be in that moment in time to receive a gift you didn’t even know you needed. Andy’s death led me to the next point on my path and whatever that point brings, I know I’m meant to be there and I’m grateful for the gift.


So when I sat on that bench in the sunshine, talking to a man who was no longer here for me, I knew he understood what I meant. Crazy, right? I know things have worked out just as they were supposed to, even though sometimes I wish they were different. The God of the Universe still has plans for me, he keeps pushing me in a direction I can’t yet see, but I know there is a gift when I get there.


I am very blessed to have people who love and care for me. That was never more obvious than today. My brother called to wish me a happy birthday, my sister-in-law texted a big “Happy Birthday,” and hundreds of folks wished me happy birthday on social media. The ladies in my office took me out for lunch. They encouraged me and loved on me. They made a hard morning a better day.


After work another friend wanted to celebrate with me. I met a dear friend for dinner, and jazz afterward. Dinner was wonderful. Sadly, we didn’t make it to the jazz. We left the restaurant and I had to take a call for work, so I was a few minutes behind her. As I made my way to our destination I was stopped due to an accident. When I saw it was my friend, my stomach dropped to my knees. She was hit almost head-on as she pulled out from a light. Luckily, she was ok. She had banged up knees, and a few other aches and pains. The car was totaled. She was so lucky it wasn’t worse. I was thankful I could be there for her, I stayed with her, cleaned out her car, took her home, and got her settled. Let the people she needed to know, know. She kept apologizing for messing up my birthday. I felt terrible she was hurt trying to do something nice for me. I wouldn’t have been anywhere else. If I hadn’t been there, who would’ve? That’s what you do, right?


We are meant to share each other’s burdens when the world becomes heavy. Then why do I feel as if I’m carrying more than my share?


I don’t have all the answers, I am not perfect, but I am authentic. If I care about you and you care about me, that’s community. Community is very important to me. I will go through hell and back with you, help you find what you need, help you carry your burdens. Community is not about doing life alone. 


Yet…that’s where I am. Life alone, who pours into you, lifts you up, hugs away your hurts, lets you cry on their shoulders when you need to, when you no longer have a person? You give, who gives back? I am not perfect. Sometimes I am empty, sometimes I am tired, sometimes I hurt, and sometimes I need someone to be authentic for me, and care for me. I have always been the caregiver, so I struggle with accepting the very thing I need, care.


Is it easy? No. There are things in my soul that I keep bumping up against. This is where it gets dark, where the hard things get too heavy to carry, where life alone becomes unbearable. But what do you do? Carry on.


It doesn’t come all at once, it comes in the quiet moments when I’m alone and it hurts just a little too much. The times when all I want is a person to be MY person, to listen when I share, to care, to spend time with me and enjoy my company as much as I do theirs, someone to call and ask how my day was and I ask them about their day, someone who gets my weird humor and I can laugh alongside, to share stories, people watch, stream videos or just sit in comfortable silence together over a cup of coffee. Today, I realized I miss having a person most of all and it hurt me to my core. I’m crying as I type this. Cherish your people.


Now, does that mean I will do anything to get a person? Absolutely not! I learned a while back, never to do anything out of the fear of being alone. It is not worth it and it leads to self-doubt and self-loathing.

I don’t need to be married, I don’t know that I’ll ever get married again. Only time will tell, I guess. I don’t want to take over someone’s home or them take over mine. I don’t want someone to complete me, or be my first last kiss or any of that other corny crap that people put on dating profiles.

What I long for is a person I can rely on. For me, that person is a man, who is ride or die, hell or high water there for me and me for them. I miss true connection, true friendship, and someone who will be ok if I cry on their shoulder, and I’m there if they need to cry on mine. I’ve got their back if they need me. I miss having MY person, my go-to when the world goes to crap. Someone who makes me feel safe and that I trust. I miss hugs.


I know I sound whiny, and today I guess I am. Retrospect can be that way. Don’t get me wrong, I love my girlfriends, but they can’t do that for me. I’m not alone, but I FEEL alone. I have people. I have a tribe that loves and cares about me. My friends have been sounding boards when I need to process, they have sat in silence with me when I had no words, they have shared laughter when I never thought I’d laugh again, they have sung with me no matter how off-key I am, they have given my heart a song when the music in me was silent. 


All of this is hard for me to admit, I’m not what many people see. I’m not strong. I need someone to give back and to care for me. I need someone who can be all the things I am to others, for me, to pour in what I have poured out. I have taken care of myself for so long that I have forgotten how to ask for help, and how to be vulnerable.

They call it resilience, but that doesn’t make it any easier to carry the weight. Strong independent women seem to have it all together, the perception is that they don’t need anything or anyone. Strong women don’t fall apart when things get tough, they handle tough situations with apparent ease, and they rarely lose control in front of others. You don’t see us screaming into our pillows or crying in the shower so no one sees our tears. Even though the burdens weigh us down, we struggle to our feet and keep going, because we have to. Not because we want to.


I believe this is the curse of a strong independent woman. 

Living Someone Else’s Dream

Have you ever been shaken awake and realized you were living someone else’s dream and not your own?

In 2020, in the height of the pandemic, my husband of almost 25 years died from a massive stroke. He was 52 and I was 55. I was shattered into a million pieces. A middle aged woman who felt absolutely invisible. I had to figure out how to go forward alone. How do I do life? I was in shock, going through a lot of emotions and just barely making it a step at a time.

We had 32 acres and a little farm with chickens and goats. We also had a little tiny farmhouse that was almost 100 years old and needed constant work. I was isolated in the country, and felt all alone in the world. During COVID there was not a lot of personal contact, so much so that we had a funeral on zoom. There was one there to hug me when I fell apart.

A month after the funeral was Christmas. My first Christmas alone in a very long time. It would have been Andrew’s 53rd birthday. December felt impossible. Friends knew I was struggling and asked me to come spend Christmas with them. That positive energy felt like a lifeline.

We had a wonderful white Christmas! It rarely snows in Knoxville, Tennessee in December. It snowed almost a foot on Christmas Eve. It was beautiful. Christmas Day was breakfast and presents. We watched Christmas movies and talked girl talk. It was blissful. A wonderful escape from the reality I felt crushing me. I went home feeling energized.

When I drove down the driveway, through the untouched snow, I noticed a river of water running down the drive. I knew a pipe had burst. We had lived on this piece of land for 18 years. I felt completely defeated. In that moment the world stood completely still. I stopped the car, pounded on the steering wheel and screamed at the top of my lungs.

In the quiet that followed I heard the Spirit in my Soul whisper, “You have faithfully served a great love here and have lived someone else’s dream for long enough, it is time to find your own dream now.”

That day, I had clarity. I knew it was time to let go of the farm, despite all the advice not to make any big changes during the grieving process. I had to do what was right for me. I began searching for what my dream would be.

Slowly, one step at a time, I started taking baby steps toward living a life that I love. I began building a vision of what I want my life to be.

After my realization, I found other people had the same type of experience. They had a hard time learning how to dream again.

Most children dream daily, they can see and embrace their dreams. They act them out, they feel the joy in pretending their vision is happening now. As adults, we often lose the ability to just let go and dream. If you have lived through significant trauma you find it even harder to dream. Life seems to limit everything. But what if you could dream a new dream? What would it be?

So I felt a calling to help others live a life they love, to help them remember how to dream, to teach others steps to move forward, even if it is baby steps. You can climb Mount Everest if you continue taking one step forward at a time.

I made a major step in that direction. I invested in myself for the first time ever. I studied, I put in the work on myself. Today, I became a certified Dream Builder Life Coach.

I am so excited about what the futre has for me. And for you too! If you would like to know more, please let me know. In the weeks to come you will notice a new website here and also new Facebook and Instagram pages. I will still share the positive vibes I have always put out, they will just be a bit more focused.

Thanks for being here for me and thanks for reading.

Beautifully Broken

Thinking about the different twists and turns my life has taken, I sometimes wonder, “How I am still standing?” My life has had so many unbelievable chapters, I am hesitant to talk about them in great detail, or all at once. It seems too hard to believe that so much has happened to just one person.

Yet, it’s just me. All the twists and turns have made me who I am. And I like who I’ve become. I try to be a person of integrity, humor, and a bit of sass. Sure, when I look in the mirror I don’t always like what I see, but I’m a work in progress, as we all are. The cover doesn’t always match the book. There is a song I like by Gov’t Mule called Beautifully Broken, there is a verse that goes something like, “She’s so beautifully broken, shaped by the wind, dangerously twisted…” That’s how I feel sometimes.

Mosaic heart by charmin foth

I have often described Andy’s passing as the event that shattered me. I felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to the full-length mirror that was my life. The force of the blow exploded my world into a million sparkling pieces and left them at my feet to figure out what was next.

Amazingly though, this isn’t the first time I’ve been shattered, I’ve been broken so many times that some of the fragments have turned to dust and there is no picking up those pieces. The dust gets swept under the rug. I don’t think a person ever loses the trauma they survived, it comes back from time to time as the dust blows around and you have to sweep it up again.

Each time my life shattered, I bent over and started picking up the pieces and gluing me back together, one piece at a time. I didn’t know what else to do. I have never been a negative person, I truly believe every experience teaches us something. There is a Nelson Mandela quote that says something along the lines of “I never lose, I either win, or I learn.” So, I am learning as I go. Living is about learning.

For the last two years, I have picked up one piece after another and put it back where I felt it fit best. Remembering parts of me that I lost, finding new colorful pieces to add. The thing about shattered mirrors is you see yourself from every possible angle. If I’m honest, I know the parts that need work, the parts that don’t show me in the best light, the parts that are rough and jagged, the parts that are smooth and shiny, there are so many different pieces, but they are all me. All the pieces still fit together, just not in the same way.

I shocked myself. One day I looked up and almost all the broken pieces were put back together. The mosaic of shattered pieces had created a beautiful heart that was ready to beat again and a spirit of resilience I want to share with others. The mirror of my life will never be a solid mirror again, but by being broken, by God helping me piece it back together, I have become something new. My life doesn’t look the same as it did before, truly, I’m not the same person I was before. Each time I have been shattered, and I get it together again, I am different. Life shapes us, the mosaic changes. It is still the same pieces creating a new piece of art. It is hard to understand, but I am the same, yet different.

Ashlee Simpson also has a song called Beautifully Broken. She sings, “I’m beautifully broken and I don’t care if you know it, I’m beautifully broken and I don’t care if I show it.”

I like who I am now, I’m not perfect and never will be, but who wants perfect? Perfect is boring. I would much rather be real than perfect, and I think I’m finally comfortable with that concept. I recently told someone, we are all broken, and it doesn’t matter how broken we are, it matters what we do with the pieces. If the pieces of my brokenness can somehow help mend the pieces of your brokenness, I think that’s God at work in His truest form.

Happy Anniversary, Baby

Hello again, my life has been upended since my last post. My world shattered into a million sparkling pieces, each piece a memory, some are smooth and reflective and some are jagged and cut deep. I’ve been encouraged to write about the memories, to share the wisdom, the pain, the joy, and the humor that God has given me on this journey.

On November 11th, Veteran’s Day, my husband died. It was his favorite holiday, where he saluted and shared veteran stories, and spent time with the older guard to hear their stories. It was a reverent day for him and now it will always be for me.

It wasn’t COVID, we didn’t know it was coming. He went to work on November 10th, like it was any other day, and he had a massive stroke on a job site. He was life-flighted to UT hospital where they removed several clots, and they were hopeful he would recover somewhat, but he stroked again in the middle of the night.

How I wish I had that morning to do over again. I would have held him a little longer, kissed him a little deeper, but I sent him on his way with a quick “I love you. See you tonight, and keep me posted on your day.” I know he knew I loved him, but I needed more time.

Best Anniversary Gift EVER! Surprise Vow Renewal.

We had been together for 26 years. Married for 24 years, this year on May 30th, it would have been 25 years. The running joke between us was that he would never be able to top our 15th wedding anniversary. Listen up husbands, because Andrew set the bar really high, he knew how to bring out the big guns and make things special. He paid attention and he GOT me, he knew WHO I was and what MATTERED to me. I didn’t need lots of pomp and circumstance, or extravagant gifts, I needed laughter, honesty, loyalty, and love and he gave me all of those in abundance.

Our wedding was on May 30th close to Memorial Day, a military 4-day weekend. We both had to work that day but agreed to meet at the Montgomery County clerk’s office during our lunch hour. We paid $15 to get married and I still say it was the best $15 we ever spent! I remember we both cried because the county commissioner, Joe Creek, who married us, did the most beautiful ceremony. I wished we had videos or photos of it, but we were so poor at the time we didn’t even own a camera. Andy was in fatigues and I was in office attire, we had sliver bands, not gold. Andy loved to tell folks he took me to McDonald’s for our reception and he let me supersize. He went back to the flight line at Ft. Campbell and I went back to the office, where my boss got me a funeral arrangement of flowers and laughed that we really knew how to throw a wedding! The party of life began after we got home that evening.

Now fast forward 15 years, 2011. The few months before our wedding, he was making plans, he had every person in the church in on it and kept it close to the vest. I didn’t know a thing. On the morning of our anniversary, he told me to wear a dress I liked and meet him in the car. It was Memorial Day weekend and he usually did something to honor fallen veterans, so I didn’t think anything about it. He had invited some of our family, friends, and coworkers to church and to lunch afterward.

Still, it didn’t set off any warning bells that he was up to something. After the service, Andy went to the front and I thought, “ok, he’s going to read a poem or something about fallen soldiers and how freedom isn’t free.” He then asked me to the front of the church, got down on one knee, and asked me to marry him again! I was not prepared, I had bubble gum in my mouth and no place to put it. I chewed gum through the whole thing, like a cow chewing cud. I was so taken aback I didn’t even know what was coming next. He asked our pastor at the time Clarence if he would marry us again. Here I am in black, 25 lbs heavier than I should be and I am getting married, AGAIN. Did it matter that I was fluffy, dressed in black, and chewing gum? No! Not in the least bit.

The fact that he wanted to give me a wedding with family and friends around me, a community of people who loved us, spoke more to me than any diamond ever could. If I had waited on a perfect dress, perfect venue or a perfect body, I would have missed the greatest moment. A moment I now treasure even more because I won’t have another anniversary with him this side of heaven.

I couldn’t believe how the folks in the church came together for me. He told them we had never had a real reception or a fancy cake, so Jackie Ervin made me the most beautiful cake with purple butterflies on it, they decorated the fellowship hall in purple, everyone brought food, we ate and hugged and laughed and friends made a mess of my car, but it was a glorious day, a day I never expected, but God knew I would need it one day in the future to look back on and know that Andy loved me that much, that God loved me that much.

Some memories are beautiful, but they can still be painful in the midst of grief. I believe we have to feel all the feelings that come and deal with it as it happens. I found the video going through photos and it brought the day flooding back, making me laugh and cry all at the same time. In grief, you feel every emotion in moments’ time.

This is not the life I wanted, I am not happy about it, I am angry, frustrated and alone, but I have a sense of peace. Andy wouldn’t have wanted to be here if he was unable to be himself. His advanced directive stated as much. Even when he had a cold, he was not a good patient, so I know that’s true.

It is hard to see the next step right now. When you are in the valley you can’t see the beauty of what God is doing until you climb to the mountain top and see where you’ve been and how God has brought you through. God works everything for His good. Even from the terrible heartbreak, I feel now, I know God will use it somehow. If we tramp down the feelings, ignore them or run away from them, we don’t heal. I believe God uses our tears to cleanse our souls and heal our hearts, but we have to share our tears with Him.

I”m closing for now, thanks for reading. I will share more once I’ve stocked up on Kleenex.

Blessings and peace,

Charmin