I don’t do favorites…do I?

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“What’s your favorite color?” asks my daughter. I am going to revamp my bedroom as a summer project. I need a fresh look. And I’m thinking I need to erase some lingering memories.  My daughter is excited to help me pick out new bedding, furniture, and of course paint colors. So at least that makes one of us…

“I don’t do favorites…”I reply. It’s my standard answer. But this time it doesn’t feel right…

“Why not? Everyone has favorite’s mom!” she points out.

“I don’t.” I maintained. But maybe I should start…

But I don’t ‘do’ favorites. Right? I gave those up. I haven’t done favorites since I was a kid. And I’m always amazed about how often this subject comes up. People want to know what your favorites are.  I guess it tells something about you as a person. It’s a get to know you strategy for many. When people ask me these favorite questions they seemed shocked that I don’t have an answer! It’s such an easy question right???

“What’s your favorite food? What’s your favorite color? What’s your favorite song? What’s your favorite…” The list goes on and on.

So if your favorites tell something about you as a person… What do my lack of favorites say about me? Does it say that I am noncommittal? Indecisive? Boring? What? I’m not sure. I don’t think I am any of those things. But I’ve been wrong before.

I personally think that favorites change. Pretty often. I think they are based on your mood, the weather, the people around you, and your age. And none of those things stay the same. Change is the most consistent thing about being a person. (So for all those people out there who say they can’t change– I again call bullshit…)I obviously don’t like the same TV shows now that I did when I was 11. My favorite go to snack is no longer a Twinkie. I’ve changed!

Then you become a mom. And that changes everything again. When your kids are little they are all about the questions. They especially love the ‘favorite’s’ questions. Kids are never shy about letting you know what they like best! And they desperately want to know what your favorites are. But if you slip up and go down that road with your little darlings… you quickly find yourself facing the “who’s your favorite child” question. It was a trap! You now have to come up with the creative “You’re my favorite 7 year old!” “You’re my favorite daughter!” “You’re my favorite boy with a name that starts with a W.” You have to think on your feet when you are a mom. One slip up and you’re going to pay…

But that isn’t the only reason I decided to boycott favorites. I think I just only realized recently that it goes deeper than that. As an adult I never really believed that my ‘favorite’ mattered. I mean who cares if my favorite color is green. The X likes yellow so that’s the color we were painting the kitchen. It’s not even going to be up for discussion. Who cares what my favorite radio station is. When the X is in the car we are going to listen to the game. And my favorite restaurant…really seems irrelevant. I’m just a stay at home mom with no income of my own. The X is paying. We are eating where he wants. And my favorite thing to do is spend time with you. To bad. He’s busy. So I lost my voice. And my favorites. I conditioned myself not to care. It was just easier that way. I told myself what mattered most was that the people around me were happy. Let someone else pick…  Not calling out my favorite seemed like a good way to avoid disappointment.

But I think I’ve been wrong. I think I need to find my favorites. Maybe it’s an important part of the process of me figuring out who I am and what I need. If I don’t tell anyone my favorite won’t I always be disappointed?  I should embrace my likes with the same enthusiasm as the adorable 7 year old girl I once was. Life was easier then anyway. And definitely more fun.

So here it goes. Some of my favorites. Today anyway…

Favorite color: Green

Favorite food: Bolognaise

Favorite song:  Love Yourself

Favorite animal: Turtle

Favorite vacation spot: The beach

Favorite season: Fall

Favorite movie: Pride and Prejudice

Favorite flower: Pink roses

Favorite thing to do: Spend time with people I love…

 

Just don’t ask me my favorite shoes. There are too many I haven’t even met yet…👠

 

 

But they have each other…

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A friend of mine called me the other night…she was upset. She was struggling to get the words out through her tears. She had just been to the hospital to visit a family member who had recently been diagnosed with cancer.  This man is in his 60’s. He is hardworking. He is a family man. He has been there for my friend when she needed him. It’s not fair! Cancer is horrible… She was feeling understandably sad. She described him and his wife as just good old fashioned nice people. They live a simple life. And they are in love. She described them lying together in his hospital bed.

‘Should we get you a cot?’ she asked his wife. She was trying to be helpful.

‘No. We fit together just fine’ his wife replied. They haven’t been married  long. And now that they have found each other they don’t want to let go. I could picture them contentedly resting together in a hospital bed. Holding hands. She even described them smiling and laughing.

As my friend finished her story we both sat silently on the phone for a minute. Absorbing it quietly.  You see there is something in that story that we both want. Something so incredibly beautiful.  In that hospital room were two people who have found each other to love. They have succeeded in finding a fulfilling and unconditional romantic love. And that is something special. It is something different than the love between a parent and child. (Which is no less awesome…) But it is different.  They chose each other. They have committed themselves to one another, for better or for worse. And right now they are facing the ‘worse.’  This couple is facing something terrible. But they aren’t alone. They have each other. So that makes it bearable.

When I’m out and about I am always fascinated by the elderly couples. I admire them. On any given Sunday after church you will see an older couple out to lunch. Wearing their best clothes and talking quietly to each other across the table. I love it! I am inspired by stories of couples celebrating their 50+ years together.  I enjoy seeing those sweet pictures of golden anniversaries on Facebook.  Or how about the bittersweet stories of couples who die just hours apart…those articles get me every single time. Bring on the Kleenex.

Because you know what? Those people didn’t have perfect lives. Perfect lives don’t exist! In fact they probably had some really hard times. I’m positive they did! Everyone has problems. Money problems. Work problems. Family problems. Health problems. They had stress and strife. Maybe they even dealt with infidelity! I bet they even fought over dishes and laundry. Over bad kids and overbearing mother-in-laws. Who doesn’t!  But guess what? They stuck it out. Together. It seems to me that those couples who are able to stick it out through all the shitty stuff that life throws at them…they are rewarded with the great stuff in the end.  And in my mind that is a beautiful thing.

As divorced woman in my 40’s this is something that I think about.  I don’t mean for it to sound pathetic. Or needy. But it is something I want. I want someone to ‘grow old’ with! Not because I’m afraid of being alone. At least not entirely… I want to find someone to ‘grow old’ with because I think it would bring joy to my life. It would represent my ability to come full circle. Maybe it will be marriage. Maybe not. But it will be a relationship that I can count on. A person that chooses me above all others. And vice versa. The older you get the more clear it becomes that the true successes in life have to do with the relationships that you build. The love that you share. The commitments you keep. It won’t be about how much money is in your wallet, how successful your company is, what car you drove, or how clean your kitchen was. It won’t even be about the shoes that you wear.  It will all be about love.

And love is beautiful no matter what shoes it is wearing.👠

 

LOVE CAN RULE THE WORLD…❤️

This picture is a lie…

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I received a text about something that I have been ‘putting off’ from one of my mom friends last night. Not really purposely putting off. There was no ‘screw that’ I’m not going to do it. I have had the best intentions! I promise!  I just haven’t been able to focus on it yet. I haven’t been able to pull my big girl panties up high enough I guess.  There has been a lot going on lately and I hate to say it…but I have been a bit overwhelmed. My oldest son is graduating from High School. It is an exciting and emotional time. I still remember my High School graduation like it was yesterday-so it seems a bit surprising that I am old enough to have a son graduating now. But all it takes is a quick look in the mirror to bring me back to the all too real reality. I’m definitely old enough.

“We need your pictures. The ones for the kids video,” she texted. We are having a graduation party next weekend with a group of his friends, and part of the plan is to have a slideshow with pictures of each of the graduates. I know my son will love it. All I have to do is come up with 20 photos for our part.

“When?” I text back with a sigh. Wondering how long I have…

“Yesterday.”

“Great!” I reply. Shit. Perfect. Of course.

So it should be easy right? Come on now. Get some pictures together! Call it done. But it’s not that easy. Not for me. Not even close. I have a hard time with pictures. I haven’t even unpacked them from their box since the divorce. They are hidden away deep in the back of a closet in the basement. I never had the nerve to tackle them since the move. Digging through boxes of photos, notes, and mementos of my married life has never sounded very appealing. In fact, it seems painful. And pain is something I tend to avoid.

Family pictures are a wonderful thing. They are snapshots of your life together. Usually the best times of your life! They show birthdays, holidays, milestones, and special occasions. When your child learns to ride their bike you grab your camera. It’s the first day of kindergarten, let’s take a picture! They tell a story of a beautiful, happy, and fun life!  But apparently that isn’t the life we were really living…

There are no pictures of the fights. There are no photos of the resentment and hurt feelings. Nowhere in those pictures does it show how much time my X spent away from home. There is no evidence of a house that wasn’t kept clean enough. No one grabbed a camera the night I found out about the affair, or the day that he left. Those things are only recorded in my memories. And those memories aren’t as easy to pack away as the box of pictures.

For me it’s hard to separate the pictures from my memories. Each picture brings with it a flood of emotions.  When I run across any old photos I tend to search them carefully. Trying to find clues for what was to come. I often have said that when my world came crashing down it felt like the life I had been building was a lie. The foundation was made of sand. A picture popped up recently on Facebook of our family several years ago. It was a nice picture. My X and I were smiling and standing in my sister’s kitchen. And my first thought was that in this picture he has a girlfriend. A girlfriend that he eventually will leave us for. This picture is a lie. And that hurts.

Thankfully for them I think my kids see it differently. They like the photos. They find comfort remembering their childhood. They like to reminisce about when we were all together. My daughter loves to hear stories about our Wedding, the day she was born and about what her brothers were like when they were small. It’s all part of her story! And her brothers feel the same way. I think it’s every child’s secret wish that their divorced parents will someday reunite…so they like looking at the good times. They don’t remember the struggles between the X and me. They were little kids!

So tonight I will pull up my big girl panties, wear my high heels and dig through those damn boxes. I won’t like it. I will hate it. And I may even cry.

But I love my Son. And he does look pretty cute in those pictures…

 

 

What are your plans for the summer…

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I had a long talk with a friend this morning. One that made me feel slightly less alone with my ‘single divorced mom’ situation. She is a single mom with kid…like me. And she was lamenting about her X. And the incredible struggle she was having making her summer plans. Because of…you know…the ‘visitation schedule.’

“You won’t believe the text I got from my X last night,” she sighs as she scrolls through her phone.

“What about?” I ask with concern. I know from experience it could be anything.

“Summer.” she replies.

“Ahh.” I understand immediately. Enough said. The fucking visitation schedule.

The visitation schedule is always a pain in the ass. To say I hate it doesn’t do my feelings justice.  It is literally the number one reason that I have to look at my calendar daily. Not to keep track of meetings at work. Not to keep from missing my dentists appointments. Not to make sure I don’t forget anyone’s birthday. But the number one reason I look at my calendar every single day is to figure out where the hell my kids are going to be from day to day, week to week, and month to month.  When someone asks me a simple question like ‘hey do you want to get tickets to take the kids to a baseball game May 11th’ I can’t say ‘sure that sounds fun!’ Instead I have to reply with ‘let me check my calendar and see if I will have the kids.’ The visitation schedule is like an unwanted member of the family. It is what my oldest son would call an ‘attention whore.’ And we all know how I feel about whores…

But summer adds a whole new level of fun to the deal!  It’s why when people ask me the innocent question ‘What are your plans for the summer’ I get a lump in my throat. My naive and innocent love of  summer evaporated with my marriage. My X gets 2 weeks’ vacation with the kids every summer. Seems reasonable right? Totally reasonable!  And in theory it is…  But my X does something extra special fun with his 14 days. His 336 hours. He breaks them up into tiny pieces and then strategically places them in between his normal visitation days. This allows him to do fun things like take all of the weekends. Or keep them 5-6 days in a row. It lets him disrupt the kids schedule in the absolutely most intrusive way possible. I don’t think he could make it more inconvenient for his children if he tried. But I think he is trying.  Maybe he just sees it as an inconvenience to me. But if he thinks that, he couldn’t be more wrong.  It’s fucking awful.

I know the intention of the 2 weeks’ vacation that my X received after our divorce. I was there. In all those meetings. With all those lawyers. I was part of the discussion. And I remember it clearly. The intention of those 2 weeks was so the X could take them on trips. Fabulous uninterrupted vacations. So they could do something great together. For 2 weeks in a row… But that is not how my X works. He has calculated to the exact hour what time he is ‘owed’ and he plans to use it in a way that maximizes the time his children are spent away from me. They are without the comfort of their normal schedules. They never understand it and they refuse to try. It’s their way of protesting the whole damn thing. And who can blame them. They didn’t ask to be slaves to a calendar!

So yay! It’s summer! Isn’t this fun…☀️

 

***And I have to be honest about something. The other reason I hate summer.  Or how about the real reason I hate summer.  I’m alone. My kids are gone and I miss them. I hate summer…and divorce.

Of course I love you…

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I have another question. And this one isn’t about sex. Not this time. It is about a relationship. Specifically, it is about one of my relationships. I was having a ‘discussion’ with someone important to me recently and I made this statement.

“Actions speak louder than words” I informed him passionately. It’s something I have always heard. And that I have always believed. I was confident in my statement.

“Words speak louder than actions” was his reply.

“Huh???” I don’t think so… What are you talking about? I have never seen that on a bumper sticker. But as the days have gone by I have thought about his statement more than once. Which is it? Who’s right? Who’s wrong?  Is there a right answer? So you know that I of course Googled it. And Google seemed to agree with me. There are many songs and poems written about it. They seem to agree with me. My friends all say that they agree with me. But I’m still trying to be opened minded. To see his side. Can it go both ways?

My experiences with ‘words only’ haven’t been that great I have to admit. Have you ever heard of a lie? I have. Words are easy. They can be a quick fix. ‘Of course I love you!’ A well placed I love you can heal a lot of things. Saying I love you is a crucial part of a successful relationship. It’s definitely something I want to hear. Need to hear. Something that I love to hear! But it’s also something that I don’t always believe… I’m sure that my X told me he loved me thousands of times over the course of our marriage. But guess what? He didn’t. (That’s why we are divorced…) We have all heard it before. Words are cheap. And that’s why they can’t always be trusted. People can easily manipulate you with words. Even when they don’t mean too… ‘I am your person.’ ‘I think you are beautiful.’ ‘You make me laugh.’ ‘I miss you.’ All these things are nice to hear. Important to hear! They can diffuse a fight and make the difference between a good and bad day.  But in my mind they don’t hold a candle to action.

Nothing makes me feel more loved than lying in bed with someone who unconsciously reaches over to touch you. Maybe even while they are sleeping. Just to make sure that you are still there. They are checking to see that you are okay. They want to feel you next to them. Hear you breathing.  Being held at night by someone who loves you can be one of the safest feelings in the world. It is an action that speaks volumes about how someone feels about you. How important you are to them. Or how about when you are sitting quietly at home with someone you love and you notice them staring at you-their expression filled with love. Even when you have no make-up on and your hair is a mess. What a beautiful thing. Those spontaneous and unrehearsed actions are priceless.

But what about what ‘he’ said. About the words. Does he have a point? Maybe for some people saying the words is difficult! I have heard stories from people who say that their mothers never actually said the words ‘I love you’ to them. That seems crazy to me! I assume that these mothers showed it through their actions. Let’s hope! But I bet those children longed to hear those three simple words from their mothers.

So is that the answer? Does it have to be a combination of both? Do we all just want what we don’t have? Or are we both right?? Maybe the most important thing is just making sure the person you love is getting what they need. Even when you don’t understand it. Maybe it’s about balance. It’s not just saying I value you…its about showing it as well.

Like all my questions…this one is complicated.

So I guess that leads me to another question. How do you guys feel about compromise??👠

Bravo to her…

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It’s Mother’s Day. Happy Mother’s Day!

I have to admit it’s a strange holiday for me. It always has been. During my marriage Mother’s Day tended to revolve around my mother-in-law. It was a holiday she didn’t love sharing… My X wasn’t to passionate about providing a wonderful Mother’s Day experience for me either. I think even he was a bit exhausted by his own mothers need to be Queen of the Day. And let’s not forget- he really didn’t like me that much. I had an ugly memory pop in my head recently of a mother’s day about 12 years ago. Actually the Saturday night before. I had three small children under the age of six. In general I was exhausted. We got in a fight about my lack of ‘housekeeping skills.’ And he bitterly told me something I still think about to this day. More often than I should. ‘We should sell this house and buy a trailer. That’s the only kind of home you deserve. You aren’t cut out for this.’ Happy fucking mother’s day to me…

This weekend my oldest friend (not elderly-just friends since kindergarten) posted a picture of her kitchen on Facebook. And it wasn’t one of ‘those’ pictures of a ‘perfect’ kitchen. Not the kind of picture that makes me want to drive to that woman’s house, ring her doorbell and literally smack her in the face. Hard. It was a real picture! Of a (gasp) messy kitchen. With newspapers, binders, pictures, lists, clutter, dishes. You know. Stuff. Life. Real life. And it was spectacular. Bravo to her. She got comment after comment saying ‘Thank you! That’s just what I needed to see today.’ What a perfect celebration of motherhood.

For me allowing people in my home is almost the equivalent to letting them see me naked. It’s my home. My life. My personal space. And when it comes to opening the front door…I have issues. Especially with men. If you are a man in my house at this point in my life…I really must like you. More than that, I trust you. It’s not that I have any horrible secret to hide. My house is what I consider pretty normal for a single working mom with three kids. Or for any mom for that matter. It’s not perfect. I gave up perfect a long time ago. But I spent most of my marriage being made to feel ‘less’ because of my X’s disappoint in my homemaking skills.

Being a mom is messy. It’s hard. Kids are like little tiny tornados of clutter. That turn into teenagers. Who are big giant tornados of clutter. It’s impossible to keep up. At least every minute. Sometimes your just too tired. Or too busy. Or you just don’t give a shit. Sometimes other stuff is more important. Like watching TV. Or drinking a glass of wine. Or doing nothing.

I have had some women tell me some pretty impressive  ‘things’ over the years. Things that stuck with me. And made me feel like a shitty wife and mother. Things that reinforced my X’s disappointment in me. Things that made me think maybe he was right. I remember years ago a woman telling me she couldn’t go to sleep at night until all of her son’s action figures were placed neatly on the shelf in her son’s room. Each figure holding his accessories and facing forward. And did I mention that her sons room looked like a bedroom from a model home? Not like something a real boy lived in. Definitely not like my boy’s room. I remember just nodding in agreement while thinking…’WTF are you talking about? You really do that?’ Another perfect mom told me that everything in her refrigerator had to be facing forward neatly at all times. Otherwise her whole day would be ruined! Ruined I tell you! And yet another mommy dearest who hand washed and dried all her daughter’s clothes to keep them looking ‘nice’ longer. She didn’t trust her own washer and dryer. I think she might have been a robot.

I’m tired of seeing pictures on Facebook that make it look like most of the people I know live in a Pottery Barn catalog. It exhausts me. It’s to perfect. And perfect makes me nervous… I don’t trust it. I think that life is messy. Chaotic. Busy. And that’s okay. Life is about what is happening in that kitchen. Not how nice it looks. Who cares about the clutter?! Seriously. Who fucking cares. This is not some competition ladies! If you are judging people by their how their kitchen looks- I don’t think we can be friends. Or at least I don’t want to be. Not anymore.

So cheers to my oldest friend! You win the award today for most awesome. Today I want to be wearing your shoes…👠

That’s just how I am…

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So I have a ‘pet peeve.’ Actually it’s a little more than a pet peeve. That makes it sound trivial. It’s something that totally irritates the shit out of me. And more seriously than that- it has caused me great pain in my life.

It’s that person that acts like a total bitch about something…and then say’s ‘that’s just how I am’ when you have finally had enough and you get up the nerve to mention it to them. Wait a minute here… What? Is that an excuse? An explanation? What do you mean that’s ‘just how you are’? You mean you’re being a total bitch right now and you’re okay with it? And now you want me to be okay with it as well because apparently you are too lazy to change your behavior. And by the way this basically means that you are expecting me to change my behavior in some way so that I can deal with your issues.  Hmmm… Does that actually make sense to you? Does it make sense to anyone? I’m seriously asking here! Is this behavior okay?

Listen friends… ‘That’s just how I am’ is the equivalent of ‘I’m just saying.’ And you shouldn’t be saying either. Especially if you are over the age of 13.  Let me give you an example.

I have a ‘friend’ who seems to be quite moody. Downright difficult. You don’t always know where you stand with her.  And it can be tiring. But if you mention this to her she unapologetically replies ‘That’s just how I am.’ As if she has no control over her own behavior. She can just be ‘who she is’ without any of the repercussions.  As if people are incapable of changing their behaviors. In her mind it’s not her problem-it’s yours. She has no responsibility in this.

I’m guessing it’s obvious that I’m going to bring this back around to my X.  My X was a big believer that people couldn’t change. He used that excuse often. He was just being him. And that was the end of it. Deal with it.  I on the other hand have the opinion that people change every day. People who say they can’t change just don’t want to. They don’t feel they need to. It’s easier to quit than to grow as a person. They obviously think that their feelings about any given situation trump yours. It’s narcissistic behavior at it’s best.  Maybe that is what really bothers me. I can still here my X’s voice in my head clearly. ‘People don’t change. Especially not at my age.’ ‘This is how I was raised. This is how my family was.’ Newsflash– your parents didn’t seem to have that great of a marriage. And your family doesn’t seem that happy with each other. I’m not sure how you don’t see that?! (And btw…it has been scientifically proven that you CAN teach old dogs new tricks. Age is irrelevant. Are you not as smart as a dog??) To me that attitude is the ultimate in selfish behavior. It’s immature and hurtful. If your behavior consistently is causing problems in your relationships-with people you supposedly care about-maybe…just maybe… you should consider a little self-reflection.

Maybe you can change. If you try. I believe you can! Isn’t that what life is really about? Is it really that impossible to try something different? To try something new for the people in your life? If you really are incapable of change- maybe you aren’t as smart as you think you are.

Actually…lets be honest. You definitely aren’t as smart as you think you are.👠

 

***And I recently read a quote which I found to be perfect. “A man who views the world the same at fifty as he did at twenty has wasted thirty years of his life.” Muhammad Ali

 

 

The invisible woman?

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My #2 son is a huge super-hero fan. He and his friends are total comic book nerds. (Which in my opinion makes them some of the coolest people in the entire world…)  They have spent endless time discussing who their favorite heroes are, analyzing which are the best super powers, debating Marvel vs. DC, attending Comic Con, and judging which super hero movies are the best of the best. The list goes on and on. He has always had a fascination with super powers. I can picture him clearly playing for hours with his brother and cousin on the trampoline in the backyard of our old house when he was little.  Each one of them would choose a super power and ‘battle’ for an entire afternoon. And it would always lead to the inevitable question from him, ‘Mom what do you want your super power to be?’

What do I want my super power to be? I have some idea’s. I haven’t analyzed it like #2, but I have some thoughts. I would like to be like Elastigirl from the Incredibles. Having a body that always bounces back seems pretty awesome. What woman doesn’t want that? She doesn’t have to worry about stretch marks.  Super speed seems pretty enticing as well. Getting all my shit done in a blink of an eye would be fantastic.  And sometimes… I already feel like I am invisible. But not in the good ‘super power’ way.  More like the ‘I feel like people (men) can easily overlook me…and my needs’ way. And that is something I need to work on. That kind of invisible is no fun.

I think I have a hard time putting my own needs first. I definitely have a hard time asking for attention. I seem to clam up instead. Which in the end makes me resentful and angry. But asking for attention is hard! And I guess I’m not sure that I should… As a woman and mother we are conditioned to put other people first. And they don’t have to ask! It actually feels natural to me. I think it is natural for a lot of people. Nice people. Mom people. Loving people. And truthfully-I think the only thing that makes that wrong is when those same ‘people’ aren’t willing to do the same for you. That is when you start to feel invisible. When I wake up in the morning before my feet even hit the floor I have thought about all those people closest to me and what they need. What are they doing today? What do they need from me? I am checking off a mental list of what my ‘people’ need in my head. Even if all I do is worry about what they are facing-I’m always thinking about whatever their challenge is. They are always on my mind. I’m thinking positive thoughts. Saying silent prayers. I feel vested in my ‘people’…and their problems. And I am always so proud of their successes! I am their #1 fan. I love them.

But I have noticed something about some men. Or specifically the men I have chosen to be a part of my life. Like my X.(And I know that there are other ones out there. I know that this can’t be about ‘all’ men. At least I think it can’t. Please please please…)  The men that I so brilliantly chose to be part of my life had a different super power. They are able to wake up in the morning and just think about their needs. That’s it. They are looking out for themselves. And everyone else comes second. That is what comes natural to them. Their number one priority is them. It’s that simple. And this amazes me. Their super power is selfishness. And that is just such a foreign concept to me!  You are only worried about you…until your list is crossed off. And then you might eventually worry about me if it fits into your schedule? And the kids? I’m not sure how to respond to this. I just can’t wrap my head around it.

And please don’t tell me the airplane scenario here. You know the one. About if the plane is going down put on your oxygen mask first. Put yourself first. That’s a pretty fucking unique situation. Yes we all have situations when we need to put our needs first. But not every time. Not every day. There has to be balance! If you put yourself first every single time- you are selfish. It’s not always about your day at work. Your litany of problems. What your friends are doing. Not everyone cares about your Wednesday night card game with the guys. Or your intense love of duck hunting.  Life is about balancing your needs equally with the needs of the people you love. It can’t always be about you! Because if it is- it makes the other people in your life feel invisible.

And invisible is something I don’t want to be ever again. It makes me feel like I have no value. It makes me feel resentful. It makes me angry. It makes me unhappy.  I will from now on be a better advocate for myself! (I hope). I will chose people who can put other peoples needs first. I will do better. I don’t want to be invisible!

Not to mention…when I’m invisible, you can’t see my shoes…👠

Cinderella…and that damn Glass Slipper

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I recently tried watching the War of the Roses. Halfway through the movie I was so upset that I had to turn it off.  Does anyone remember that movie? It’s an old one. It stars Michael Douglas, Kathleen Turner, and Danny DeVito. It’s a dark comedy…about a vicious divorce. I remember being somewhat entertained by it years ago. It seemed so outrageous. In the movie the Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner characters are a married couple who from the outside would appear to have it all. But the resentment and anger were brewing under the surface like poison. And (spoiler alert) the anger, resentment and rage was so intense that they killed each other in the end. That’s right. The anger killed them.

And from where I sit right now I wonder if they didn’t have it easy. The anger during a break-up is consuming.  It’s like a fire in your blood. You are shocked and outraged. How could this happen? You don’t deserve this! No one deserves this. Screw him. What a SELFISH and despicable coward. He’s a weak excuse for a human being.  The anger is overwhelming.

But something worse quickly takes its place. Something much harder to endure than all that rage.  The pain and rejection you feel when someone you were in a longtime relationship with-someone you love- walks away…is brutal.  Devastating. I can’t even put into words how it makes you feel. It makes you feel empty inside and like you are being suffocated at the same time. Like your drowning. You bared your most personal self to someone that you think will be there for you forever. But instead they take a pass. You aren’t a priority. They’re busy. They don’t love you back. They don’t have time for you. You aren’t their person. And they lied when they said you were. They are going to find someone new. Or they already did find someone new? But regardless, they rejected you. And that rejection and pain are the real killers. But not quick and explosive like the anger. Slow and cruel like a terminal illness.

Rejection steals your self-esteem. Your confidence. It makes you wonder every single day why you weren’t enough. “What’s wrong with me?” you can’t help but ask yourself repeatedly.  It’s the question that haunts your dreams. It’s what you are thinking about when you wake up at 3am feeling like you can’t breathe. Why didn’t they want me? And why did they ever pretend at all? Didn’t they know that I loved them? No matter how many people tell you that it wasn’t you-it was them…you will never be able to fully believe it. “You will find somebody new! Someone better!” they say. Like it’s just that easy…  Rejection changes your ability to give love. To find love. It steals a very precious part of you away. Forever.

Finding a lifelong companion is still a secret dream of mine. “Where’s my white knight?” I ask myself stupidly.  I want that feeling of being loved unconditionally. Of being cherished. I want to feel what it must be like to have someone choose to put your happiness above their own. To have someone who can’t imagine life without me. I see it around me every single day. So it must be possible! At least I think it’s possible. Maybe I’m naive.  Or, as one of my best friends said to me last night, “I think we watched Cinderella to many times when we were little.” Yes. I guess we did.

Cinderella…you bitch. And that damn glass slipper.

Except for the sex part…

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When I decided to start blogging I only told a few of the people closest to me. I wanted to keep it on the down low.  I wasn’t writing for them. Or for my X. I was writing for me. And for people like me. The ones wearing divorce shoes. But those that I did talk to about it were very supportive.

“How cool!” they said. “It will be just like Sex and the City.”

“Umm…sure.” I hesitantly replied.  “Except for the sex part. And the city part. But I guess there is the shoe thing…”

When married people imagine your single life-I think they assume the sex part is great. You are a single adult-and why wouldn’t it be? And on that note, I have a couple of questions. Again. Just some things I’ve been thinking about. It’s totally not about me. Or my BDF (best divorced friend).  Really. I promise. It’s more of an ‘I’m just wondering’ question. And it is about sex.  I’m a 40ish year old woman. I’m supposed to be having the best sex of my life. I think. I heard that once and I guess it kind of stuck with me. It made me believe I still had time while I was married. It gave me hope.

If you aren’t having sex with someone you are dating… are you really dating? Or are you just friends? And I’m not talking about the mandatory time you wait before you start having sex with someone you just started seeing. If you even have one. (And for the record I know that is different for everyone. No judgment here.) What I’m asking is- if someone doesn’t want to have sex with you do they really even like you ‘that way’…or are you just friends? Are you a placeholder while they find someone else that they do want to have sex with? Is it that they are ‘just not that into you.’ (Literally…) And you are just ‘hanging out’?  Is this situation going anywhere? It’s so confusing. I mean are you going to find your soul mate in a person who isn’t attracted to you in a sexual way. With a man that doesn’t make intimacy (with you) a priority. Because guess what? I want intimacy. I think sex is pretty damn important. And I’m not the only woman who thinks so. At least I don’t think I am… That’s why I’m asking these questions!

Let me back track a little. Back to my marriage.  And my X. Obviously the sex wasn’t that great. I mean when we had sex it wasn’t terrible. But in my opinion we didn’t have enough. Every once in a while it was pretty good. But it definitely wasn’t ever mind blowing. Mainly- because it wasn’t a priority. For my X. And I was too embarrassed-or ashamed- to make it a priority for me.  For me that lack of intimacy represented rejection. It made me feel unattractive, unimportant and unloved.  All kinds of ‘un’s’. And with those ‘un’s’ my self-esteem plummeted. And my resentment grew.  Now-to make it worse- I know that it wasn’t that my X was too tired, or stressed, or unhappy to have sex. Because guess what? He was having sex. Just not with me! I was the only one missing out…

So maybe that’s my real concern now that I think about it. If they aren’t having sex with you are they having sex with someone else? Because I don’t think I could survive that again. Being someone’s second choice is too painful. (Or third or fourth choice… Depending on who you ask.)

Can you believe I’m a single divorced woman in my 40’s and still haven’t figured this shit out? I’m still worried about sex. And my numbers. (How many/how often). My gut tells me that if someone isn’t interested in you that way-its time to move on. But I don’t know… It’s so complicated! Maybe there is no ‘right’ answer.

But I just thought I would ask…