Tag: moving on

Where do you think he got those little glasses?

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I’m going to make a confession here. A ridiculous one. It’s private (and a little embarrassing) so don’t tell anyone. Sorry mom. I’ve never got a dick pic. A penis picture. A dicture. A phallus photo…

I know..I know. ‘Are you crazy?’ you ask. ‘Dick pics are disgusting!’ And you are right! I assume… I will have to take your word for it.

But let me explain myself here. It’s not so much that I think I want to receive photos of penises. I don’t think it would ever make me think- I want to date this guy! I assume it would actually have the opposite effect. And in my limited experience penises aren’t that attractive. But it seems like a modern day dating right of passage. (However…when I tried to discuss this with my BDF she didn’t even know what I was talking about. And she didn’t appreciate the google images I tried to show her…)

“How do you spell dick pic? It’s for my blog…”

“What are you talking about? Use it in a sentence” she asks.

“I just did. How do you spell dick pic?” Duh.

“I have no idea what your talking about…”she replies in confusion.

“Look- here’s an example.” I show her my google image results helpfully.

“OMG-Stop it. I can’t eat now…” She isn’t laughing.

“Look-this guy put a little hat, sweater and glasses on his. Where do you think he got those little glasses? That’s pretty creative. OMG-this one is wearing a Donald Trump wig!!!” I can’t help but be impressed by the effort-however creepy it may be. But at least I’m not the only one who is left out of this whole dick pic thing.

I got married youngish. Back when you were supposed to be in a serious relationship with anyone you had sex with-and every relationship had the potential for marriage and family. Why else be in a relationship? I was a good girl! It was before cell phones and online dating. Friends with benefits hadn’t been invented. (Or if you did have one you definitely didn’t talk about it.) We didn’t have a home computer. When we took pictures you had to take them somewhere to get them developed. Technology wasn’t part of your dating life. Unless you count the real live home phone attached to the wall in the kitchen and if you were lucky an answering machine.

My marriage spit me out as a middle age woman with a smart phone and no idea what to expect as a single lady. I’ve never swiped right. I’m not on match.com. I don’t know how to sext. I’ve never thought about having a friend with benefits. I don’t know how to have a relationship without secretly thinking about marriage. And no one has ever sent me a dick pic.

I’m middle aged. Outdated. Old fashioned. While I was busy having babies and disappointing my X…things changed. And I didn’t get the memo. I missed it! So as if starting over isn’t hard enough-now you get to try it in an updated world. With selfies, snapchat, Tinder and Instagram. And guess what? I take terrible selfies.

However…I do take great pictures of shoes.šŸ‘ 

(****Disclaimer. This is not a solicitation for penis pictures. It is meant to be a humorous blog about modern dating practices that I have no experience with. Please don’t send me any dick pics. šŸ†)

Divorced is divorced…

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Are you divorced? Because divorced is divorced. Right? I mean you found out about the affair, went through the break up, you showed up at the court house…it’s done. Over. Finished. But I’ve noticed something. Somedays I feel more divorced than others. Certain situations increase my divorced status from regular to extremely pathetic.

Let’s start with the #1 worst offender… The holidays. Specifically Thanksgiving through Easter. Christmas of course being the Ultimate of all holidays. And I’m not discounting Valentine’s Day. That was one of the first pieces of advice my BDF gave me.

“Listen…all holidays will suck. Just accept it. Avoid sappy commercials and set your expectations low,” she informed me.

“Ok…” I nod. Sniff sniff…muffled sob.

Holidays are forever changed. Especially as a parent. Think about it… What’s the best part of any holiday when you become a mom?! Experiencing it with your children. Seeing the joy on their faces. Creating traditions. Playing Santa. Being with extended families. Divorce fucks it all up. Now with that all encompassing parent plan looming…holidays are a year by year proposition. Everything hinges on the calendar. Not only for you and your kids- but for all of your family and friends. Your family is just as irritated as you that they have to worry about whether this is an even or odd year before making any plans. Is this the 1st or 3rd weekend? What bullshit. (And now that my kids are older I can tell you with 100% certainty that holidays accentuate their divorce status as well. And they aren’t happy about it. In fact- they are pissed.)

#2 on the list….illness or injury. Specifically-yours. I remember one of my first experiences with this one vividly. I had just moved into the new house after the divorce and the kids were at the X’s for the weekend. I couldn’t sleep and was going downstairs to switch a load of laundry over. And somehow…I tripped and fell down the stairs. It was an impressive fall. If it was a scene on a soap opera I would definitely have died. I mean…I fell all the way down the stairs. And did I mention there is a landing in between the top and bottom? But I kept on going. It hurt. It scared me. And as I laid at the bottom of the stairs catching my breath I had never felt more alone. If I had broke my neck no one would have known. I stayed there and cried for a long time. I had several bumps and bruises-but no one to show them to. I was divorced.

#3 Car trouble. This one is a bit embarrassing… But for me there is nothing like car trouble to make me feel single. I mean I know what to do. I am an adult. But adulting is hard. Especially by yourself. It pisses me off. In my marriage cars were the X’s department. So when I find myself sitting on the side of the road with a flat tire, or trying to decipher what the light on my dash means…I get mad all over again. My X didn’t hold up his end of the bargain! He’s helping the home wrecker with her car troubles…

My BDF had car trouble recently. And I could hear some very familiar emotions in her voice.

“Come get me. My car died.” She was pissed. Worried. And divorced.

“I’m on my way.” And I went immediately. Because I’m divorced too.

Mailing Christmas cards (or not), filing taxes, dealing with door to door salesmen, checking the basement for suspicious noises…they can make you feel alone. Because you know what? You’re divorced. And being divorced sucks. But remember your not necessarily alone. I’m right there with you. We are both wearing the same shoes.

And shoe shopping is something I always did alone anyway. I hope yours are as cute as mine…šŸ‘ 

Screw forgiveness…

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I have had countless people over the years tell me the importance of forgiveness.Ā  As if the answer to making the pain of my divorce go away lies only with me. (Like Dorothy and her damn ruby slippers-you always had the power within…)Ā  ā€˜The key to inner peace is forgivenessā€™ they say. ā€˜You canā€™t move forward without forgiveness.ā€™ ā€˜Forgiveness is for you- not for them!ā€™ Forgiveā€¦Forgiveā€¦Forgive. There are thousands of articles; inspirational quotesā€¦even religions trying to convince me of this. My BDF is always suggesting it to me.

But I call bullshit. I donā€™t want to forgive my X. And Iā€™m not going to. Why should I? So there!Ā  What are you going to do to me now?? Is lightening going to strike? Ā Am I tempting fate? Angering the universe? Attracting negative experiences with my blatant refusal to forgive? Maybeā€¦ But I doubt it.Ā  I think I will take my chances. Screw forgiveness.

You see- I think this constant pressure to forgive is just making people who have had something bad done to them feel worse. Not only have you had some kind of shitty life experience that apparently wasnā€™t your fault- but you better get over it quick. You need to forgive!! Itā€™s your duty. Your responsibility. Ā What a bunch of crap! I donā€™t need that! I donā€™t believe everyone deserves forgiveness. In my opinion there are three minimum requirements for forgivenessā€¦

1) The most obvious one is-drum roll please… The person has to be truly sorry for their actions. Like seriously down to the bottom of their soul- deeply sorry. So sorry that they never ever do it again. To anyone. ā€œIā€™m sorry I had an affair it was a terrible thing to do. BTW I want a divorce and Iā€™m marrying herā€¦ā€ ā€œIā€™m sorry I treated you terribly the last few years. But you were coming between me and my mistressā€¦ā€ Uhā€¦excuse me? That is not going to cut it. That is not an apology. Nope. Ā Move along. No forgiveness here.

2) Their behavior must change. No apologizing and getting up the next day and doing it all over again. Like Groundhogā€™s Day. Ā If they wake up the next day still an assholeā€¦Iā€™m not buying the snake oil apology that they are selling. Because itā€™s not real. Itā€™s fake. Itā€™s for themā€¦not for me. Itā€™s the ultimate scam in human behavior.

3) They must have no excuses. They accept total responsibility for their actions. No bullshit ā€œIā€™m sorry- but I was so unhappy. You didnā€™t give me what I wanted. You were such a disappointment.ā€ Thatā€™s not an apology. Thatā€™s an excuse. And not just any excuse-an excuse that makes this all my fault! Ā I absolutely hate the apology with a ā€˜butā€™ in it. Save your breath please. I donā€™t want to hear it. I have enough going on without your passive aggressive apology.

So whatā€™s a girl who wonā€™t forgive to do? Shall I just wither and die with my bitter withholding of ā€˜forgivenessā€¦ā€™ (Picture me here wringing my hands with a sad faceā€¦) Will the pain never be gone? Ā I donā€™t think so! I am still moving forward with my life. I still have happiness, joy, and laughter. Ā I am creating new memories to replace the old. Ā I cope. I drink wine and wear cute shoes. Ā But one thing I donā€™t doā€¦is forgive my X. Or the home wrecker.

They donā€™t deserve it. Screw them. And screw forgivenessā€¦

Tell her what she needs to hear…maybe.

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I have an old friend (old as in since High School friendā€¦not as in elderly…even though we are over 40ā€¦) that is going through a tough time in her marriage. Tough time is really an understatement. Itā€™s a shit show that I canā€™t even begin to understand. We havenā€™t been in touch much the last couple of years. But the bottom line is clear however-she and her husband don’t like each other. And their 2 kids are fully aware. If anyone every needed to get divorced itā€™s these two people. Yet- I know itā€™s not that easy.

She has called me recently reaching out for help. I know she needs what I needed not so long ago. Someone who has been through it. Someone who has walked in her shoesā€¦Ā  But I struggle with what to actually say to her. I canā€™t seem to say ā€˜you need to get a divorce.ā€™ The words get stuck in my throat. Even as a divorced woman who is beginning to see the perks of not being in a shitty marriage- I hesitate.

Why? Why is it such a dilemma to me? It feels like a moral dilemma. You see- I donā€™t believe in divorce. (Ironic…I knowā€¦)That is why I went through mine kicking and screaming. Divorce is bad. Period. Itā€™s never completely over. It has changed my childrenā€™s world drastically. I hate it. But- I am fully aware that a failing marriage isnā€™t fun either. For anyone. It steals your happiness, your self-esteem, and your energy. It steals your life. So whatā€™s my hang up? Iā€™ve been thinking about this for several days. Tell her to get her shit together and get divorced! Get a lawyer. Make a plan. Figure it out. Itā€™s inevitable anyway. Tell her what she needs to hear!

Recommending divorce to anyone is a risky business. I donā€™t know their intimate details. What they think about when they lay down to go to sleep at night. There is no guarantee that it will work out for the better for them.Ā  It might all blow up in their faces! Maybe hating each others guts is just a thing they do. Ā I just donā€™t knowā€¦ I’m not them.

So Iā€™ve come to a conclusion. Sort of.Ā  About the reason I canā€™t say it. And it (of course) can be laid at the feet of my X. I canā€™t stand to say the words out loud because I donā€™t want him to be right. It would seem hypocritical of me to recommend divorce to anyone elseā€¦right? I donā€™t believe in itā€¦right? I donā€™t want my X to think for one minute what he did was admirable.Ā  I seem unable to separate my personal baggage from my opinions about divorce in general. Itā€™s some complicated stuffā€¦

It goes against my grain to say it-but sometimes the end comes so that you can find a new beginning. It isnā€™t easy. Itā€™s incredibly difficult actually. Divorce isnā€™t a quick fix. And we canā€™t forget the kids-they are the ones paying the biggest price. Ā But…sometimes-you gotta throw in the towel and find a new life for yourself. I donā€™t know what that is yet for me. But Iā€™m figuring it out.

But for my old friend. The one with the husband who hates her. I hope she finds some divorce shoes she likes. Because sheā€™s going to need themā€¦

Have your cake and eat it too..

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Would it be ironic that I love Weddings? I guess the little girl in me that loved fairy tales and fancy dresses is still alive. You would have thought the divorce had killed her-but she is resilient. I love the idea of love. The flowers and dress and romance. The happily ever after. And let’s not forget the Wedding Cake! The cake is to die for…

I used to love to watch all the wedding shows. Four Weddings and Say Yes to the Dress were favorites of my daughter and I. As a married woman I found myself daydreaming about my husband and I renewing our vows. How romantic. Sigh. And apparently ridiculous… After the divorce I couldn’t even stand to be in the same room when my daughter watched them. It would make me pissed and sad at the same time. I mean who do these people think they are?!? Flaunting their love for the whole world to see. How rude!

Just watching other people’s weddings on TV made me feel like I had failed at something that is a normal milestone in most people’s lives. Like getting your drivers license, graduating from high school, going to college and turning 21. You grow up and get married.. Check that one off the list. Everyone’s doing it. I can do it…right? Well yes..I can get married. Staying that way is a different story. No marriage for me. No 25 year anniversary. Don’t even think about the 50th.

My BDF (best divorced friend) is sure she wants to remarry. I on the other hand… I can’t decide. It depends on the day and my mood. Like many things in my life I haven’t figured it out yet. Strangely enough- I had a stronger desire to remarry right after my divorce than I do now. I think I just wanted to prove that I could! I could have my cake and eat it too! Just like everyone else.

Now… I have a little more perspective. In the here and now not having a marriage seems okay. My marriage wasn’t good. And I don’t want to repeat that mistake. Holy shit..that thought alone could keep me single forever! There is a certain freedom in being the only adult in my house that I still need to explore. Remember those perks…

So I started watching the shows again. At first with the volume down. And I must admit that I still mute the sappy stuff. I never watch the vows. But I can tolerate watching other people’s joy..with minimal skepticism. I imagine my own children’s weddings now. Or my BDF’s. And I think about the joy that I wish for them.

When I am invited to a wedding- I am genuinely honored to be a part of their milestone. It gives me a bit of hope and a reason to drink wine and wear fancy shoes.

And I’m really looking forward to that Wedding Cake…

The Small Town Divorce

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There are many wonderful things about living in a small town. A sense of community. No traffic. Easy to find a parking space. You can drive anywhere in town in 10 minutes or less! People know you..

Which leads to the not so wonderful things about a small town divorce. People know you. They know your X. They’ve heard your story. They repeated your story. And they may not remember all of the details..but they remember the good stuff. The stuff that they can’t help mentioning when you pop up in their day. “You know her…her husband left her for that lawyer. I heard she totally lost it. So sad…” Every time they see you they will think of your ‘story’. You can count on that. And If you ever move forward enough to forget (which is probably very unlikely anyway)..you can count on them to remember.

In a small town you are guaranteed to run into your X. Usually at the most inconvenient times. When you aren’t wearing makeup and you are wearing your oldest pair of yoga pants for the second day in a row. When you are at the restaurant downtown trying to have a glass of wine with friends and just relax. At the bank. At Walmart. It’s a small town…you run into everyone at Walmart. And when you do have this run-in with your X…it sucks. It’s unpleasant. It’s awkward. It leaves me secretly hoping again that he would just move to fucking Alaska already.

You are also pretty much guaranteed a run in with the homewrecker. This is especially fun. You can count on running in to her on a day when you look like you have been run over by a truck. You are frazzled and busy and not even thinking about it…and boom. You are standing in the aisle at the Shoe Store and there she is. Buying boots. In your size. Perfect. I can’t even buy new shoes! It is literally the worst. I still have the overwhelming urge to pretend I have Tourettes and yell Slut. Loudly. I refrain..but barely. (Or maybe I did yell Slut..but I can’t really confirm or deny that story.) I secretly wish her the plague. I give her my bitchiest look. My defcon 5 laser vision burn in hell look. She looks away..

And for some reason people feel compelled to report to me about my X’s activities. Random facts. Completely irrelevant crap. And it still makes me cringe. This is what I mean when I say divorce is never done. We are linked together..not just to us. Not just to our kids. But to everyone in our small town. I don’t want to know that you saw my X drunk somewhere…or that he is a bad tipper. I don’t need to know you saw him at the football game. I don’t care if he was at a meeting you were at. It’s not my business if you think he is an asshole-I’m well aware of that fact already. I could care less about his mother. He left me. I consciously try not to think about him on a daily basis. I don’t need you to remind me.

So what’s a girl to do? It’s a small town divorce. Perfect your smile nod. Hold your head high and wear your cutest shoes. The good news with the current divorce rate..there will be someone new to talk about soon.

That reminds me..did you hear about Mr & Mrs Nextinline?

So what’s the point?

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My bdf (best divorced friend) is sure that everything bad we go through has some kind of a purpose. Like divorce. Like break-ups. It’s a learning experience. She thinks that once you wade through the pool of shit of whatever you are currently struggling with..there will be something better waiting on the other side. One of Oprahs ‘ah-ha’ moments. The holy grail..

I’m unconvinced. It seems to me that sometimes we wade through the shit..to find a mountain of shit on the other side. Or maybe the pool gets a little shallower..more like a puddle. But still no prize in sight. And the smell is atrocious. Life is just like that.

And that’s the hard part. I think that’s why we all get stuck. We need it to have meaning. I mean surely all this pain wasn’t for nothing? Right?! Ā If we can just figure out the why..the lesson..we can move on and find the good that is waiting patiently for us somewhere. And so here we all are-standing in crap- and can’t figure out where to go next. Plus..I’m getting used to the smell anyway.

So what’s the point? The skeptic in me says maybe by trying to figure out what happened and why..we become to afraid to move forward. To try again. I mean we definitely want to avoid being hurt again. And how are we going to avoid it if we haven’t figured out the answer? That’s logical..right?

For several years after my divorce I dreamed about my X almost every night. Not good dreams. The ones where you wake up in a full blown anxiety attack. Even my subconscious was trying to come up with a why for me. But the truth is that a why is really hard to come by in relationships gone bad. Because his side and her side don’t match up. He obviously doesn’t realize he is a narcissistic cheating ass. I think by definition that’s what makes him a narcissist. I promise he isn’t spending time worrying about the past. So why am I?

Maybe instead of looking for the answer- maybe we should just bury that shit and move on. Call it a draw and walk away. And let me say I don’t think it will be easy. We are conditioned to worry. To take responsibility. To be understanding. To solve the problems of those around us. But really? What’s the point? I’m tired of other people’s crap. And if I bury it-maybe I can grow some lovely roses. Shit does make the best fertilizer.

So grab your cutest heels and a shovel!

Do you smell something? Sniff sniff? I hope I don’t have something on my shoe..šŸ’©šŸ‘ 

So who says bitter is bad?

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I think I might be bitter.

I mean not overtly bitter..people at work aren’t afraid to make eye contact or anything. Yet. But I have an edge. I admit it. I think it’s a common side effect of divorce. I know you are surprised. But you know what? I’M BITTER AND PROUD OF IT! I’ve earned it. It represents hard learned lessons of life..loss of naivety. It represents survival. Street smarts. Honesty. It says yes- yes I was rejected by my own husband and lived to tell about it. Yes I take out my own trash because I no longer have a man at my house to do it. Its a dose of reality. Like Monday mornings or a flat tire. Or a flat tire on a Monday morning. It’s my own little protective suit…like Iron Man. But it’s not Iron Man…it’s just me.

And why is a little bitterness a bad thing? Does it have to have such a negative connotation? It seems unfair.. The expectation put on us by society to forgive and forget is a bit much in my opinion. Like we are all supposed to be walking around exuding inner peace. Not everyone deserves to be forgiven. And I would be pretty stupid if I forgot. I actually googled this question. Why is bitterness bad? Google doesn’t seem to see a lot of good in bitterness (unless we are talking about bitter food..they apparently are all kinds of good for you. Remind me to pick up some bitter melon..yes that really exists). I mean Google just wanted to talk about how ‘Keep Calm and Bitter On’ may not be my best idea for a catch phrase. She was a complete buzzkill. But I think she is wrong.

I don’t think Google has been divorced…

Just keep swimming..

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The divorce is over..so don’t look back! Just keep swimming. Put one foot in front of other. Focus on the future. Anyone and everyone will jump at the chance to tell you to just move on already. Like somehow I haven’t heard these little tidbits of wisdom before. Enlighten my please Yoda..

I’ve heard the message ok? I get it. But enough already. It’s not that easy! Not every day. It was 15 years and 3 kids. The biggest milestones of my life were in there. Some days I am running full speed ahead- embracing my future with determination and stylish footwear. Sometimes-not so much. I can’t take that kind of pressure.

The days (and sleepless nights) of remembering..of rehashing..do come less often than they used to. But they are still part of my life. And I’m tired of feeling bad about it. I mean who is this super woman who has found inner peace and happiness by never looking back? I don’t think I would like her. She doesn’t sound like my type.. And I think the people passing out these inspiring bits of wisdom might be full of shit. I think they look back too. I think it’s human nature! I assume we have memories for a reason..right?

In one of the Harry Potter movies (don’t ask me which one..) there was a scene where Dumbledore removed a memory from his head with is wand. He was going to share it with Harry. It showed up as a bright light floating there in the air. I was mesmerized. It actually brought tears to my eyes. It was magic! God what I wouldn’t do for that some days (or more likely..some nights..around 4am). It’s not just the memory itself- but the feelings that go with it. The pain and anger..the embarrassment. The loss. I’d love to never revisit those again.

But that’s also where it gets complicated. What if I did magically ‘erase’ all of the bad? Would that be good? I’m not sure anymore. It’s all pretty confusing. I feel like my past is a Rubik’s Cube. If I could just solve it I will miraculously move forward with ease!

I think I just depressed myself with that analogy..since I have never even come close to solving a Rubik’s cube.

I think I’m screwed.

Who the Hell are you?

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Who am I?

What am I supposed to be when that’s all I wanted to be… Wife. Mother. Stay-at-home mom. PTO president. Church volunteer. Wife. My family was my life. I had great pride in all of those things. I thought I had it all figured out.

Trying to reinvent yourself in your late 30’s. Against your will. What great fun! Said no one ever. I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know.. I hadn’t even considered it. I really thought my X and I would grow old together. That someday our kids would be able to visit at Christmas with their own families and sleep in their old rooms. I would always be part of that. Part of him. We would weather through our tough times. I was naive. I held on to my marriage with all my might. It was who I was. It was my life.

But that didn’t work out. Request denied. Door slammed. Move along lady.. So now what? That’s the million dollar question. The last few years have been the hardest of my life. My divorce was pretty much a shit show. I had my pretty little picture ripped in two. There has been a lot of sadness. And anger. And let’s not forget the fear and anxiety. They are always close by. But I have strapped on my high heels and kept moving forward. šŸ‘ And with that I have began to redefine myself. And it has been at times liberating. I am no longer judging myself through the eyes of my X. I’m so much more than that.

I’m still a mother- just a single working one. And a woman. Just a single dating one. I’m a Nurse. A professional. A writer? A friend. A daughter and sister. I’m smart. And god dam I AM tough. Even when I didn’t believe it. I look in the mirror today and see a whole new person. Maybe..just maybe..who I am is more. I’m not sure yet. But I have hope in the maybe.

I’m not the same person that I used to be. But my divorce isn’t going to be my end all-be all. No! Almost every single aspect of my life has changed. Constantly evolving in my quest to figure this shit out! I will not give my X the satisfaction of breaking me. I will not continue to see myself through his eyes. Fuck that. Fuck him. He was wrong..

But I do know one thing for sure. I’m not a wife.

I’m divorced.

And I have the shoes to prove it…