Tag: self esteem

I didn’t meet their expectations…

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I was having a conversation with a new friend recently. Not face to face of course. It is 2016. But we were having a conversation no less… Through Facebook Messenger. The most non-threatening way to contact someone new. Especially for the over 40 crowd.

“You seem very well grounded and to be honest I didn’t expect that.” He wrote. “It is nice getting to know you.”

I have to be honest too. It’s not the first time I have heard this. I’m sure it won’t be the last. And I never know for sure how I should take it. How should one respond to such statements? What exactly does he mean anyway? Am I nicer? Smarter? Less bitchy? Taller? Am I better at inserting the best emoticon in ‘just’ the perfect place than the average girl? What is it?! Time after time people have told me that I am friendlier than they thought. How surprised they are by my sense of humor. That they are impressed at how hard  I work. I’m more ‘down to earth’ than they expected. But for whatever reason- I didn’t meet their expectations…

“That seems to be the number one thing people say about me.” I respond with a lol. “That I’m not what they expected…” It’s better to laugh than cry.

My whole life has been about meeting peoples ‘expectations.’ Just like everyone else I guess. And for someone like me who started life as a natural people ‘pleaser’…trying to meet others expectations can be rough. And right along with those expectations are the perceptions.

My family has money. Or at least that’s the perception. My X has money. And that’s the truth. So in the mind of many of the people I meet in my small town,  my co-workers, and even some of my friends… I’m one of those kind of women. And apparently,  people have low expectation of those kind of women. Sure, she’s a single working mother with three children-but she comes from ‘money’-so she has it made. At least that’s the perception. The expectation.

But my conversation goes on to get even better…

“I always perceived you as a frumpy pampered housewife. Mostly by hearsay…”He continues. (And I’m paraphrasing here.) “But the  look and attitude I have seen lately has been a pleasant surprise. My old perception of you has changed quite a bit…”

Wow. That was honest. And guess what? I’m not even mad about it. There is a truth to his statements. The only exception I would take is the ‘pampered’ part. Or maybe I should say- qualification. My X never pampered me. I wasn’t ever deserving of it in his eyes. But my family…that’s a different story. Since my divorce they have pampered my quite a bit.

As a woman I have changed a lot since my divorce. Thank God! Since I discover those first pair of heels and left behind that frumpy housewife I have done nothing but grow stronger. Work harder. Smile more. I have made it my mission to hold my head high and move forward with a purpose. I will never be able to shed completely peoples ‘ideas’ about who I am-or where I came from. But I have learned that by exceeding those ‘expectations’ on a day to day basis- I have become a more confident woman. A happier woman. I am twice the woman I even imagined I could be when I was twenty. Literally…

I am grateful for the freedom that my divorce has brought to me. And that is not a statement that I make lightly. It wasn’t something that I expected for myself. The relief that it would bring…  I am grateful that I am no longer married to someone who didn’t like me-let alone love me. I have found the opportunity to find myself. With the help of my family and friends (of course)…

So to my new friend. I am so glad that I am not what you expected. That I didn’t meet your expectations. I’m so fucking glad. I take great pride in it.

I am so much more than what you expect.👠

 

 

 

 

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…👠

 

 

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…👠

Perk! Perk! PERK!!

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Is this a perk? Hmmmmm….

I want to be clear about something. As a general rule I am against divorce. I am for sure not going to be the person at the party (if I ever went to a party..) saying “Yeah..it all turned out to be for the best. It was worth it. Thank God my marriage failed.” Not going to happen. Maybe someday I will feel better about it. I don’t know. I’m a work in progress. But that’s not how I feel about it right now. Not even close…

However..it does turn out that after awhile..you might start to notice some perks. They pop up here and there. Unexpectedly. Like a little Surprise Party for one! Some are pretty obvious. Like not waking up every morning next to someone who is obviously disappointed to be waking up with you. Living with someone who is constantly unhappy is exhausting. Draining. Depressing. My X was like a broken record playing sad songs all day. Enough already! It was part of the background music of my married life. His constant criticism chipped away slowly and steadily at my self esteem. What a relief when it was gone. Perk.

Sex. If and when I have it now.. It’s fun. None of the baggage from a bad marriage to ‘screw’ it up. (Pun intended). For me it’s better than married sex. It’s sex where everyone is required to bring their A game! And that is a definite perk.

No snoring. My X could have competed in the Olympics if snoring was an event. He specialized in the ‘I’m drunk again but refuse to admit it’ snore. And he had the nerve to be an asshole about it. How dare I ask him to turn over..he has to work tomorrow! Sigh. Now…silence. Perk.

No justifying what I bought at the grocery store. My X would look over the grocery store receipts like a high school English teacher grading a term paper. He made notes and circled things. He frowned. He treated me like a child. Seriously.. I’m not making this up. Now I can go crazy and buy 4 cans of peas and no one questions my decision making skills. No one cares! Perk.

I am in charge of my TV remote. I don’t have to share a bathroom. I have a turtle. Perk. Perk. Perk. No battles over who will discipline the kids. No mother-in-law. MAJOR PERK! No dealing with a sick man in my house. (I’m sure we are all familiar with the man cold..) No battles over what color to paint the living room. No judgement over days spent at home in my pajamas. No fights over that silly stuff that every married couple fights about..but no one even can remember why the  next day. No disappointment over the cruel realization that your husband doesn’t want to spend his Saturday with you. Again. The constant unfulfilled expectation is gone…You are alone and you know it. Perk.

The only way to survive divorce is to accept change. And part of that change is finding happiness in your current circumstances. Thankfully I am finding that divorce does come with a few perks.

Thank God. I’m divorced…I deserve a few perks.