This is how I resolved all conflict with my ex husband:
Yep, no Ex, no problems. I would not, however, advise this approach for the casual dating relationship. Disposing of the remains can be tricky and awkward. But when used on a very infrequent basis this problem solving approach can supply one with enough stew meat to last for months and you’ll never want for authentic looking Halloween decor.
Things look better today. Nothing’s changed, really. Maybe the 1 Riesling Day Monday helped me just off gas all the emotional discouragement or stress stirring around in there. Maybe it is Suzie Orman’s book, “2009 Action Plan” that did it.
I picked this book up just after the New Year. It was on the shelf at WalMart just yelling at me to buy it when I walked by to get a prescription filled. I succumbed to the temptation and I’m glad I did. She does not paint a rosy picture of where things will go economically in 2009. Her opinion is that everyone’s job is in danger, the housing market is likely going to plummet further before stabilizing, the credit crunch is disastrous and going to become more so and investments have lost value and may continue to do so. It was dismal news to read in a way.
In another way it was great news for me. She really laid out the sad state of our economy with the foreclosures, repossessions of vehicles in the auto industry and the credit crunch. I’m not highly informed about any of this but I found out that according to Suzie, I am doing the right stuff. I have miraculously (certainly not by my own brilliance in these matters) done the right things and avoided many of the pitfalls I could have been trapped in. I’m not out of the woods, but I am not in foreclosure, not in danger of my vehicle being repossessed and I have no reason to have to sell my home, as long as I continue to make the payments, which I am doing with greater and greater ease each month as I continue to live like a Spartan and pay off bills. Even though my home is valued below what I owe on it, and that difference is expected to increase, according to Orman, somewhat during 2009, I am not in a rental and at the risk of the landlord not being able to make their payments on the house and then evicting me with only 30 days notice. That would be disastrous! With four kids, finding a new place would be difficult at best. The potential for me to get back into anything livable would be slim or none and I could run the risk of having the same thing happen again.
So, while I gripe and moan at times about the fact that I have a 30-year-old fixer, and I do mean fixer, and the fact that sometimes the routine repairs baffle me, I always come back to the place that I am grateful for this home and this roof over our heads. If and when I am able to move into something nicer, I admit I’ll probably experience some bittersweet emotion at the prospect. I am even more grateful than ever that I am in this house and able to make my payments on time. There are many, many people in much, much worse shape than I.
I’m sure that the realization that things are dire for many out there and I’m, so far, not in that place or headed there helped improve my perspective a bit. I also think it may have been the fact that I simply got a good night’s sleep last night. Funny how fatigue can warp our perspective. Or, maybe, it was the fact that I’ve been eating healthier since the New Year and my body and mind are responding to the better fuel. Whatever it is, things looked better yesterday morning than they did the day before and they look really great today. It is Wednesday and I’m on the downward slope of the week. Two more days and it will be the weekend and, not just any weekend, a three day weekend.
Things look a lot better today!
Life sucks. Have you noticed that? I mean, okay, it doesn’t always suck, but a lot of it really sucks. The older I get the more I notice that more of life simply sucks. Just watch the news. Most of it is bad, even deplorable. Think of this. You are beatuiful and energetic when you are young but but you are also hopelessly stupid, naive and inexperienced or else you are so jaded and calloused as to be well, no fun. Then, just when you have life sort of figured out, or more figured out than you ever have, you die. So life sucks.
There is this one aspect of life sucking that I was thinking about today. Life sucks because it is filled with change and often this change is accompanied by loss and grief. Every little change has encapsulated in it some sort of loss. Even if the change is good and positive, there is some loss of the old way, the way things were, the way things have been until this specific change however grand or minute it might be occurs. Even if it means one must part ways with some preferred way of thinking about things, the change can be dramatic and can range from being merely uncomfortable to completely life altering. Today, I experienced one such change which inconsequential as it might seem on the surface refracted shades of larger changes and the dynamic of emotion contained within those changes. Change and transition which happen to us on a small scale each and every day and on a much larger scale, once or twice in a lifetime, can be pivotal points in our lives.
Today, I had to go to my eye doctor and have my eyes checked. Now, my eyes are fine, but I’ve had glasses since I was 17 years old and probably should have had them earlier, based on the number of car accidents I was in before I got corrective lenses. Maybe I’m just a crappy driver, but since the carnage inflicted on the auto industry diminished greatly after I started wearing glasses and my driving did not, I’m thinking I probably needed them long before I was 17. Anyway, since then, about every year or so I have to go to the eye doc to get the peepers examined. Today, was the day for that exam this year.
But the sucky part was that it wasn’t my usual eye doctor anymore. I’ve been going to the same eye doctor for about 15 years now. He’s a great little Greek guy who’s been practicing in my area forever. Certainly, long before my first husband and I moved here in ’93. He’s funny, personable and competent. He also houses his practice in this old two story craftsman style home that has been turned into office space. The place is warm, inviting and quiet when you walk in. Though there are other customers in the place, you don’t know it. There is this feel that you are the only person there and the only one that matters. There are also pictures of Greece taken when my doctor would travel back each year to visit his family. The white of the buildings and the blue of the ocean mesmerized me. I always liked going early and sitting in the lobby and thinking what it would be like to be in that place, Greece. Would the sun be warmer, would I be tanner, thinner? Yes, I was most certain I would be warmer,tanner and thinner if I were there. I really liked those pictures.
My eye doctor is retiring. He will not be practicing anymore after tomorrow. I tried to get in to see him one last time and was unable to. Instead, I had to book an appointment with the new offices that my doctor sold his practice to. This is what sucks. No more warm, cozy, two-story craftsman style home office building with mesmerizing pictures of Greece. I now must drive to the other end of town to go get my eyes checked at a trendy, upscale Eye Center. Ugh. Flourescent lights, office carpeting, a big, huge waiting area that rivaled the Department of Motor Vehicles and pictures depicting the cross section of the eye instead of the coast of Greece. Like I said, life sucks.
So, after filling out my customary mountain of insurance paperwork, which I guarantee is going to create more work for me in clarifying the transitional screwups that always happen when you change service providers, I sat and looked around. I thought about this sucky part of life. My eye doctor was really awesome. I didn’t want a change here. I wanted things to continue just as they always had. I did not want my doctor to retire. I mean, what’s he going to do to keep busy anyway? Go to Greece and take more pictures? Well, he can’t hang them in his office anymore, so what good is that?! In addition, I began to ponder how weird it is to get to know new people in settings like these where everyone is a stranger, in spite of the fact that I’ve lived in this community for 15 years. I looked around and I realized I knew no one. The folks in the other office all knew me by name and greeted me by name. They didn’t need to ask who I was, they just pulled my file when they saw me check in. They knew me. These people didn’t know who I was from Adam. Well, I’m sure they probably figured out I wasn’t Adam, or John or Harold either, but they didn’t know me, not really.
I also didn’t know how this system worked. I mean, go here, fill out this paperwork, return it or don’t, or should I eat it after reading? I had no idea. Whatever, I filled out the paperwork. I had a momentary urge to put some really hysterical off the wall stuff on the form when they asked about family history, alcohol consumption or smoking habits and what sex I was, but I decided to simply stay with the boring straight answers this time. As if the paperwork wasn’t enough of a puzzle, just trying to figure out the layout of the place was a challenge. I wondered if I were to start at the check in desk and someone were to shout go, how long it would take me to dodge down the first hallway and go through the whole place till I found my way back to the starting point. It was a good thing that the assistant came and rescued me from my reverie at this point.
She led me back to the interior of the building, past a little additional waiting room and millions of little examination rooms. This was not feeling comfortable at all. Too sterile, too professional, too impersonal. I was feeling kind of sad by this time. I know my doctor wants to retire, but why did this change have to feel like losing my home on some levels? It reminded me that this town is growing so quickly and there is less and less personal interaction anymore. I do not like this part of life. The part where the people you love and care about leave and move on or, worse, die, really sucks. Sometimes when someone I love leaves my life the pain is so real I feel it on a physical level, right in my chest. It physically hurts. Now, okay, I wasn’t this torn up about the retiring eye doctor, but it did feel like that when my marriages were disintegrating or my parents died.
So, with all this deep, philosophical introspection and musing going on I followed the pretty young lady assistant with a diamond stud in her nose back to the examination room. I put my purse in the place she motioned to and sat in the big blue…or was it red…chair with the eye apparatus near it. As she takes my chart and pulls up my information on the computer screen, we talk and I size up the place. Okay, so far so good, no weird stuff here. I figured out quickly why they hired her though, she could input that data fast! She was also personable and friendly and pretty. Now, in spite of my fairly melancholy and somewhat negative musings, I’m a bit of an adventurer and though I regretted being forced into this particular change in this particular area of my healthcare at this particular juncture of my life, I’m usually up for a bit of adventure and I do like meeting new people and going new places. There’s something about new and different that is good every now and then to change things up a bit. So, before I knew it we were chatting away and she had figured out what my prescription should be and she had me fitted for new contacts. Well, it wasn’t exactly that instantaneous. I was there for three house, but it really didn’t seem that long even though I had to go to the little waiting room, get put in front of the refraction machine and then go back to the little waiting room then back to the original room and all that before I even met my new Eye Doctor. But the assistant and I had a great time. We determined that the monovision correction I’d been using for the last two years, which required I carry a pair of granny glasses around on a chain around my neck in case I should ever need to read a book or a menu while I had my contacts in, was not the most effective method of correcting my distance vision. Duh!!! Instead, she suggested I try this kind of contact lense with multifocal correction in it. It essentially operates like the old bifocal but corrects for distance, mid-distance and near. I looked at her stunned. “This is possible?” I asked. She nodded. I asked about pricing, and it was only slightly more than the contacts I’d been using. I mean, the idea of not having to have a pair of reader glasses in my purse, at my bedside table, at every location in my classroom and in my home where I might need to read something up close will not only save me the extra amount these contacts cost, but just the freedom of not having to pack around granny glasses on a chain around my neck floored me. I was ecstatic. By this time I was beginning to really be glad my eye doc was choosing to retire.
Then they dilated my eyes and I met my new Eye Doctor. She was personable, professional and competent. She looked nice but I had a hard time seeing her since my eyes were dilated and I thought she was kind of cruel to blast my eyes with that bright light thing but other than that she was alright. I mean, I wondered what I was expecting, that she’d be some kind of monster? She wasn’t. I would have much preferred that she be male, attractive, and single and really into me but, hey, I can’t have it all my way can I?
Well, I left the doctor’s office today with my eyes so dilated they hurt. I stumbled, sort of, out to my car and put on my sunglasses and sat and thought for a moment. What things we can learn from the most benign events in our lives if only we pay attention and observe. Four hours ago I was bemoaning the sad but normal changes we all experience in life. Four hours later and I can see perfectly, both distance and close up and I’m not having to reach for my granny reader glasses. Life is funny. It’s downright strange and bizarre. Life does suck. There are parts of it that are so painfully sad that I’d almost rather not live it. (Okay, I’m not suicidal, please, even though when given the option I will usually choose to avoid the pain rather than face it head on…I hate pain so much I could never do myself in…it would simply hurt too much, besides, it’s a fairly permanent solution to what, I’ve found, are mostly temporaray problems.) I hate goodbyes. Having my eye doctor retire, not being able to go to his office in that nice craftsman style home with the pictures of Greece on the walls and where everyone knew me by name felt a bit like what I’d imagine being shoved out of my home as a kid before I was quite ready to go would feel like. It sucked.
But there’s an up side. The up side is this: I now can see clearly and I don’t have to use Granny glasses and I’m not in pain. I’m so going to love that! I mean just the thought of it, let alone the reality of it, is enough to make me feel twenty years younger. In addition, I’m not fumbling around half the time trying to adjust from one visual task to another. And I don’t have a headache. This is the best part of it. I am not experiencing pain like I was before.
Now, silly as it seems, this little routine somewhat undramatic (or maybe a bit overdramatized) change in vision doctors revealed a timely lesson for me. Sometimes the pain, loss and corresponding grief we go through in life are necessary for our greater growth, development, ultimate maturity and improved vision. (If I were writing to a strictly religious Christian audience this is where I’d insert any number of Bible references and there are many which would apply. Those folks will know what they are so I’ll skip that part for now and let them provide them if they are so motivated.) Any one of the maybe eight or ten people following my blog regularly will note that I’ve bemoaned my dating fate of late with folks going silent and perfectly good candidates opting out. True, I haven’t shared the number of times I’ve opted out first, but, be that as it may, the dating life has been sucky and painful just as the eye doctor thing was painful and sucky…at first. But here’s the thing that crystallized for me today. The pain I experience or the sadness or, better, the disappointment I experience, only serves to help me clarify for myself what it is that I’m about in this journey we call life. People opting out, aren’t necessarily a rejection of me, though it does feel that way for a few minutes. It’s life. My eye doctor didn’t retire because he didn’t want to provide services to me anymore. How ludicrous is that thinking? Yet that is exactly the logic behind the woe is me mentality that bends us up into knots when something we thought could really be great or was really great doesn’t work out. Whether it is a dating relationship, a marriage, a career or a healthcare provider, all these things are just other people making choices that impact us. Our value is not determined by their choices. It is painful to lose something that was wonderful, fulfilling, warm, cozy, beneficial and positive. It is painful to lose the familiarity of someone knowing my name and having a cute, cozy office with Greek pictures on the wall. It was wonderful pondering the possibilities that might have transpired had any number of those wonderful men not gone silent. But it was simply not to be and because of it my vision is improved. My vision is improved because I now see more clearly what I’m about in relationship and I see much more accurately the great qualities that I do hope Mr. Right, if he appears, will possess. I also see much more clearly and with less pain and effort physically because I was able to change doctors and benefit from improved technology and service.
I think there are greater lessons to be extrapolated here. Simply put, sometimes we have to wade through some misery to figure out what doesn’t work so that when we come face to face with what does work, we recognize it. One of my Christian friends was talking to me the other day and he said, “Check it out. God gave Adam the task of naming all the animals before He brought Eve into the picture. After looking all the animals over, Adam probably had a really good idea that none of those were a good fit for him and he was better able to recognize/appreciate Eve’s beauty and fit for him because of the process God took him through”. Now, I know, sounds a bit churchy, at points, but the idea still holds. If we pay attention, we learn. We learn what works and what doesn’t. We learn how to be better people. We learn to recognize those things and people that are healthy and positive for us and those who are dangerous and toxic and we are able to make this determination with increasing effectiveness, accuracy and efficiency…but we must experience some pain in order to get there.
That’s the part about life that sucks the most: going through the pain to learn how to avoid it, but, to be honest, I wouldn’t trade it for anything, because, guess what, now I can see!!!! In so many ways beyond just my physical vision, I can see! I love the freedom, the confidence and the convenience that this improved vision brings. For example, I’ve been at the computer for hours now and no headaches and I can see perfectly, without taking out my contacts or using Granny glasses. It is worth enduring the suckiness to benefit from the lessons. Of course, I’d never say that while the lesson is being taught. I, like many others, will drown in the misery, but, unlike many others, I’ll be watching, listening, thinking and learning all the while. I’ll be glad when I’ve finally aced the test. So, while life sucks, I guess it isn’t completely for naught. I’ll take the suckiness to gain the vision.
I’m still going to miss those pictures of Greece though.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the romantic notion that there is “someone for everyone”. I’ve also been thinking about the notion I’ve had from my youth that I really don’t need to spend my time looking for Mr. Right. I should just go about my life and he (if he indeed exists) will somehow magically surface. Well, that is a very oversimplified way of stating the idea that if there is someone out there for me, I do not need to spend any energy looking for him, he will come to me. Instead, I should be spending my energy being the best me I can be, pursuing my own interests, being authentically me and Prince Charming will see me from afar or from one of those areas of interest I’m pursuing and come riding in on his mighty steed (or his whatever fuel efficient economy car) to woo me and carry me away to happily-ever-after land.
Now, 30 years later and I’m thinking that these ideas need revision. First, we don’t know for sure that there is “someone for everyone”. How would we prove this…if such an idea were provable? If two people were born on opposite ends of the earth and were “meant” for each other how would anyone, including the two in question know? How would we know if Person A were meant for Person B? What would happen if Person A died before they could meet? Would Person C then become the perfect match for Person B or is Person B flat out of luck? No, we cannot determine for sure that there is indeed someone for everyone. In fact, if we just look at the birth statistics in any given year or series of years we find that one or the other of the sexes born in a given year, outweighs the other. In romance, there is simply not a clean scientific one-to-one correspondence.
The idea that if I just go about doing my life, Mr. Prince will appear, is also a theory that needs revision. Why? Because, it made sense when I was young, beautiful, childless, and had my entire life ahead of me and the possibilities for how I could spend my time as well as who I could spend my time with were virtually unlimited. Such is not the case in post-40 single-mom-of-four-kids world. The possibilities for how I can spend my time are now relegated to working to keep a roof over our heads, parenting the said four children, eating, sleeping, grocery shopping, housecleaning, laundry, yard work, and paying bills. There isn’t much time left over, except for every other weekend and about five weeks the rest of the year that I can just do whatever I want. In addition, the possibilities concerning who I spend my time with, have significantly diminished since those carefree college days where the men-to-women ratio was 7 men to every 1 woman. Add that reality to the fact that I now know myself better and have been shaped by all the experiences in the last 46 years. I’m now far more scrutinizing and, yes, picky, about who I spend my time with, let alone, who I might consider becoming romantically involved with. To further complicate the situation, I have my children to consider. My children have already experienced the worst of the blended family scenario and it was so abusive and bad that we had to get out. It failed. We aren’t ready to repeat that experience any time ever. The nuances and intricacies of any relationship that would work for me and mine, are complicated indeed. The old romantic notions just don’t fit or work anymore.
Yes, these romantic notions need to be completely revised, or maybe rewritten altogether. Hmmm, possibly, even discarded outright. I think it is possible to make an intelligent, considered and deliberate decision regarding who I become romantically involved with. However, I also know that it is completely in the realm of possibility for me to overanalyze things and thus completely miss a good thing were it to come my way. I’m actually more concerned that this second option would happen. I fear I will find so many reasons not to invest, instead of seeing that the person in front of me fits me like hand and glove. It might feel right but I’ll pick it to death on the intellectual end and walk away.
It is along these lines that I’ve been also thinking more about God.
I have always been part of the Christian religion. However, I have not always been a Christian and most of the time I have been a Christian, I have not been very spiritual. In fact, I’ve struggled to be a “good Christian”. I’ve struggled so much, I finally decided to give it up. But that’s another story altogether. I am not a religious person. I do nothing out of “religion”, however, spiritually, I ascribe to the Christian principals as communicated in the Bible. I disagree most of the time with what the established Christian church (regardless of denomination) does, simply because I feel that the church today has fallen into the same trap the religious leaders in Jesus’ day fell into: they are all about building their own little power kingdoms and not at all about true communion with God. I’ll be the first to say that my problems and failures in my own spiritual journey cannot be blamed on the effectiveness or inadequacy of any human religious institution, however, I can say that more often than not, the “church” has done more to isolate me from God than to draw me near to Him. This should not be. So…after a great many years of involvement, over-involvement to the point of collapse almost, I spun wildly out of control spiritually, made some very foolish mistakes and landed myself on a very long sabbatical from “the ministry”. My head was messed up, my heart was broken and my spirituality was at an all time low. That was the state of affairs for me as I entered my second marriage, which failed, for a number of reasons, none of which, added to my spiritual health.
So, I took a break from all things religious.
For a long time. For about two years now, maybe almost three.
And…surprisingly…now that the human voices of guilt, condemnation and disapproval have faded to silence, I think, I actually think I can hear God’s voice.
Okay, now, this is not the venue to discuss the validity or otherwise of the existence of God. That’s not my purpose here. Long ago, I mucked through all that for myself. I was not brought up in a religious home though I did get some church in my younger years. If anything, my parents were staunchly agnostic almost moving toward atheistic. They hated religion and were very intellectual. I’m sure I’m an embarrassment to them. I know what that world view holds. I know. I grew up in it and was immersed in it just as fundamentalist right wing religious zealots immerse their children in their world view. I didn’t rebel. I just watched and looked and considered. But this is not the venue to go into that particular journey either. Suffice it to say that it seemed more conceivable to me that this intricate and finely tuned universe we live in was carefully and thoughtfully designed rather than originating by random chance and thus, I took a step and opted in favor of a loving, creator God who desired relationship with me as opposed to the futile thinking that we are here by chance and we die and become food for worms (which we do but that’s only because we no longer have need of our physical houses). I made this decision at the ripe old age of 18. I haven’t been much of a “super Christian”, but I haven’t regretted the choice either. I believe there is a loving God, who desires intimate connection with humanity and not just humanity, but each one of us as individuals. He wants to orchestrate wonderful things for us that we cannot imagine, but He has by His own design limited himself in some ways. He will not force Himself on us.
So it is into this context that over the last two years and more specifically over the last six to eight months that spirituality and my dating life have converged. The questions I have about having never really been in love, wondering if there is indeed someone “out there” for me even at this “final hour”, how do I go about meeting him and what part God would play in all this ultimately boil down to trust. The issue, really, for me, is trust. If I believe there is a personal God out there who loves me and cares about me as an individual and not just as part of a collective whole why am I not willing to trust Him with my love life?
Would he care about my love life?
I think so. Great theological question. Also a lengthy topic for another blog, but yes, I think God cares about this element of our humanity. God says it is not good for us to be alone. He’s a God of community and commitment, so, yes, I think He’d care about my love life. And, I know I have issues of trust originating from way back when and continuing on to the present day. It is hard for me to totally trust that someone truly cares about me without having an agenda. So, of course, I shift that over to my dealings with God. Trusting God has been tough for me. Not trusting God has landed me in a heap o’ trouble that I think I could well have avoided, but I don’t know for sure since I haven’t ever really trusted God and observed the results.
So, the other day, somewhere out of nowhere, that still, small voice whispered to me as I was frantically going about my daily business. It was such a different thought that it stopped me cold, “So, after two failed marriages, an active dating life with no interesting possibilities for a relationship that looks like it might go the distance, a bunch of people wasting your time then going silent, don’t you think you might try trusting me with your love life?”
The question stopped me in my tracks.
Trust God with my love life? I almost laughed.
It would be much more dramatic if I could say that I thought that was absurd. I did not. I did not think anything of it. I just thought about the concept. Trust God with my love life?
Then I thought, “Wait. If God is who He says and who I say I believe He is then He most definitely cares about my love life. There are plenty of examples in the Bible where God orchestrated romance on behalf of the individuals involved and He had nothing or very little to work with and He had human beings screwing it up all along the way. Hmmm,” I continued in my thoughtful reverie, “If I believe what I say I believe about God then I must put Him to the trust test. I must trust Him with my love life or my spirituality is not worth the energy it takes to explain it.
So, my response to God?
Just this, “Okay, God, I’m going to trust you with my love life because if I can’t trust you with that then I can’t trust you with anything, but please don’t let that mean that my only options are those emasculated mamby pamby fundamentalist nuts whose Christianity keeps them from speaking English and whose chief desire is finding a woman to wait on them, because after all ‘by God, they are the man of the household’. God, just give me a man who is into you, not hung up on Christian image and who is 100% male and masculine and still respectful, kind, and not afraid to show he cares. And, oh, yeah, God, if it isn’t too much to ask, make him one of those guys who can do more than just show up. I’d like to be able to talk to him and, better yet, have him carry enough of the conversation that I get a chance to listen to him and that I can admire what he has to say for a lifetime, or the rest of our lifetime together. And then, God, I really simply just want that one companion that fits, like hand and glove in so many millions of different and impossible ways, and, please God, let me recognize him when you put him there in front of me….but I guess you already know all that about me. Okay, God, have fun with that, it won’t be easy.”
And that’s how God got involved with my love life.
“Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.”
~~ Sir Winston Churchill
There you have it! If you can keep this perspective you can actually enjoy dating in 40+ World.
Look. I’m probably going to get myself in trouble with the bigs for saying this, but the truth is I’d like to go postal. I can’t though. I mean, I try, but I just can’t.
I just can’t post anything these days. At least, not much that I’m pleased with. And forget posting anything quality during the week. (Okay, no potshots about the quality the rest of the time, wise guys!)
I have about six posts started. None completed. Just when I get to the place where I really need to concentrate either because I’m reworking a part or trying to figure out which direction I’d like the piece to head, someone or something interrupts me. Today, it was my 15-year-old telling me at the last minute that she needed cupcakes for a class party tomorrow. Of course, she waits till I’ve taken off my shoes and socks, changed into my cozy jammies and am nearly two steps from curling up in my oversized and very cozy king sized bed befre she ever so sweetly says, “Hey, Mom….”. You know the rest of the story.
My head started spinning around with green stuff flying everywhere.
Okay, according to her, I did go postal so, also according to her, my first statement was a misrepresentation.
Well, it was nothing compared to how I felt after I got dressed again, went down to the store with her, picked up the three dozen cupcakes (after going two different places to find them), drove all the way home and then realized we’d left them at the checkout counter.
Wow. Someone around here needs to go to bed earlier.
It sucks to be single in Over 40 Land. Here’s why:
I don’t know how to change the light fixtures.
I can’t get the rest of the leaves blown and bagged and I’d rather be blowing and bagging other things and I can’t do that either. (Gads did I actually just write that?)
I had to hang my outside Christmas lights all by myself. I’d like to have somebody else hanging my lights and turning them on! (Did I just write that too?)
I have to keep the fire burning…alone…oh wait, I already did that before anyway. And, wait, what fire are we talking about because there’s one fire that’s completely non-existent these days.
I have to clean out the fireplace…alone…oh wait, I already did that myself before too.
I have no one to fight with over the covers at night.
I have no one to keep me warm at night except my kids and they kick me and flail.
I have no one to criticize the way I decorated the tree.
I have to attend all the kids’ events alone and act like I’m okay with it. I was okay with it…at first…I am now getting sick of it.
I hate going to Christmas parties by myself. Hmmm, maybe I should hire an escort…like that’s EVER going to happen! I can’t even hire a housekeeper anymore or lawn maintenance. Gasp!
I really don’t like sitting in my hot tub alone, although, I do it on occasion.
I have no one to call bullsh*t on me when I’m completely out to lunch. Well, okay, my kids do this occasionally, but c’mon, they’re my kids.
I don’t have anyone who will show me how to use the chainsaw, pour cement for the front walks and help me rebuild the destroyed inground sprinkler system. (How it got destroyed is topic of another blog many years from now.) Looks like I’ll be Googling how to pour a cement walkway and doing it myself. I do everything myself.
I have no one to go grocery shopping with who will pack out the huge dog food bag so I either do it myself or call for help. I hate that. I’m convinced Mr. Right will not appear while I’m wandering the aisles at the local grocery store. Even if he did, what’s he going to do, chase me down, get my license plate number and then call me? Get real!
I have no one to check that dark stain on the driveway under my car and tell me something is up AGAIN with my car. And, of course, I have no one to fix it.
I have no one to sit nicely and encouragingly through my attempts at cooking while I try to get better. My kids DO NOT help with that. When they are gone, well, it’s just no fun cooking a meal for one. However, it can sometimes be fun drinking a bottle of wine for two all by yourself. A small bottle…
I have no one to dream with.
I have no one to play with…and…you know what I mean…
It’s just me these days. And, sometimes, quite frankly, it just sucks.
Not always though. Next post might be about all the things I really like about being alone.
There it is again. That sinking feeling that he isn’t going to call. He is just going to “go silent”. Not a good-bye. No explanation, if one could even be given after just four dates. Nothing. Silence. Thud.
The worst part is that I thought we were really clicking. I mean, he had to drive two hours each day to see me. And, he did it without me suggesting it. In fact, I worked hard to discourage it knowing it was quite a drive in addition to putting in a full day of work. When we were together the time seemed to just fly by and those are his words not mine. Then, the night before I had to leave town since the conference I was attending ended the next day, we said our good-byes. Okay, I’m not going into detail as to how we said them, but, suffice it to say, that there was nothing in the parting that indicated he would not be continuing to pursue knowing me as much after meeting as he had the entire six weeks before. But, I returned home and no call, unusual in itself since he was hammering me with emails and IMs before we met. I zipped him a nice friendly email, thanking him for taking time out of his schedule to spend with me, letting him know once again how much fun I had. It was short, sweet and nice, but no response. Nothing. Silence. Thud.
That sinking, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that comes from feeling fooled by my emotions or by another human being. I’ve met quite a few folks over the last year. I generally know what I want or what I’m looking for (as if dating were like going to the grocery store and I’ll just find any number of them sitting on the shelves or in a display case). I really know more of the kinds of things, perspectives, attitudes, behaviors, lifestyle choices, habits that won’t work for me in a long term relationship. I also know more of what will. This person, without a doubt, moved over into the “definitely has potential” category. I began to let my mind think, “maybe” and “I wonder” and “hmmmm, what if?” and then, he went silent.
There is that sickening, thick, heavy, flat, painful feeling that comes from not understanding what went wrong or why. No email, nothing, not a phone call even. Certainly not the instant response I’d been getting over the last six weeks that indicated he was checking emails and my blog regularly to hear from me or read the latest post. There was a text every morning before I went to work and connection, in some form, four or five times a day. It was the textbook “when a man loves a woman there is no doubt” scenario. Then he went silent.
It was a definite and noticeable change in temperature, but I saw none of it coming while I was with him. Silence. Then, a couple of days later, I get an email from him. Short, to the point, impersonal, but also nothing about the status of things between us from his perspective either. He simply said he is going out of town to visit his adult kids out of state and will be gone for four days. No further noise from him since. Silence, Thud.
Unusually silent on his part. And…for the fourth time since May…I have that sinking feeling that things will not be working out or moving forward…and I have no idea why. None. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if there was no real interest on my part, or if there hadn’t been some considerable time getting to know the person and, here’s the biggie, if I hadn’t let my heart start opening up to the possibility that this might have the potential to be something interesting. I find the entire process, exhausting and not a little painful. It is mostly annoying. On one level, if I must be honest, it just flat angers me. A six week, two month, three month relationship where the man spent all that energy and time making himself a very real and present force in my life only to go silent without a good-bye is appalling to me. It floors me. But then I am a woman, and I don’t understand how really handsome, together, intelligent men can deal straight up on a Wall Street Business deal and hide when it comes to love. Going silent is like telling me that whatever we had did not exist. It invalidates the time we spent together, and it marginalizes me. You see, when I give someone the greatest gift I can give…which is my time…the very essence my life and his is made of…it is dehumanizing when I don’t even receive the courtesy of a good-bye.
I know mentally, this is just the way it is. In each of these situations I’ve experienced this year, nothing was really invested (except my freaking heart…but no big deal there right?). All the relationships were in their infancy stages so, best to bail early rather than not bail and wait. And…in all these cases…no one was obligated either way. But that’s not the point. It still feels bad. It feels worse than rejection, even though I know mentally it isn’t at all about me, but more about decisions he’s making. I mean, when I have to make the same choice to discontinue contact with someone, it isn’t so much about that person being a failure in Dating World or Life as it is just me recognizing that I simply for whatever reason cannot move forward with this person. Since I know it, I need to act on it. I’m certain these men all felt the same way too. They saw something, felt something, knew they couldn’t go forward and had to act on it. It’s about them making right choices for them. It’s not really about me. But it still feels bad and it feels especially bad when they don’t say anything, if even by email, and, instead I am kept wondering, wondering, wondering…what happended. It is dehumanizing, demoralizing and discouraging.
In the silence, wondering what happened, experiencing that sinking feeling, until one day, several days later or maybe a week (but I’ve become good enough at recognizing the trend the minute the first text message is missed), it becomes clear that they have not contacted me, and they will not ever again contact me. Thud. They are simply just not that into me…worse…I wasn’t even important enough to earn an explanation, email or otherwise. Sigh. Sick Feeling in the stomach. Regretting what is now, all the wasted time and time is the very essence my life is made of. Moving on. Taking a deep breath and moving on.
Doesn’t anybody out here in adult dating world over 40 have a conversation any more? What is so wrong with saying kindly to someone that you don’t think you’re going to be able to continue things further and releasing them from the possibility that they spend the next day, or two or week or so of their life wondering what happened or if it even really did happen? I mean, don’t kid yourself, we’re all really good at making excuses and giving others an out. Women are especially good at making excuses for men and their poor behavior. He could be really busy, he’s catching up for time missed at work, he’s blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. And this is how days are emotionally wasted when one could be spending the time mentally, emotionally moving on. The reality is….there is something to that book, “He’s Just Not That Into You”. Men know how to use the phone, they know how to express that they care, they are not timid, they will contact a woman if they are interested enough in her. If they don’t…they aren’t. If he doesn’t where I’m concerned…he isn’t…and I simply don’t have time to waste wondering or worrying about that…and the fact that he didn’t even say good-bye says more about his character than it does about my foolishness for actually taking a risk and momentarily believing in the cad.
So I’m thinking, that in every instance, where I’ve experienced this sinking feeling, I’ve been 100% correct. I’m not going to sit around (like that was happening anyway) even one second more and wonder. As far as I’m concerned all I know is what I’m experiencing right now. What I’m experiencing right now has cast enough doubt in my mind as to make my decision clear. I don’t want to be stumbling around wondering what’s up ever again. I spent far too much of my last marriage dealing with the silent treatment, and this propensity in an individual, where I’m concerned, lands them squarely in the “won’t work for me” category.
Let the silence continue. I’ve got life to do and I’m not waiting around for the silence to end before I do it.
Today I tasked my students with attempting to begin their personal narratives in an interesting and creative way. Now, it’s my turn and I am stuck. How to begin?
It was a dark and stormy night….na…taken, overused.
On Wednesday I was talking to a friend of mine….boring.
Hmmm, it is easier said than done. It’s always easier to tell others how to do something and to give examples, but when it comes down to doing it yourself, it can be a much more challenging task.
This is how it is for me when I talk to my friends who are going through divorce. I’ve been through divorce twice myself, but I also went through a custody trial on behalf of my second ex before he was my ex. That means three times, I’ve needed to retain attorneys to resolve affairs of the heart that went bad and involved children and houses. Once I settled out of court, once I experienced a two day, very tense and humiliating trial at the end of which I had no solutions and $30,000 less to my name. The third time, the opposition never showed up so the judge ruled in my favor and my attorney still stuck me with the bills. None of these experiences was what I’d consider fun. I never want to go there again.
I hate to see my friends go through the pain, the anxiety, the fear, the tension, the complete range of unhappy emotions that come with negotiating anything in the legal realm, especially in family law. It is so agonizing to stand by and listen and watch my friends knowing that I didn’t like what they are experiencing when I went through it. It is painful to care for my friends and to see them experience such doubt, uncertainty, and angst. It is hard to not be able to help in any way other than to sit by and listen. Giving advice based on my experiences wouldn’t even be relevant because every situation is different. The stakes are always high, as are the emotions but the nuances and possible consequences of all the negotiations are never just a simple black and white.
Even so, there are some things I’ve learned that I wish I would have known before going into the process and while enduring the process. These are the things that are on my mind right now. I’m airing them as much for me to revisit and clarify what I’ve learned and where I’ve travelled and why as much as to put it out there for anyone who might benefit from it.
I am not an attorney and none of this is intended to in any way replace the counsel of a good attorney. I am not a psychologist and I cannot give that kind of advice either. All I’m really doing here is sharing what happened to me, what I wish I’d known or done differently. Maybe it will help others maybe it won’t. I’m really not all that concerned about that. I just need to sort out for myself the jumble so I can be clear about the paths I chose and where they are now leading me.
One thing I wish I would have done in every case is wait and not panic. This is not always possible. When you are in the legal battle with someone you used to be very intimate with but with whom you cannot bear to be allied for a moment longer, waiting is especially hard. Waiting is especially difficult if the person is abusive, dangerous or volatile. Until you have that signed document you are still linked to that individual to some degree. It makes waiting nearly impossible, especially when the longer you still have the married label the further and more thoroughly the other person can destroy you financially, emotionally, maybe even physically. When this is the situation, and you must wait, panic can eat you alive and prompt you to make decisions you may later regret. In my case, I made many good decisions, but there are some that I wish I’d waited on. I wish I’d asked more questions of my attorney. I wish I would have considered negotiating some other areas more thoroughly. It might not have made a difference, but then again, it might have.
I also wish I could have seen more clearly how the deal I was negotiating then would affect my future which has become my present. I think I did a very good job of this when considering the children. I think I should have thought through it all a little more on the financial end. I wish I could have seen a little more clearly then how it all would impact my future in post-divorce life. How closely will I be connected and for how long will I be linked to this individual in the years to come? How much communication will be required between the two adults in question and is the amount required even going to be possible given the nature of the relationship? As long as there are kids and money involved the chains still linking me to my past relationships are there even if they are invisible most of the time. This sometimes negatively affects my present peace of mind. Sometimes I wish I would have done this differently, though I’m not sure even now what that “differently” would be.
And this is the trouble with divorce, especially if there is a huge breakdown in communication, which it seems there usually is. Because there are so many unknowns, so many possible and probable different outcomes, trying to see how my present decisions will impact my future life was a lot like gazing into a crystal ball and seeing nothing but formless shapes and figures among the misty haze. It simply isn’t possible to anticipate the future in every instance. I think the people who are really good at computer programming could come up with a program to identify all the potential variables, courses of action and potential outcomes, but who has time or patience for that?
The best thing I did (and maybe the best any of us can do) is to listen carefully to my attorney (get a second or third opinion if we need to) and try not to let our emotions rule. The best we can do is to do the best we know how to do at the time. In the end, I just had to move forward in confidence, knowing that I couldn’t know all the possible outcomes. I had to forge ahead making decisions based only on the pieces of the puzzle that I could see and that my attorney could see. I forced myself to believe that it would all turn out okay, even when I was plagued with fears of the “what if’s”. What if I lose the house? What if I can’t make it financially? What if, what if, what if…. There were nights I tossed and turned with the angst.
As it turned out, as most things turn out I’ve learned, most of what I feared never came to pass. It ended up in some ways, in most ways, far better than I could have asked. It ended up in a few ways more difficult than I imagined. I simply did the best I knew how to do at the time. It has to be good enough. This is the biggest lesson I take with me as I move forward into each day: I will be okay if I just do the best I can at the time. When I get down and discouraged and starting thinking “I wish I would have” this is always the place I end up. I did the best I could. If I’d have known better, I’d have done better. I just wasn’t able to read that crystal ball clearly enough, but it’s all turned out okay anyway.
I have the swirlies. I’ve just experienced an interlude. Wasn’t planned. Wasn’t expected. Was fun. Very fun. Not exotic. Not spectacular. But unusual, unexpected, and very, very unique. It was signature. It was classic. It is the stuff good romance stories are made of whether they end in happily ever after or not…and not all of them do. But now, it is post-interlude and I have the swirlies.
The swirlies. It’s that state of mind, hmmm, maybe that state of emotion too, where everything’s in motion. My thoughts, my feelings, my reactions, my motivation, my thoughts, my feelings, my reactions, my motivation…all of it is just swirling around like leaves in a breeze. The wind’s not blowing hard enough to just clear the yard of all the leaf matter. Leaves are in motion, spinning, floating, dangling, coming to rest momentarily, then getting picked up again by the next breeze that floats through.
This is my state of mind this morning.
I’m filled with thoughts.
I’m fill with emotions.
I can’t sort any of it out. I’m not really even sure I want to.
I can’t keep any of it still for more than a moment or two and it all comes bubbling right up to the surface again.
I have to go back to work tomorrow. Correction. I have to go back to work today. Because there is laundry to be done, a house to be cleaned, bills to be paid, and children’s needs to meet.
But I am filled with emotions and thoughts and my own needs. I have my own questions. I wonder. I doubt. I fear. I hope. And, none of it will settle. I want. I do know this. I know what I want and that is not swirling. Everything else is swirling around that.
I have my own wishes…and my own regrets. I wish I could have….I wish I’d said…I wish I’d asked…I wish. I regret that I didn’t…I regret that I did…I regret…
And I wonder. I wonder what. I wonder if. I wonder why. Will there be the opportunity for a re-do? What if there isn’t. Why? Why not? What? What if?
I also fear. I fear the if…the when and the why. Maybe, especially the why or worse…the why not.
Thoughts dash in and then out and back in. They are swirling, roaming, floating, dashing, fleeing, swirling. I have the swirlies inside.
It is evident that today I will not get any answers. I don’t even know if there are any answers to be had. For that matter, I can’t even pin down the questions. So without questions, answers make no sense anyway.
I will not get any nearer knowing or resolving or settling anything today, I don’t think. The leaves in my mind just refuse to be raked and bagged. I am certain that it is going to be a waste of time to even try to address the tumbling mess of emotional and cognitive matter moving messily about my wild mind.
So, I am going to give up and go do something else.
Like laundry. And making breakfast. Or preparing for work tomorrow.
Or any matter of other really normal, routine, business-as-usual things that I would be doing anyway….if the last three days hadn’t happened. And that’s the problem with interludes.
The really good ones can’t be planned. They come as a completely unexpected surprise.
And, when they are over….
When they are over…the return to reality can be almost painful.
Because a really good interlude, especially one that isn’t planned or scheduled, can put one in touch with what really matters. And sometimes, it’s just hard to get back to the laundry after that.
The Wild Mind 