Category Archives: Change

New Year, New Outlook

Breast Cancer, Change, Old Patterns, Perspective Shift, , ,

The New Year is a time to plan ahead. I feel like I can’t plan past January 22nd, my surgery date. I’ve never been in this situation before. This is so frustrating. No matter how much my brain understands what’s happening, my usual habits die hard. Everyone is talking about different things they’re planning to do in the future, and I’m here like, well, we’ll see how I feel in a few months. My daughter tries to ask me simple questions about her Spring sports, and it left me stressed and dazed. I’ve never had “I don’t know” as an answer for so many questions in all my life.

It almost feels like I’m going to be intentionally blocked from my usual lifestyle in order to change somehow, otherwise, I would never change. This has happened to me before, and I sense it’s happening again, although rather extreme means to get me to change don’t ya think? I guess major life changes choose you, you don’t usually choose them.

I would’ve never divorced my husband if it weren’t for him cheating. He wasn’t a healthy partner for me to be with in general. He was chipping away at my general well-being, but I made every excuse in the book for his behavior. Him cheating was, in my mind, the only reason I’d ever end things. Well, that day came, and even though it wasn’t an easy decision, it forced me to make a decision.

I feel like that’s what’s happening now. I am getting some clues lately, and it’s weighing on me. I am an A1 multitasker. From the moment I wake up to the second I drift off to sleep, I am doing multiple things and planning steps in the next few moments, days, weeks or months. I guess you could say I’m a woman. Haha! I do notice I may be more extreme than most, because I notice when other people aren’t or haven’t planned ahead. I’m always one step ahead of everyone else. And I’m tired. And I think this is a wake-up call to slow down.

My cancer is completely 100% fueled by hormones and there’s no genetic cause for it whatsoever. I’m not a doctor, but I have a sense of intuition that hasn’t let me down much. It could take years for me to figure out I’m accurate about something, but my hunches are often pretty close to the target.

I think my insane ability to multitask, plan, and organize is all a direct result of me coping with stress. When I was little, I hated to feel that pit in my stomach when something was wrong or I didn’t want to confront something or someone. I learned so well how to deal with stress that I don’t even know when I’m stressed anymore. I seriously don’t. Society has beat into our brains that women can do everything a man can do, or even do it better. Uh, no we can’t. I’m not built for this. I am out of my mind that I’ve been juggling a full-time job, two kids, and all the demands of a career and household, while simultaneously (occasionally) trying to date. Not to mention all of the little surprises that life in general throws at us.

No matter how many studies you put in front of me that “prove” stress doesn’t contribute to my type of cancer, I don’t believe it. There are many types of cancer and causes, so I’m not here saying stress causes all cancer. But if you look at my hormone-fueled cancer, it makes sense. Stress elevates cortisol, cortisol has an impact on estrogen. Estrogen, in my case, is growing cancer. I know environmental factors can contribute as well. There’s so much crap in our hygiene products and foods that it’s hard to say what is or isn’t a contributor. My gut is telling me I’ve underestimated the amount of stress I’ve taken on and dealt with in life so far.

I think I’m being nudged to cut back and reduce my stress, although that’s damn near impossible with two kids. I’m still going to worry about them and do all the things that all the moms in the world do for their kids. I don’t know the answer(s) yet on how I’m going to reduce stress, but the seed has been planted into my little brain, and I’m now consciously evaluating all of my habits that I call “normal”. This lifestyle of mine is slowly eroding me.

Two things happened this weekend that also led me down this path.

First, on Saturday evening, I was about to take my daughter’s friend home and I was stopped in my tracks due to my own lack of self-awareness. My daughter, her friend, and my son all piled in the car as I rushed around trying to get out the door. I had been doing work on my laptop and lost track of time. I had a case of sparkling water on the floor in the garage, and I bent down to grab a can before leaving. As I lifted my head up and twirled around to get into the car, I banged my head into the edge of the open car door (that I forgot was wide open). I immediately saw stars, wondered if I was bleeding, hushed the kids as they looked at me with wide eyes, and I went back into the house to get an ice pack. Luckily, I was not bleeding, and the immediate ice pack helped minimize the size of the knot on my forehead. But it’s two days later and that sucker still hurts. Why was I even rushing? I didn’t even realize I was rushing until I was made to slow down.

Second, last night on New Year’s Eve, I was getting ready to take my daughter to her boyfriend’s house. Right before leaving, I replaced the water filter in my refrigerator and began to run water through it, filling a big cup multiple times just to get the water flowing through the new filter and to make sure the water was clear. As I filled the big cup, I noticed it wasn’t filling much, but my daughter was ending her shower, so I figured it was just low water pressure. I took her to her boyfriend’s house, came back home, and began preparing some brownies to bake while also planning to cook some food in the air fryer while the brownies baked in the oven. As I opened the refrigerator to grab some eggs, I realized my entire refrigerator, including all the drawers, were filled with water.

What in the actual F*&K!?

Apparently, yours truly rushed through the filter replacement process and did not insert the filter tightly enough, causing water to come flowing out of the filter door and throughout the entire refrigerator. That clean-up process took about an hour, with lots of cursing and near tears moments.

When I first put the filter in, if you would’ve accused me of rushing and not putting it in tight enough, I would’ve fiercely denied such a thing had happened. However, hindsight is 20/20, and that is exactly what happened. I was rushing to do too many things.

My constant race through life is making me miss it. Or causing me to get injured or clean up more messes than I need to…

This cancer path is going to change me. I can resist it, or I can slow down and learn from it. Ugh, here we go. Time to take my own advice.

Stifle Me Not

The Waiting Game

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Change, Honesty

There are comfort zones you get into in life. Whether it be a job, a relationship, a lifestyle, etc. They always last for a certain amount of time… 1 year, 5 years, 7 years or more. But in my experience, no matter how long a comfort zone streak lasts, all good things must come to an end. That doesn’t mean you won’t find a new comfort zone, but it may be disruptive, no matter how big or small, as you transition to the next one.

In my 44 years of living, I’ve noticed that my comfort zones last approximately 7 years. Give or take a few years. I won’t count basic childhood years because that’s just a series of disruptions no matter how you look at it. Once I graduated from college, the 7-year phases began. At the end of college, when I was 21, I met my now ex-husband. It was all fun and dreams for 7 full years. We got married at 28. We had a child at 29, and before I knew it, the 30s slapped me in the face with a 7-year streak of learning how to parent. I had a second child one week before turning 36. 7 years of dating, 7 years of marriage/parenting, followed by a new 7-year streak of figuring out my marriage was sham, divorce, and learning how to live on my own with two kids. Not to mention I had a career change in there.

As I enter 2024, after 7 years of figuring out how to navigate this “new” divorced life, I’m now being thrust into another life. No matter what the circumstances in my life, I’ve always been “healthy”. Not being able to define myself as healthy is really throwing me for a loop. Getting up to drink coffee, go to work, take care of kids as usual, and not be considered a healthy person is really messing with me. I feel fine, I’m interacting with everyone fine, but… I’m not fine?

This waiting game from one phase to a next is about as psychotic as it gets. Telling someone they have cancer, but not doing anything about it for 2 full months seems like insanity. Today is Dec 29th. In exactly one month, I have 1-week post-op appointment with my oncologist. I’m not counting down the days to my surgery on Jan 22nd. I’m counting down the days to Jan 29th, when they tell me my recommended fate after my surgery. Surgery is like this big distraction leading up to the actual results that dictate how my next 7 years may or may not go.

I’m not excited to see what’s behind the next curtain. I’d rather the cancer curtain stay shut forever, but I guess this is the next leap out of a comfort zone for me. I want to say things happen for a reason, but that sounds like a load of radiant rainbow bullshit right now. So for the next 30 days I will be going to more appointments and preparing my kids and my work for my healing process. I kick off the New Year with a trip to the plastic surgeon on Jan 2nd. Goody goody gum drops.

I’m not going to be 100% positive. I’m going to be realistic with sprinkles of positivity and challenge-coping in between. I don’t plan on making some big “I’m going to beat this” statement, because I fully plan on living to be at least 92 and a half, plus I know this cancer was caught fairly early and is highly treatable. I just know it’s going to be a change from what I’m used to. I’m used to being 100% in control of every aspect of my life, and this is going to cause me to rely on others, which sounds like a damn nightmare.

It’s time to hurry up and wait for the next 30 days.

Stifle Me Not

Cancer Diagnosis

Cancer Sucks, Change, God

One week ago turned into one of the worst days of my life. I got a call from the doctor’s office that my biopsy results were ready, and they weren’t good. “There is evidence of cancer”.

Breast Cancer.

I answered my phone, sitting in my office at work. It was the day before Thanksgiving. The nurse’s voice entered my ear canal, but each word just made me freeze more. I could barely speak. I was stunned. She said she’d call me back soon because she had to call my doctor and have an order put in for me to be scheduled with a surgeon.

I hung up the phone and just sat there. I couldn’t function. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t move. Everyone else in the office was either gone for the long weekend or intently working. No one knew. No one knew a thing except for me. I finished up whatever meaningless task I was working on and left for Thanksgiving break. I was crying a little, but more so trying to make sense of what I just heard. I drove away and called my mom. She sounded devastated and thoroughly surprised. As far as she knows, this doesn’t run in our family.

My head was swirling with how I was going to tell my family. All I could think was I was ruining Thanksgiving. How was I going to tell my daughter and my son? How in the hell is this happening? What is happening? It’s been one week and I’m still trying to wrap my head around this new reality that hasn’t hit me yet. I find myself doing very basic things, like pumping gas, and then I remember I have a cancer diagnosis. And I can’t help but wonder how hard this is going to be on me physically and mentally.

I’d like to say I don’t remember the rest of last Wednesday, but I remember it all quite clearly in slow motion. After my mom, I called my ex-husband so he would know when I told my kids. His reaction was stupid. Next, I called my dad and asked if he was home so I could stop over. I didn’t want to drop this news on Thanksgiving, so why not the day before? Ugh.

My dad just knew before I could get all the words out and hugged me. My stepmom came home, and I had to tell her. She was a mess. They held it together while I sat there, but I’m sure they lost their minds once I left. I went home and told my kids my results weren’t good. My daughter was a mess. My son doesn’t completely understand because he’s younger. Lastly, I called my sister and then my brother. I just didn’t want to save this for the Thanksgiving dinner table.

It was horrible telling this news to all of these people I love.

The wonderful nurse called me back when I got home. She scheduled me for an appointment with a surgeon the next week. That appointment has already been moved to another surgeon because my cousin, who is a doctor, insisted I see a different surgeon. Over the past week I’ve had an outpouring of love and support from many people. I dreaded coming into work on Monday because I had to tell my bosses and immediate co-workers. I didn’t have to tell them, but it’s only a matter of time before they need to know anyhow. I’m going to need them. I’m going to need all of them.

So now I wait until I see a surgeon next Tuesday to find out more and “start the process”. I know very little, but I know enough to speculate what is coming. My mind is a fog. I’m doing really dumb things, like I walked into a health food store earlier this week to get a couple things, but once I was in the store, I couldn’t remember what I needed. Luckily, I had it on a list.

I was in a health food store because that’s somewhere I go regularly these days. Over the past three years I’ve dramatically improved my lifestyle. I work out regularly, I avoid processed foods and sugar, I don’t drink much alcohol, I get decent sleep. I do all the things you’re supposed to do. I avoid toxic people, I attend church and try to raise my kids to be good humans, and I try my best at all that I do.

And I end up with a cancerous boob that I have no control over. I was very angry. I don’t have time for this. No one has time for this. I’m angry that my kids are going to have to witness the aftermath of this diagnosis when their mom needs to be there for them the most. By the end of the long weekend, I was less angry and more sad. I did get a lot done this weekend that involved physical labor – putting up Christmas decorations, cleaning up leaves in the yard, cleaning out the basement, etc. I couldn’t sit still, my mind wouldn’t let me.

I want to be mad at God, but I’m just not. I’ve been around the block enough times to know He has some greater plan. It will end in blessings. It always does, but I have to hang in there for the ride.

Stifle Me Not

The Bible Say What?

Bible, Change, Church, Perspective Shift

At the end of August, something clicked. It was a slow click. It was a gradual build up of years past that aligned in such a way that I stopped many habits over the last two months. I just had enough with my current state of life, and stopped.

I stopped following/watching certain things on social media, I stopped scrolling through dating apps, I stopped letting my thoughts get the best of me, I stopped letting old perspectives halt new ones from coming in.

I started appreciating my life and family more, I started realizing I’m doing the best I can and giving myself a break, I started reading the Bible, I started going to church, I started raising my standards.

I’ve never really been into reading the Bible before. I had all the reasons: It’s too long, it’s too complicated, it’s been translated so many times over the years, etc. One day I had a question on my mind about the Ten Commandments, so I randomly googled the books of the Bible where the Ten Commandments appeared. Exodus and Deuteronomy. I flipped to Exodus 20 and read it. The next thing I know, I read the entire book of Exodus.

After that I didn’t touch the Bible for weeks. It’s like I was slowly digesting everything that I’d read. This month, I picked up the Bible and back-tracked to Genesis. I’m halfway done. I can’t get enough. My thirst for more Bible knowledge has completely replaced all of my old habits. It’s the greatest history book of all time.

I’m a little confused, but pleased, with whatever is happening to my brain, and my being. I’ve been sleeping better and thinking more clearly. I feel more sure of myself – I’m not sure why exactly. I’m a little sad I didn’t start this path sooner, but I guess some people go their whole lives and never open a Bible, better now than never.

I’m in learning mode. And I’ve learned enough that I can’t go back now. I can’t go back.

Stifle Me Not

Don’t Hesitate Too Long…

Change, Dating, Learning, Perspective Shift

By Friday I didn’t hear much from my rainy Tuesday night date. I figured he was done with me. I don’t need fireworks, but a spark is a nice start. He reminded me of an attractive/nice co-worker that I’m not attracted. I enjoyed his company, but wasn’t interested like that. In light of this realization, I turned on my dating app again. I do this a lot you guys, I get bored and go man shopping even though I know it’s not healthy to keep doing it. Well, when I turned it on, I saw a new guy in my small batch of matches. His name was Joe. I was initially attracted to Joe. I haven’t dated a Joe yet. The next thing I know, Joe “liked” my profile.

Whaaaat?

I wait, a little stunned, because the dating app is whack and the likes don’t usually arrive that fast. I finally go back in and re-review Joe’s profile. Joe looks like someone I want to talk to. His only downside (on the surface) is that he lives an hour away. I decide I’d rather get to know someone I may have a chance with than go on lukewarm dates with nearby guys that don’t have a spark.

I’m an idiot – either there’s a spark and I jump in too fast, or there’s no spark and stay longer than necessary even though I know I want to run the other way.

I respond to Joe, and we have immediate and flowing conversation. We knock out most of the super important value-related conversation topics right away. Joe is about 4 years older than me, but not too old. Joe was hitting allllll of my dating mental checkpoints.

As I’m chatting with Joe, I get a message from the Tuesday night date guy at like 10 pm that night.

Whaaaat?

I hadn’t heard from the guy in 12 hours. I convinced myself we were going separate ways – not ghosting, but not fully acknowledging the lack of spark either. I made no commitment to this guy, so I didn’t feel guilty for texting a new guy at the same time. Okay, I felt a little bad – made me realize he actually liked me and I just didn’t like him. It sucks to be rejected, but it also sucks to reject someone else, especially if they’re a good person. Good people are hard to come by these days, but just because you can doesn’t mean you should. I couldn’t write him back yet. I had to respond thoughtfully later.

So Joe and I kept texting. Joe started off strong, but then I started to get a little skeptical of Joe. He attempted to cross the flirting zone. I held my boundaries, and of course he tried to act like he was being playful. I flirted to a point, but I called him out and told him I wasn’t looking for a sex-based foundation to a relationship. Men like you until you don’t agree with them or push back, then you’re just inconveniencing them. He ended up agreeing with me. Or so he said. I was skeptical, I was mistrusting. I had been here before, but I figured pushing back in the beginning would either help stop before it started, or establish my ground rules early one.

I went to bed and woke up to more easy conversation with Joe. I kept pushing back if he even tried to cross the flirting zone, and he backed off. Then he wanted to schedule a date with me already. I was not ready to meet this guy. I’d been chatting with him for less than 24 hours. I told him it would be two weeks before I didn’t have my kids and could go out. In the back of my mind, maybe I wouldn’t meet him at all.

By Saturday afternoon, I responded back to Tuesday night date guy. I told him I really enjoyed our time together, but wasn’t feeling all the feelings I wished to have at that point. He immediately thought he did something wrong. I said no. We texted each other good luck. The End.

This is exhausting.

Sigh. Now I have this Joe guy texting me and I’m not sure if I like him. We can’t realistically meet for two weeks, so I’m trying to decide if I should bail now or wait it out. By Saturday evening, the content of his texts mellowed out. I was surprised. I don’t know if he was acknowledging my boundaries or if he got tired. If he stayed like this, I didn’t mind getting to know him more. But when I went to bed on Saturday night, I was still skeptical.

On Sunday morning, I did text him first, and immediately was disappointed in myself. “Let the boy make the first move” was all I could think. Ugh. He texted me back, but he’d slept in. I had already been up with coffee, shower, and getting ready for church. I wasn’t sure if this guy was going to be compatible. I went to church with the family, then breakfast, following by a day with my family and cooking. I didn’t hear from him all day. And similar to the last guy, I thought maybe he fizzled out. Nope, he surfaced again around 6 pm.

I used to get giddy when I started chatting with a new guy. That was about 5 guys ago. Now I’m a jaded doubtful brat about it all. I hate that I’m like this. I was mad that I didn’t take a break from dating when I said I was, but I was also mad that I was even dating at all, and that made me want to rage against my ex-husband, all of those feelings just made me feel like further crap. So I went back into day-by-day mode, and I just simply texted him back.

I texted him back and told him how busy I was all day. He responded and let me know he was actually busy all day too. Here I assumed he was going to laze around on the couch all day and watch football (because I know he’s really into sports). I shouldn’t assume things. Anyhow, we chatted more, but at some point I was just over the conversation. I know I was just tired. I told him goodnight.

I went to bed, but for some reason I went into my dating app real quick. I wanted to look at his photos again on his profile, but his profile was gone. Poof! Gonzo! That only happens if the other person 1) unmatches from you, or 2) he deletes his app altogether. I just assumed it was #1. I went to sleep crying my eyes out, because I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to meet him yet, but apparently I can’t handle rejection myself. I cried and cried and blew my nose and fell asleep, not expecting to hear from him ever again.

I drove to work very sad this morning. Sad overall because nothing is working out in my dating life ever. I surrendered that part of my life a few weeks ago – I said here Jesus take the wheel – and then gave in and tried again for whatever damn reason. Shame on me for trying. It really makes no sense what my motive is. It’s not fun, even if it is for a little bit. I learn from drinking hangovers, but not dating hangovers apparently.

I started my Monday work routine. Around 8:30 AM, there was a text from Joe.

Whaaaat? What is happening? Am I losing my mind?

I responded and we had a decent morning chat. I asked why he deleted me from the dating app. He said he didn’t, he deleted the app altogether because he was sick of it already and was enjoying talking to me. I actually think he was being genuine.

I went to TJ Maxx during my lunch hour. Right as I walked in the door, I saw the perfect Kate Spade purse for me. It had all of the right purse dimensions, style, and pockets for me. I picked it up three times and looked at it closely. I never treat myself to a new purse, even a discounted one at TJ Maxx. I put it down since it was connected to a security tether and planned to revisit it at the end of my shopping trip. After about half an hour, I ventured back to the purse section, fully committed to buying the purse, but it was GONE. Someone else had bought the purse I was instantly so attracted to.

Okay, I’m getting it. Nice one. Is this a joke? Lesson learned.

I thought Joe bailed and I was sad. I lost out on a great purse because I didn’t grab it first and I was sad. Moral of the story: If you shop around too long and don’t swoop up what you want, you’ll miss out.

I’ll give him a chance. He seems to handle all of my questions and mistrust of humans quite well.

And hopefully I’ll see another cute purse to buy in the future.

Stifle Me Not

A Rainy Tuesday Night Date

Change, Church, Dating, Honesty

Last Call guy resurfaced literally within minutes of me posting my last blog post. We continued to chat throughout the weekend. We’d been chatting for over a week, and he still hadn’t asked me out. Granted, I was sick and he had THREE county fairs to go to, to watch the tractor pulls there, so I wasn’t waving my hand for a date to a tractor pull. I have been very perplexed with his country fair fascination, but to each their own fancies I guess.

I kept the texting going with him after he resurfaced because he maintains good conversation, answers all the hard questions, keeps a positive attitude, and is fun, so I was like why not? I don’t have to marry the guy. We kept texting. I did wonder if he’d ever ask me out. I got my answer yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon, while I was at work, he asked if I’d want to get together either that night or later in the week. I said later in the week would be better. Then he realized he had plans later in the week, and we both had our own kids the upcoming weekend. So there you have it, the life of single parents trying to date. Suddenly, on a rainy Tuesday night, I had a date. Weird.

I didn’t feel a desperate need to meet him, but I was curious about who I’d been conversing with the past two weeks. I made arrangements with my kids and met him at a nearby brewery that evening. He was tall, looked good, smelled good, was upbeat and positive, wasn’t awkward, wasn’t a loud-talking aggressive person, and he was fun & engaging. We ordered a flight of beers to taste and some appetizers and had fun with it.

Overall, he was great company. If I’d met him the year before, I’d have been leaving that date as a giddy little school girl. I left smiling and happy to have met him, but I wasn’t bursting with excitement. Should I have been?

I was a little anxious to get home to my kids. I don’t ever leave them to go on a date in the middle of the week. Was that it? The older one is a teenager and old enough to care of the younger one, and I knew they were just doing they’re normal nightly routine. I promised to be home by 9 PM.

When I got home, my kids ambushed me with love. I hung out with them for awhile, and they clung to me a little. Maybe I was anxious because they were missing me? I made a mental note to not do that again, even though that was the first time I’d gone on a weekday date…ever.

I texted him that night and thanked him again for a good time. He responded similarly. And I dozed off. Not overly excited, but not disappointed either.

I realized one thing he said, which was a very small discussion in the whole night, was that he was taking his oldest daughter (she’s 18) to a concert soon. He named a band I’ve never heard of them. He laughed and said that they dress up and do a bit on stage where they make fun of the church, and the Pope. He snickered it off, and then changed the subject. It lingered with me.

It stayed, it simmered, it bothered me. It didn’t make sense compared to all of the other likeable qualities about this guy. And here I just started paying more attention to church and ridding myself of godless men. On the surface, I wouldn’t describe this man as a godless man; however, knowing that one small piece of information was enough to know this won’t be my dream man.

I’ve exchanged a few messages with him today, but my intuition is telling me what I think I already know about my rainy Tuesday night date.

Stifle Me Not

Circling Back to Where I Started

Change, Church, God, Learning, Love, Perspective Shift, Taking Charge, Trust

I grew up in The Catholic Church. I went to public school, but my dad made sure my butt was in a pew every Sunday, and I was not allowed to miss CCD. I was baptized as a baby, received my First Reconciliation and Communion in the 2nd grade, and in the 8th grade I made my Confirmation. Even though I didn’t go to Catholic school, I learned to fear nuns during my First Communion. Sister Mary Adolph seemed to be missing a part of her name.

My parents divorced right before my Confirmation, so I wasn’t all that into it. I was mostly a self-absorbed, but polite, teenager. I kept to myself, had my small friend group, and mostly stayed out of trouble. My dad ensured we went to church when we were with him. My mom did not. She would waiver. It depended on who she was dating at the time. Overall, I made it out of high school without making any negative life-altering choices. To this day, I credit my father with being a great male role model, even though I hated being dragged to church. I took it as an opportunity to check out boys as they walked up to communion. Why not?

I moved in with my dad my senior year of high school. I couldn’t handle my mom’s irrational decision-making (see: her new husband’s ridiculous rules, like telling me I had a bedtime at 17 years old). No thank you. I chose my own rational biological father’s strict religious household over my step dad’s ego-driven rule book from hell. My senior year was fun, peaceful, and I didn’t do anything stupid. I left for college, looking forward to an even brighter future.

When I got to college, my roommate all but declared she was an atheist. I think she didn’t say the word out loud out of respect for me. I found a Catholic church to attend right off campus and I went a few times during my freshman year. I’m not sure that I went anymore after that. I was too caught up in myself and school and friends and parties. I always believed in God, but church was reserved for when I went home during the holidays.

I met my ex-husband my senior year of college, and he was confirmed in the Catholic church. However, we didn’t go to church unless he came home with me for the holidays. When he proposed, it was a no-brainer that we’d get married in the Catholic church. Once we bought a house, we became members at the nearby Catholic church. We did our Pre-Cana classes there with a priest who could never remember my first name. Finally, we got married at my childhood church. It was an elaborate Catholic mass followed by one drunken reception.

My ex-husband wanted nothing to do with church if it wasn’t a major holiday or a wedding. Sometimes I could get him to go to mass with me on a Sunday here or there, but not often. I mostly gave up on dragging us to church, especially once the kids were born. I had them baptized when the time came. My daughter went to Catholic grade school, and she even got her First Communion. After getting divorced, I just checked out. I wanted nothing more to do with church. I didn’t have the energy to keep my son quiet at church, and my daughter was just “over” being forced to do anymore church after attending Catholic grade school. I chose to do nothing.

In 2018, my kids and I moved in with my religious dad and stepmom and we almost never went to church with them. We lived there for 1 1/2 years and maybe went to church only a handful of times. To me, it wasn’t a good use of time. It felt like I was going to an old people’s club. I had turned my attention to astrology and online tarot readings in the couple of years leading up to that. It was interesting, gave me comfort, didn’t feel so hard, and I “wasn’t sure if it was real anyway”. I had heard that these things weren’t “approved” of by Christianity, but I never opened the Bible or took any steps to lift my ignorance. Ignorance was bliss. I wanted to be left alone.

Fast forward to my past year of Adventures in Online Dating, and I’m brought back to religion. On almost every dating profile, there’s a line item for religion. You can state your religious preference and usually you can filter by it. I’ve selected everything from Christian to Catholic to Spiritual as my label and/or filter. I’ve become more and more aware of how many people identify as Atheist or Agnostic. And I’ve become more aware of how many men state they are Christian, but when it comes to their daily life, they might as well be living in the pits of hell.

When you tighten up the filters on a dating site, you are left with very few if anyone to choose from. It’s made me realize that I’m really missing something in my life: an actual relationship with God and like-minded people. All I’ve ever known is being forced to go to church, not why it was important. Now that I’m trying NOT to mess up the second half of my life, I’m discovering all of these God-less men. I don’t want that again. Been there, done that.

A few weeks ago, I went back to church. I enrolled my kids in Bible study (they aren’t happy, but they’ll thank me later). I also deleted any astrology or tarot card related links, apps, or YouTube subscriptions I had. And I suddenly have an urge to understand Bible readings.

In the midst of all this, I started chatting with a guy who seemed to check off all of the ideal dating boxes… except he doesn’t have church in his life at all. I always ask a new guy if they believe in God. His answer was “absolutely!” and he left it at that. It’s literally the only thing “wrong” with him (well, that and he seems to have a slight obsession with county fairs). If you know me, I don’t do country fairs, ever. We’ve been texting for a few days now, and he left me hangin’ last night. No more responses after we had a short discussion about what was for dinner. It’s been almost 24 hours. I have a clue that this one is over before it started, like many others. He never asked to talk on the phone and never officially asked me on a date. After the exciting “get to know you” phase fizzled out, we didn’t really click. Text messages felt forced. And he already told me he’d be going to a county fair tractor pull this weekend.

I’m sincerely not broken up about this one. He was a pretty positive individual, so that’s rare these days, but I was already trying to figure out my escape route. I had a feeling that Last Call guy wasn’t going to stick. I think he was my Last Wake Up Call to prioritize my dating standards further. Geez, and I thought I couldn’t get any pickier, but here I am: God first, Godless men get to the back of the line.

I usually have all kinds of anxiety when I decide to make a life change like this, but I feel nothing but calm. Calm and confident actually. I guess I’m circling back to where I started.

Stifle Me Not

Seeing Clearly (Sucks)

Change, Daughter, Healing, Honesty, Hope, Perspective Shift

Yesterday was an interesting day. It was a tiring but very necessary day. It was my daughter’s birthday – that should have been the main event. What I didn’t expect was the ending to the day. My daughter sat on the couch with me that evening and began venting. She does this often, but she’s usually ranting about her friends or teachers or something she wants to buy. But this time, it was about her father.

Let me back up to provide better context. Ever since I found out that my ex-husband was, in fact, a certified covert narcissist and lying manipulative cheater, I have not shared any of the fun facts about the divorce with my children. Anything has been on a need-to-know basis. For many reasons, but mostly because 1) they’re too young and it isn’t appropriate, 2) they still very much needed a father to parent them, and 3) my parents shared entirely too much information during their divorce and it just wasn’t necessary.

I’ve never lied to my kids, but I haven’t given them a bunch of unnecessary details either. They know I’m not a fan of their dad, but I always tell them he loves them and focus on shared parenting as much as possible. As my daughter has gotten older, she regularly asks me “Why did you and daddy really break up?” I tell her she’ll understand by the time she’s in her 30s. I believe she even thought I was at fault for breaking up the family at one point, and she’s challenged me numerous times about being the reason for all of the upheaval in her life.

I guess her dad recently told her his version and actually confessed to being a cheater. I’m not stupid enough to think he truly owned it, I’m sure I was made out to be a villian in some way. Ever since then, she seemed to observe him more closely. One day she told me she knew why we split, but I still kept quiet. No point in rehashing the past or adding fuel to a fire that is already out in my mind. She didn’t seem mad at him, but I’ve noticed that she picks up on many more of his personality traits and habits lately. She is observant anyhow, but this new fact has her very fixated on his behavior lately. It started out with her noticing small things he does or says. Until last night when it all snowballed into one big realization that her dad is not the person she has idealized her whole life.

I didn’t say too much, except to acknowledge that I understood what she was referring to when she described the situation she was frustrated about. She was telling me about how he was responding to (aka manipulating) her opinion about something. As she was talking, it’s like I was forced back through a time warp when I was with him and he had me doubting and questioning my reality over and over and over. It was a personal hell of mine, to have to do that on a daily basis to the point of detaching myself from my own reality just to survive. It is not a place I want to go back to, nor do I want her to live in that world.

My daughter was experiencing the madness of communicating with her narcistic father. I always wondered if it was just me, or if he would end up treating the kids similarly to me. I guess I got my answer. My daughter sees it for what it is right now, because she’s 13. At 13, you see things clearly. It may be confusing but she’s seeing it play out in real time – It’s not too late for her yet. I will calmly support her without aggravating the situation to the best of my ability. The good news is she has already been talking to a counselor regularly, and said she wants to talk to the counselor about her father. I am hopeful that she will not relive the past I went through with her father. I really hope she can have a relationship with him and not be manipulated by him. I don’t know. It worries me, but I’m confident in her.

It really sucks to find out that a parent is not who you thought they were.

After a lot of venting and some tears, my sweet daughter fell asleep on my lap as I pet her hair. She laid there peacefully for about 15 minutes and then hugged me and went to bed. I was so proud of her for owning her feelings, facing her doubts, and being honest about her realization.

And I have never felt so validated in my life. It’s taken almost a decade, and last night was the first time I could breathe in a long time. More challenges always await, but I can see so much clearly now.

Stifle Me Not

13 Again

Change, Daughter, Honesty, Learning

My daughter turns 13 today. I remember 13 so well. It was fun and traumatizing all at the same time. As a teenager, you view the world honestly – you see what’s happening for what it is. Maybe that’s the “traumatizing” part. You haven’t learned to sugar coat anything yet. It all is…what it is. It’s a small period of time in the grand scheme of things in between the joys of being a child and the harsh reality of being an adult. Teenagers get a bad rap for being negative or weird. The truth is, they’re just being honest and expressing themselves. And as adults, we’ve somehow become accustomed to masking life with a rose-colored glasses. We call it things like emotional intelligence (of which I’m both a fan and a hater – that’s a whole other post).

Teenagers use their emotions to express themselves – whether good, bad, or indifferent. In your teens, you learn how to cope with people. You learn what you can handle and what you can’t. You determine how to navigate certain situations – what works and what doesn’t. And so it begins — you form the patterns and habits that “help” you and carry those mechanisms with you into adulthood.

I’m watching my daughter now and it’s so interesting to see her patterns. She’s very honest with herself. When she’s uncomfortable, she hides in her room and confides in her friends. She comes out when she’s ready. When she’s feeling happy and free, she gets loud and silly. She goes with the flow of her feelings. She can be chatty or sulky – it just is what it is and she’s okay with it. She is as authentic as she’ll ever be. It’s how I used to be.

After getting divorced and moving back to my hometown, I started to do what I wanted to do with my life – in my career, my daily tasks, my hobbies, and how I expressed myself. I started to feel like me again. I didn’t have this overwhelming cloud of doubt over my head anymore – I was just being me. I remember saying to one of my friends that I felt like I was getting back to my old self, “like I was 13 again”. I didn’t put much thought into that statement at the time, but now that I have a daughter that age, it’s very eye-opening.

When I was 13, I used to feel my feelings and let them guide me. I didn’t care if someone else didn’t like what I was feeling – I didn’t even think about that. I just felt my feelings and dealt with them and managed my way through each day. Then I got into my 20s and 30s and let other people’s motives override my true feelings. And I learned the worst habit of all — I learned to “adjust” to others. I adjusted, they didn’t. And so that was my demise. I see this as a pattern in others as well and I want to smack them silly and scream “Go back to being 13-year old you!”

I know she will be okay. She is a wonderful person at 13 right now. I hope she can hang on to her authenticity more than I did. If she ends up back at her 13 year old self in 30 years, she will be so lucky.

Stifle Me (Her) Not

Ghosted

Change, Dating, Learning, New and Unknown, Rejection

Welp, that was short-lived. Not even a month has gone by and the last “relationship” is already done. I hung out with the guy from the dating app more last weekend. It was a very nice time. He seemed just as interested and engaged in everything as much as I was. We went for a hike, he cooked steak for me, we napped on the couch, we had lots of comfortable conversation. It was the perfect cool fall weekend dating scenario. I guess it was too perfect.

As I was hanging out with him the past couple weeks, I discovered that he is not physically well. He hadn’t been well in a year or so. He even had an upcoming surgery scheduled in the next month. He apparently has good days and bad days. I guess I was hanging out with him on his good days. I left his house with visions of our next cozy weekend together, and there was NO indication that we wouldn’t be hanging out again. We even had planned a date night for an event in about two weeks – I had a sitter lined up and everything.

On Monday, I noticed he wasn’t texting as often as he had in the weeks before. But I don’t often text much either when I get busy at work, so I wasn’t going to overthink every time lapse in between text messages. By Tuesday, I realized he was being very short. He was no longer asking me any questions about me. He was also being pretty negative and said he wasn’t feeling well. Wednesday was a similar type of day. I was pretty sad on Wednesday – I was sad for him not feeling well, but also sad for me, because I felt a little duped. I didn’t understand why he entered the dating world right now while his health was in the state it was in. If he didn’t feel well, how was he going to put any energy into a person he’s dating?

On Thursday I texted him “Good Morning” and he didn’t respond for a long time. And when he did, he responded negatively. He’s actually done this a few times when I’ve texted good morning, and I brushed it off. Red flag? I think so.

I asked him if I was bothering him or what was up. He explained that he didn’t feel well plus he had some family drama going on that was related to the upcoming holidays. I said ok and left it at that…BUT then he forwarded me the conversation between him and his sister to explain why he was so mad.

I read it. Okay. Got it. Made sense . Sort of. It actually seemed like she was reaching out and he was just being defensive toward her, but it wasn’t up to me to judge. I was just there to listen to him.

I was relieved that he was opening up to me after an awkward week of communication. He even said it wasn’t his intention to be short with me. I figured this was just a bad week for him, but I wasn’t sure how to navigate the conversation since he seemed so agitated.

So I asked him a few questions about the scenario with his family. Three questions to be exact. And none of these questions were too personal or out of line in any way. I just wanted to keep the dialogue going (since he just opened up about it) to learn more about him. He brought up the topic, and he was the one to elaborate on the topic by sending me copies of the conversation with his family. It didn’t occur to me that asking a few questions on the subject was out of line.

After I sent my few questions, he abruptly texts me back that he’s done talking about it, he feels like I’m interviewing him, he’s not in the mood to go into specifics, and he doesn’t care anymore. He asks to move on from the topic.

Okaaaay. Gaslighting? That’s what it felt like.

I was stunned. I wasn’t sure how to respond. I wasn’t sure if I should respond at all. I felt like I was in one of those damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don’t situations.

And I was.

I went about my morning at work feeling uncomfortable. And I was upset that someone I was trying to get to know was making it this difficult to have a simple conversation. I was going to text back a simple “Okay” just to ease the tension. But I’m not dating a guy to just be a people pleaser. I’m not dating someone to have a one-sided conversation where I don’t get to be curious or contribute in any way. No matter how bad of a day he’s having, I still matter. I’m not selfish and not caring. I was just asking some questions.

So I finally responded: “That’s how you get to know people better… by asking questions.”

Crickets.

And I haven’t heard from him since. It has now been over 24 hours that the ball was in his court. He has abandoned ship.

I believe I have been officially 100% ghosted. Even if he reached out to me by now, I can clearly see that he doesn’t have the energy or motivation to put into another human to have a meaningful relationship right now. I would have to tell him that.

I feel both rejected and relieved. I’m upset because it seemed like we had a good start, but it’s now apparent he likely wasn’t as into it as I was. I’m relieved that it was short-lived, might as well pull the band aid now instead of later. I already put in 18 years with one man that didn’t work out. This was only a little over 18 days.

If I said there wasn’t more than a couple of red flags, I’d be lying, but human nature is to hold on I suppose.

Thank you God for the brief yet important lesson.

Ghosted it is. I’ll take it.

Stifle Me Not.