Category Archives: Honesty

Detached

Change, Dating, Honesty, Hope, Learning, Perspective Shift, Self-Awareness

No matter how many times I say, “I’m done”… I’m not really done until the pit in my stomach, the tension in my back, and the ache in my heart subsides long enough to think clearly for a minute. I don’t know why all of that physical and emotional strain impacts every waking thought so much, but it does. And it sucks.

And that is exactly what happened this weekend.

On Thursday, it was 2 weeks since Mr. Avoidant dumped me over the phone and rushed back to his comfort zone. I accepted the 2-week mark as a definite “no going back” milestone to say the least. This was apparent after the first few days of no contact, but my heart didn’t know that. All my heart knew was hurt, which signaled my eyes to tear up unexpectedly, my mind to reminisce, and my left eye to constantly twitch.

On this Thursday of the 2-week mark, I started out strong – woke up and started my day as usual. But around 10 AM I started to get restless. The restless thoughts started again. I wasn’t about to go through another weekend sabotaging myself with more restless thoughts. I finally texted him. Yes, I texted Mr. Avoidant. Not to restart anything, just to see if we could talk – pointing out that such an abrupt ending was/is not healthy for either of us. I wasn’t expecting a response.

In less than 20 minutes, he texted right back. Very kindly saying he was sorry, that he still thinks about me constantly, would like to talk, and didn’t mean to hurt me. He said he was going fishing, and we’d talk soon. I simply said, “Ok, thank you.” I wasn’t about to fall into another one of his word traps. I know how nice he can be. And then he can turn around a dump you like a piece of trash because of his own insecurities. I thought saying “thank you” was just a good neutral response and then to be continued later.

To my surprise, I got more replies from him, saying he didn’t know what to say [the past two weeks], and he hoped I was doing well.

Since apparently “texting” is allowed now, I let him know I wasn’t very well because of too many feelings plus I’d been sick and on an antibiotic for chest congestion. He responded immediately “Oh no”… and blah blah fucking-blah. He tried to send me a joke. I told him I didn’t feel like laughing, just wanted to talk, missed my friend, and told him to catch some fish. I left it at that. No more responses, and then hours later in the evening he texts that he caught three fish. I responded “Yay good good”… and then there was no more responses from then on.

He’s gone on fishing trips before, so I knew he was with his friend and drinking and fishing and doing whatever they do. I figured I’d hear from him the next day or sometime during the weekend. I couldn’t sleep that night. I wavered between wanting to say all the words to get him back, and wanting to preserve my dignity and walk away with my head held high. I didn’t sleep too well on Thursday night or Friday night. I just wanted to make sure I could listen to him and not yell. That was my whole goal – try to gain a little more understanding, or not. But at least get some closure — to end this on a better note than it did.

Well, the weekend came and went. No more texts. No phone calls. Nothing.

I journaled all weekend. I cried more. I slept. I kept busy. On Saturday, I’d had it with my overactive mind and started cleaning out the basement. What started as a simple toy clean-out initiative turned into a gutting of old clothes and shoes that were clogging up my basement and our bedroom closets for entirely too long. After 3 hours, my car was full of 18 bags and 2 big boxes of donation items. Mostly clothes and shoes from me and my kids.

That felt good. As I cleaned out my own clothes, I threw out every piece of a clothing that conjured up any negative memory from the past. I had several items that my ex-husband had bought me or that I’d worn on an occasion that he ruined. So, in the trash bag it went.

I’m very much over my ex-husband, but I still have items laying around that remind me of him, or situations with him that I don’t like. Some things just are what they are, but if it’s a stupid shirt with a dumb memory associated with it and can be replaced easily, then hell with it. I don’t need it. I’m a 45-year adult with a great job, I can afford some new clothes here and there.

The closet clean-out was very therapeutic. I think my kids felt better too. I have a habit of cleaning out their drawers, but then I leave the pile of unwanted clothes sitting in the corner of their room for entirely too long instead of instantly putting it in a bag and donating it.

By the end of Saturday night, I was whooped. I was still expecting a call from Mr. Avoidant, but then somehow told myself he was probably busy and would reappear on Sunday night. Nope. We went to church, breakfast, and then went to a birthday party. No text. No call. I went to the grocery store and made dinner. No call. No text. I figured if he didn’t call this Sunday night, he’d likely never call.

And right then, realizing that if someone can’t give you the decency of a phone call after saying they would 3 days prior, that right there is pure disrespect and actually quite sad. It’s sad that he avoids life, and it’s sad that I face it head on and get this kind of treatment. That realization snapped me right out of it. Funny how it wasn’t the 2 weeks of avoidance, but the 3 more days of avoidance based on something he said he’d do and didn’t.

What can I say? I’m slow.

For the rest of Sunday night, I watched a show, didn’t look at my phone, didn’t check to see if he’d called or texted. Nor did I have the urge to. My phone attachment (to him) had been broken. My eye stopped twitching, my back stopped being tense, my heart hardened, and my dignity was no longer at risk of being compromised. Because, well, I hit my limit. I’m very much done.

This morning, I woke up feeling brand new. Mr. Avoidant was not my first thought in the morning. There wasn’t a dreadful thing weighing me down like the past 2 weeks.

Sometimes you don’t need the closure you think you need or deserve. Sometimes you just need to accept you were dumped by a moron and move on. I guess he was a good summer distraction while I grew my hair out from chemo.

I’m no longer distracted. I have more things to clean out of my basement. I didn’t survive months of breast cancer treatments to obsess over another person’s lack of effort. I have more life to live.

Stifle Me Not

26 Down, 2 to Go… and a Slow New Start

Change, Dating, Healing, Honesty, Perspective Shift, Radiation, Trust

I’m nearing the end of radiation treatment. On Monday, it will be done. Looking back, this past month hasn’t been bad at all. I think it’s been as good as it can be. No one wants to go through any kind of treatment, but this doesn’t feel like a medical treatment. It feels like something has been added to my routine for a month – just another thing to complete each day, like brushing my teeth. All of the radiation technicians and my doctor have been amazing. Radiation doesn’t have the overshadowing of “doom and gloom” that chemo had. I’ve even been making friends in the waiting room.

Throughout the past month, something has happened that I didn’t see coming… I started getting into a new relationship.

Like What? Why now? Yea, that’s what I was thinking too.

As luck, or fate, or whatever would have it, I’ve been getting to know a guy better that I’ve known for over two years. He had an on/off girlfriend most of the time I’ve known him, but he caught my eye from the moment I met him. The physical attraction has always been there. As I got to know him with small encounters here and there, I learned some things about him, but not the whole picture. So, I made assumptions early on and excluded him as someone that wouldn’t be in my dating pool.

At the end of last year, I chatted with him occasionally. When an encounter between us would end, I found myself wanting to know more about him. I was interested, but I wasn’t going to push anything, especially since he had a long-term girlfriend. And, as detours in life happen, I was diagnosed with breast cancer in mid-November and my mind shifted from wondering about potential new relationships to focusing on my health and immediate family. That’s all I had the energy for.

One day in early January, he informed me that he and his girlfriend had broken up. That sparked my interest, but I was doubtful anything could really happen between him and me. I was about to get a boob lopped off and start cancer treatment. It didn’t seem like a good time to let him know I was interested. And I valued him as a friend, so I decided it wasn’t best to pursue anything outside of friendship. I know men aren’t mind-readers, but I figured he’d do the pursuing if he had interest too.

Before I knew it, I was going through the recovery process of a mastectomy. The possibility of ever dating again was gone. It took me the full 6 weeks to recover from that surgery and it was tough. The first week was a blur – my new normal was being zonked out on pain medication and overall discomfort. As I started to heal in the first few weeks, I’d get occasional texts from this man. He’d check on me, see if I needed anything, and then leave me alone. His texts would come when I needed it most. He’d tell me a joke and we’d banter back and forth. I started to look forward to his texts, and I was bummed when I wouldn’t hear from him.

Many friends checked on me during that time, but he was the only one (outside of my immediate family) that consistently checked on me. I knew I could reach out to him if I wanted to, but I felt like he’d think I’d want more than a friendship, which I wasn’t sure about. I didn’t want to seem like some kind of desperate person, trying to get attention because I was at a low point in my life. So, I did nothing.

As we moved into Spring, I went back to work and we chatted/texted sometimes. He was so great to talk to, but it never lasted long. There was always and interruption. And I was about to start chemo. In my mind, no one wants to start a relationship with someone who’s going through chemo. And I figured no one going through chemo would feel good enough to keep up a new relationship. I also didn’t know the real him that well. I did on the surface, but not too personally. All of our conversations were “light” and “fun”. Nothing too in-depth. I sensed there was more depth there by a few comments he made, but I held back, especially with chemo on the horizon.

As chemo started, he continued to check on me. For the entire 12 weeks, I’d hear from him every few weeks. It was weird, because I was seriously in the dumps, and he’d surface right when I needed him most. On chemo, there are some very bad days – physically, mentally, emotionally. He’d send a message when I’d be in the middle of a crying meltdown, and just the fact that he thought to reach out was enough to cheer me up.

Once chemo was over, I continued on my usual path: Single, trying to be a good mom, healing, and forging ahead to what was next — radiation treatments. And I did just that. Then one Friday, I got a message from him. He started a light conversation and proceeded to tell me that he thought I needed someone, and he wanted to set me up with his friend.

I was very surprised at this. He started telling me about his “friend”. I was a little bummed because I wanted to get to know him more, not his friend. I went along with asking questions about his friend. This lasted until the next morning. I was suspicious about the whole thing. Something was off about how he was describing his friend.

Finally, he confessed there was no friend. He initially planned to set me up with his “friend” and then he was going to show up instead, but he second-guessed himself. He was afraid I’d be mad at him for doing that. I’m not sure how I would’ve felt. I was already disappointed we were talking about his friend when I wanted to get to know him better. When he fessed up, I had a wave of relief over me. And then he said he’d like to take me out sometime and that he’d been wanting to for a while.

My female brain malfunctioned in that moment. I’m pretty sure I went back to being 15 years old again. I turned into a smooshy bag of girl mush. I told him I’d love to go out with him too. We mutually admitted we both wanted to be more than friends after 6 long months.

The very next weekend, he took me to dinner. We chatted the whole drive. Chatted the whole dinner. Chatted the whole drive back. He picked me up and dropped me off back at home. It was an expensive dinner, and he paid. I was actually nervous and so happy to be with him. I was learning even more great stuff about him. We’ve continued to talk almost every night (for hours), have had more dates, and even got together once with our kids. He has a son and I have my two kids.

I don’t see signs of this stopping (even though I’ve looked every which way for them). I’m glad radiation is almost over, and I’m really happy a great friend is turning into something more than I ever imagined. We’re moving along at a slow pace, but it’s good pace for both of us right now.

Stifle Me Not

Getting Through #3

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Healing, Honesty, Motherhood, Positive Attitude

Treatment #3 was a success. It was delayed, but it happened. I now see why chemo ports are a thing. Since my treatment plan is 4 treatments, I wasn’t ordered to have a port put in. Little did I know how destructive one chemo treatment can be to one vein, and nearby veins. Treatment #1 was easy since I was undamaged. Treatment #2 was easy at first, but I needed a new IV in a new vein by the last medication. By this week, Treatment #3, the nurses were struggling to find a sturdy entranceway.

Everything was delayed by about an hour on Monday because I they had to redraw blood and poke me about 4 different times. God bless the very experienced nurse that was finally able to deal with my veins.

And God Bless my dad for impatiently waiting through it all, and continuing to wait with me for the next 4 hours. My mom helped me out when I had my mastectomy in January. And my dad has been taking me to all of the chemo treatments. I don’t wish this on any parent, no matter how old their child is. I’m so thankful for both of them being here for me, and helping me out with my kids. In the first few days after treatment, I’m useless. My dad has been picking up my son and taking him to and from school when I can’t. My mom checks on me religiously, as does my sister and some of my close friends.

No matter how much this sucks, this experience is making me so grateful for everyone in my life.

Today is a struggle. Somehow, I managed to get out of bed to say goodbye to my daughter before she caught the bus. Somehow, I managed to make my son a bagel, pack his lunch, and send him off with grandpa to school. Somehow, I managed to get on my work laptop to answer a few emails. And, somehow, I was even able to make myself an omelet.

I’m doing it. I’m getting through round #3.

Stifle Me Not

1-Week Countdown

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Honesty, Motivation, Positive Attitude, Taking Charge, , , ,

My surgery is in one week. Since being diagnosed, I’ve come a long way mentally. It was a rollercoaster at first. There have been a lot of “hurry up and wait” moments. Last night was my final screening test before my surgery, a CT scan. Just what I wanted to do on a freezing Friday night in January – hang out in the ground floor level (aka basement) Radiology waiting room to drink crap for more body imaging. Luckily, they called me in early, so I didn’t have to wait as long as I thought. On my way home, I gripped the wheel the whole way while driving in cold, windy freezing rain. I told myself this is winter; this is how it is. This is just how it is.

I now have a week to get as much done as possible before surgery. This includes everything with work, home, kids, and informing people that are taking care of me about certain things. Certain things like… hey, here’s a schedule for each kid before, during, and after school… and hey, here’s an envelope to open only if I don’t wake up from my anesthesia.

I don’t have a will. I realize I should have one, but I wasn’t prepared for this. I threw together a quick 2-page document that outlines a few things and wishes, and I intend to revise it, but I don’t have a lawyer to make a significant plan right now. I don’t even have time for surgery. Good thing God is in charge, because I don’t have time for any of this!

I’m still not sure how I’ll stop being my usual active, busy self, but I suppose the music will stop and I’ll just have to stop as well. The last few weekends have been nonstop. This morning I was running around with my kids for about 4 hours. My daughter needed new running shoes and a haircut, and then my son had a soccer game. It’s all basic Saturday errands, but I won’t be able to drive for a few weeks after my surgery, and it’s really bothering me. I understand I won’t even feel well to drive, but I’m just so used to being physically independent to do whatever I want.

I have a mental checklist of all the things I want to do before I’m forced into restriction mode. I have to make sure my bathroom is clean, my floors are vacuumed, my sheets are changed, my laundry is all clean, etc. I’m also making a grocery list. I intend to make a run to Costco next weekend, so we’re stocked up on school snacks and toiletries, etc. I have an oil change scheduled for my car mid-week. I want to get a couple of books. It’s all basic stuff, many things that I do regularly anyhow, but I have the extra stress of knowing I won’t be able to freely do these things for about a month after my surgery.

Well, here we go, it’s a 1-week countdown to getting a mastectomy and reconstruction. Let’s hope I tackle everything and then some, so I can get the healing process started. This hard, but my mindset is in a good place right now. It helps that I have a wonderful family and friends checking on me. My prayers are more focused on “God, take these worries and anxieties away” more than anything else. Well, other than “God, please protect my kids throughout their day”.

Lately it feels like, if I can just subside the fear of what’s to come, I can get to it and through it.

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

Solace in Not Settling

Dating, Honesty

Thanks to everyone who likes and follows my blog. It’s for my own self-therapy, but knowing others share in my dating madness brings me some sort of odd solace.

My last post, about not hesitating too long, well that was a joke. I basically missed out on a great Kate Spade purse, that’s it. I gave Joe a chance and he didn’t last more than 5 days. Joe is what I like to call A Wise Old Horn Ball. He was old enough to know better, but horny enough to screw up like a teenager on a porn site. Joe would text throughout the day like an old man going out to get his mail in socks and crocs, but in the evening he wanted to have non-stop nasty talk. I’m definitely not a prude; I’m not against talking any which way with someone I become intimate with, but I hadn’t even talked to this Joe Schmoe on the phone yet let alone met him in person. Sorry buddy, if I don’t know the sound of your voice, I’m not texting about what I want you to do to me in the sheets. Flirting is just fine, but sex talk with a stranger is disturbing. Ugh.

I said all of this to him directly. I even said “hey, we could talk on the phone, I don’t know what your voice sounds like.” But did he want to talk on the phone? No, he wanted to continue texting about what types of things I might say to him when we dated of course. I finally went off on him, and he responded in a joking manner, and then I never texted Joe again. And likewise, he never attempted to text me again. So there, we ghosted each other.

Relief at its finest.

I have basically been on one date a month since May through September. I think it’s time to hibernate again. No seriously, it’s getting ridiculous. Although, the last time I took a 5-month dating hiatus, I came back to a worse dating scene than what I’d first encountered.

The time to date is in your 20s and early 30s. Beyond that, I feel like I’ve missed a main window of opportunity. Clearly I married badly. I have learned, and am still learning from that mistake. I love my children and will go to the ends of the earth to ensure they continue to have a good childhood. They will likely blame me for things I’m doing now when they’re older. Bring it on, no one is perfect. They’ll realize I’m not so bad when they have their own children, just like I realized about my own parents.

My dad met the love of his life after being married to my mom for 14 years and then being divorced for 7 years. He has now been happily-ever-after married to my wonderful stepmom for 22 years. They met through a mutual friend at a funeral. There were no dating sites then. He called her up, asked her out, they went on a date, and they became engaged 3 months later. She was 43 and he was 46. I have not been to any funerals to find dates – there’s a thought.

My mom met the love of her life after being married to my dad for 14 years. She married her second husband 4 years later. She was married to husband #2 for 7 years. They divorced, then she ended up with husband #3. It basically took her an extra 11 years after her first divorce to find her happily-ever-after. This year she’ll have been happily married to #3 for 15 years. They were each other’s “3rd time’s a charm” spouse. She worked with all three husbands at one point. I don’t plan on meeting any future husband at my work, no thanks.

I was married for 10 years, and have been divorced for 4 years, separated for 5. I waited over 3 years to even think about dating, and it has gotten me… nowhere. I’ve had one short-term relationship and have gone out with exactly 6 more guys after that. None of them have lasted more than 3 weeks without showing true colors that were a non-negotiable for me. I’ve met some interesting fellas, but I’d never want to wake up to any of them for the rest of my life.

If I was in a my 20 or 30s, this would be humorous. But I’m 43. I do not want anymore children, so there’s no rush there. I simply want a partner in crime for the rest of my life that is left. It’s half over, I’d like to make the second half count big time. Sometimes I feel like I’m doing something wrong. The dating sites, distance, boundaries, whatever… And other days, I think I’m just not supposed to be with anyone yet. Or ever?

When I think about my parents and the aftermath of their divorce, they were each miserable. I can honestly say that I’m not miserable. I’m fairly content. They each didn’t get their happy back until they ended up with their now significant others. I feel like I’m in a good place the majority of the time. I know no one needs someone, but I sure do think we all should have a special someone who knows us well and cares damnit. There I go fantasizing again.

I’ve noticed that Orange Jeep Guy hasn’t been over at Crazy Angela’s house lately. In fact, this weekend, I saw a black truck and a new guy hanging around. My son was over talking to them at one point, and I went over to retrieve my very talkative son from intruding on their business. This new guy was smoking and they both smiled meekly at me. Black Truck Guy had apparently replaced Orange Jeep Guy. It explained why I heard Crazy Angela screaming in her backyard a couple of weeks ago.

As I walked back into my own yard from Crazy Angela’s yard, all of my dating woes evaporated. I originally had been jealous of Angela when Orange Jeep Guy, but now I see that Angela is in the same boat as me. She’s trying to find the best match for her. I couldn’t help but think at least my neighbors aren’t tracking what vehicles are in my driveway last and for how long. I’ve just been doing my thing, not advertising myself directly or indirectly to anyone. Just minding my business. I’m still open to having a special someone, but I’m not willing to settle or waste my time on anyone for too long if I have that gut feeling. I guess the consequence of that is not the worst thing in the world. I will just continue to water my new fall mums and figure out how I want to display my new mini pumpkins in my yard.

I will also continue to quickly peek in my dating app for any fresh man meat, and then promptly re-pause it when I see the same batch of familiar faces that I’m not interested in starting a conversation with…

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

Dating is Stupid

Dating, Honesty, Learning, Old Patterns, Perspective Shift

Dating is stupid. It’s a rollercoaster. So is life, but whatever. That’s besides the point. I’m mad about dating.

3-Date Guy turned into 4-Date Guy by the end of last week. He asked me out on another date before my kids returned from their vacation. He said he wanted to squeeze in as much time with me as possible because we’d both be busy in the weeks ahead. That was so attractive. Finally, a guy who was planning ahead, liked me, and didn’t play any games. He took the initiative to see me as much as possible, without making me second guess. Lovely.

It was a great 4th date. We went to an art museum, then to a minor league baseball game. There were fireworks after the game. It was one of those rare hopelessly romantic nights. The night was full of great conversation, good vibes, and all of the hopes that go along with new dating.

He let me know he’d be going to North Carolina that weekend to get his son. 4-Date Guy lives in Ohio (as do I) and his ex moved to North Carolina with their son after getting divorced. They have 50/50 custody and he basically lives part-time in Ohio and North Carolina, constantly going back and forth. He works remote, so it doesn’t matter where he works. He set himself up to be as flexible as possible to accommodate being with his son. Got it. Makes sense. What decent father wouldn’t make all the effort in the world to be with his kid?

At first glance, dating someone who is in another state part-time could seem like a challenge. I didn’t give it much too much thought because he said he still very much wanted to be in Ohio since his family and friends are here. I don’t need to be with the person I’m dating 24/7, so this actually appealed to me for a moment. I like my freedom and space just as much as the company of another. What I like is consistency of communication. I don’t need to be smothered by another person on a daily basis.

After the 4th date, everything was positive. That was a Thursday. On Saturday, as he was driving down to North Carolina, he called me. We had a nice chat, he said that he’d be back in Ohio with his son that same week and he could get his mom to watch his son one night. He asked if I want to get dinner again one night. I said that would be great. He suddenly said a tunnel was coming up and he knew the call would drop soon. So we said good-bye.

He called back 5 minutes later. He said he was out of the tunnel and felt bad getting off the call so fast, and that he wanted to say good-bye properly. He then said he missed me and I made him happy. I hung up the phone, grinning ear to ear, squealing like a little girl.

That was Saturday afternoon and I knew he’d be busy from then going forward. On Sunday it’s like he disappeared. My life didn’t stop. I got my kiddos back and life kept going as usual for me. It felt odd to go from two weeks of non-stop texting back and forth with him to a cold turkey stop. On Monday, there was little texting, but I knew he was driving back to Ohio with his son.

On Tuesday afternoon, there was a little back and forth texting followed by, what I like to call, a text bomb:

“By the way, planning out the week, it doesn’t look like there will be a good night for the two of us to get together. Sorry if you already carved out the time… [for someone to watch your kids].”

Deep breath. How to do I respond to this? Quite frankly, I’m annoyed. I have two kids and can make time to text and call and even to go out for dinner sometimes. He has one kid and the world stops.

WTF? (like I said, text bomb)

This is a bigger red flag for me than him wanting to get a hotel room on Date #3. I can handle the male desire to get frisky too soon, and set a boundary about that. But I do not have the patience to be put on a shelf every other week because you can’t multi-task when your kid is around. I don’t need to meet his child anytime soon, we don’t need to meet in-person when his child is visiting, but you can certainly send a text and keep getting to know each other in the meantime, right? Right?

The answer is yes, yes you can, and I know that clearly. My response: “Oh that stinks, but I get it”

Actually no, I don’t get it, but I don’t think it’s worth it to confront this unless I’m given more context than that. Actions speak louder than words.

Maybe I didn’t make enough of an impression in 4 dates. Maybe he’s a coward and doesn’t want to change. Maybe he likes me when he’s single, but not when he’s in dad mode. Maybe I’m jaded and make up excuses for people too often, and then I get pissed when things don’t work out. Maybe I’m a fool because I rush in, or maybe I’m brave because I walk away. All I know for sure is if I’m making an effort, someone else should be too or dating them is just plain stupid.

Stifle Me Not

Quality Time

Dating, Honesty, Hope, Learning, Old Patterns, Perspective Shift

You know when you just know?

After my sniffling meltdown on my drive home from my last date, I perked up the next day. I can’t stay in that negative space for long. The next day I felt the residual effects, but I concentrated on getting my kids back. Once they came home from their dad’s, they lifted my spirits. My little lovebugs were chatty and tan, and they kept hugging me because they missed me so much. My priorities. I don’t like wasting my time on things or people who aren’t my priorities.

I exchanged a few texts with The Brooding Man I was attempting to date on Friday and Saturday. And then I had a little light bulb moment. After three weeks of observing his behavior, I caught on to a pattern, one that mimicked a couple guys I’ve dated in the past.

It goes like this: He works his butt off to the point of exhaustion. This typically gets my attention as a good sign, but I’ve come to find this can also be used as a distraction to deal with… well, life. He works his weekday job and then always has something he’s preoccupied with after work until he finally sits down in the evening and marinates in his exhaustion to doze off early. On the weekends, he also becomes preoccupied with a project, but its tenfold. His weekend evening routine is similar. He’s so tired he has no down time to think or form relationships with anyone. Just to sleep and do it all again the next day.

This annoyed me at first, but then I thought Oh, he’s just hardworking, of course he’s going to be tired. And I’ve let these last few weeks slide by, not really getting to know this man because how can you get mad at someone for being tired? This seems like an innocent hard-working man problem, doesn’t it? It does, until you pair it with someone who also:

  • Claims he can’t ever sleep well, and
  • Refuses to answer any question that remotely dives into getting to know him on a more personal level

We all have nights when we can’t sleep, but to never be able to stay asleep is a sign your subconscious messing with you. If you’re a normal healthy human, you’re awake at night because you need to clear something out of your psyche or your sleep environment sucks. Deal with the crap that keeps you awake at night and you’ll be able to sleep. Speaking from experience on this one.

Similarly, we all have personal areas off limits to others at first. But this guy was extra special when I tried to veer from surface level chit chat. He did not want me to get to know him personally, and he did not ask me any personal questions either. It was confusing to go on a date with him and have him pour his heart out, but then be blocked from asking questions as soon as we were back to texting. As far as I could tell, he wanted to be safe texting buddies with a few dinner dates.

To say this guy’s dating pace was slow, is an understatement.

On Saturday night I was scrolling through the dating site and kept seeing people with prompts about their love language. I’ve always hated the 5 Love Languages book because of my past experience with it. My ex and I used it when we were trying to patch up the ol’ marriage with counseling. I couldn’t remember what my own love language was, so I took one of those online quizzes just to see. Apparently I’m a close tie with Quality Time and Acts of Service. And then the light bulb that went off earlier… it kept getting brighter and brighter…

I’m frustrated with this guy because I want Quality Time and he apparently could care less about that. He’s clearly attached to some past trauma, and no matter how understanding I am, I can’t fix it. Only he can fix it. I want and deserve Quality Time from whoever I date.

Welp, I decided to make one last-stitch effort to see if he would open up and I sent him a link to the 5 Love Languages online quiz. We’re a month into this texting-dating situationship, so I didn’t see this as crossing the line. Maybe it did for him.

That was at 9 PM on Saturday night. I did not hear from him again until 3 PM on Sunday. This was sad and amusing to watch play out. I had a hunch he would avoid taking the quiz, or responding back about it. He did just that – he waited until enough time went by so that he could send a very surface level text the next afternoon that simply said “How’s your afternoon going?”

Well, there was my answer. He was never going to open up, let alone spend any quality time with me. I responded “I thought you’d ghosted me”… and he did not respond again for a couple of hours, to which he replied “Now why would I do that?” Answering a question with a question… where have I see that before? hmm. Clearly, this is not a man equipped to deal with even subtle confrontation. I accept that.

I didn’t have the will or energy to continue. I had my answer. He was as closed off as they come. I’m no savior, and I’m not here to make it my life mission to have this guy open his heart. And I didn’t want to either.

I had many things I could respond with, but his maturity level wouldn’t have been able to handle it, so I stayed silent. This morning, as I dropped my son off, I discovered another text from him… “Morning” he wrote.

My initial thought was to text back “Nope”. But I didn’t. I will just let him feel the frustration of being too unimportant for me to waste anymore of my Quality Time on him.

Add another one to the dating dump.

I’m not sad about it. I’ve already met another nice guy who is very interested in getting to know me as I am interested in getting to know him.

Stifle Me Not

When You Try for Yourself and No One Else

Dating, Honesty, Learning, New and Unknown, Old Patterns, Perspective Shift

“The Date That Never Was” led me to almost give up on dating for the 276th time… but I left the dating app on “active” on for some reason after bidding the last turd farewell. It was pure disappointment in the days that followed, but life is stupid and doesn’t get better if you don’t try. I guess leaving it on “active” was my version of trying.

One Friday afternoon at work, I facilitated a very long group meeting . Afterward, I was spent. My energy was at zero. It was a good meeting, but I was ready for a weekend of doing absolutely nothing. I had no hopes or dreams for that weekend except to rest and play Candy Crush. After the meeting, I saw the dating app notification that someone liked my profile.

Here we go again, another one. This oughta be good…

I reviewed his profile with little to no expectations. Attractive. Check. Seemingly normal photos and profile posts. Check. And he didn’t live too far away. Check.

So I responded. And that led to some productive conversation over the weekend. Which led to him asking me out later the next week. I think this is how it’s supposed to go.

We met up at a low key restaurant one evening and spent the next three hours talking and getting fully lost in the date. It was such a pleasant date. He was talkative but not over the top, he was more attractive in person, and he paid. We both agreed we’d like to meet again. I was pleasantly surprised. I guess I’ve become pretty jaded since “The Drunk Vampire Date” over a month ago.

I drove home with a smile on my face for once, and all I could think was finally… now what’s the catch?

That was more than a week ago. And I’ve discovered the catch… he moves at a way slower pace than what I’m used to. Also, I’ve discovered that I am still more jaded about my past than I realized. This threw me for a huge loop in the week after our date. I wanted to get to know him better, but it seemed like there was stalling around every corner. I was beginning to be suspicious.

  1. I was excited to plan something in the next week or so. My kids went with their dad for two whole weeks (and he knew this), and I thought for sure he’d jump at asking me out while they’re away. Days went by, and he didn’t say anything. Not. A. Peep.
  2. His texts became less and less throughout the days. His schedule is much earlier than mine. He wakes up very early (4 am) and falls asleep pretty early (sometimes by 8:30 pm). But I started to wonder… was his schedule an excuse?
  3. I decided to get creative and asked him “what are three words your mom would use to describe you”… I just really wanted to get to know him. He came back and said “I honestly don’t know.” I was shocked. How could you not know what your own mom would say about you? I thought he was trying to get out of letting me get to know him.

I thought, because he didn’t immediately want to plan a second date, and wasn’t communicating all that great, he wasn’t interested. I get that the novelty wears off, but I genuinely thought he wasn’t interested anymore.

Yesterday, I had it. I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t asked me out, and there was no logical reason because every other asshole under the sun has come back and wanted a second date if the first one went well. So, me being an impatient one, I unpaused my dating app and drafted a message to him, basically telling him “I get it, I’ll leave you alone.”

But before I could send anything, he texted me something that made me stop in my tracks. It made me reconsider my mindset about the whole situation. I had responded sarcastically to him saying that he couldn’t think of three words his mom would use to describe him , and he said he really didn’t know his mom well even though he sees her… he said she’s closer with his other siblings that he doesn’t really talk to much either.

It occurred to me that this guy’s perception of relationships – with family, friends, or a significant other – is way different than what I’m used to in my own life. I finally let my feelings spill…for no reason than to make myself feel better, not to hold on or to make him feel bad… it had nothing to do with him anymore, I just wanted to feel better for once and voice my side.

I told him I was confused, was getting the feeling he wasn’t interested because we hadn’t planned a second date and there hasn’t been as much communication other than crappy texting. He also has kids, and our kid visit schedules have been opposite each other. Furthermore, our work schedules are different with his being much early than mine. I said our schedules are just different and it’s frustrating that I can’t get to know him better.

To my surprise, he rolled with my punches. He pointed out facts of our schedules too, without getting defensive, and reassured me that he liked me. He was very nice and understanding about it. And then he said “we have time.” I don’t know if it was the “we” part or the “time” part or what, but that helped. It just did. I thanked him for hearing me out. I was truly grateful for the way he responded. Real adult conversation.

I spent the rest of the night crying. I was happy, I was very happy. But I was sad for myself. I was upset that I have been holding in too many feelings for too many years. I haven’t found anyone that I can speak my truth to without them turning the tables on me. It’s been years and years of feeling feelings and keeping a big girl face about it. And finally, after years of doubting myself and building myself back up, all I needed was for one person to listen, understand, and accept that I had feelings (even if it was just a misunderstanding that caused them).

I’m glad \I spoke up, even though I was tempted to simply walk away. I stopped trying a long time ago, when it comes to men and dating. This time I tried, but it wasn’t for him, it was for me. Trying for yourself can sometimes be worth it.

Stifle Me Not