Category Archives: Perspective Shift

New Year, New Priorities

Change, Healing, Perspective Shift, Positive Attitude

Well, here we are, almost a full year since my mastectomy. I had my second surgery of the year on Mon 11/11 — had my ovaries and fallopian tubes removed. It was surgical removal or keep them chemically suppressed with a monthly injection. The past three months of injections proved to be full of unwanted side effects, so it only made sense to cut the estrogen off at its source.

And now I’m getting ready for another surgery in 5 days, reconstruction at last.

After hitting my grief limit in mid-October (over Mr. Avoidant), I slid back into my steady stable happy single life like nothing ever happened. I finished October on a high note and moved right into November and December without missing a beat. After my surgery, voila! it was time for the holidays. I thoroughly enjoyed my family, friends, and food. It was a great Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year.

I forced myself to refocus on my health and my kids. I haven’t spent an extra thought on Mr. Avoidant for months. Although he works with me, he’s not in the same building. We rarely have an exchange, if any, because my employees are typically the ones who interface with him. There have been two near encounters, but I stopped them before they could start.

One night, after dinner I saw I had a missed call from him. And a text saying something to the effect that he knows I don’t want to talk to him, but he just didn’t want to put my family through whatever it is that he’s going through. It’s alcoholism. That’s what he’s going through. He needs help. He knows it, I know it, everyone knows it, but he remains in denial, which is more than half the battle.

I did text him back. I spoke my mind, basically told him his silence the past couple months was response enough that I needed for my perspective on him. I also told him he’s hurting people by not getting himself help.

Response from him? More silence. It’s fine. It’s sad, disappointing that’s how he deals with problems, but more silence it was. I left it there.

Fast forward to our company Christmas party. I saw him from afar and wanted nothing to do with him. He looked terrible. Badly dressed, heavier than I remembered, and drunk. I had to walk past his chair at one point and he asked how I was doing. Uh, fine. F-I-N-E. After the dinner portion of the evening, I went to the restroom, and low and behold, he’s the ONLY other human in the hallway with me. For shits sake. I had to acknowledge his existence. He tried to start a conversation. He must’ve asked how I was doing, and I just said “Good”.

G-O-O-D.

And good I have been. I don’t even know what I was thinking having any kind of romantic connection to that guy. Basically, I was in a bad place (post-chemo, no hair, needing attention), and he’s always in a bad place (alcoholic who tells good jokes to get attention)… it was the perfect storm. He caught me in a vulnerable state, and I allowed it to happen.

Never again.

This New Year, there will be no dates to just date. There will be dates to see if there’s a connection that could potentially work long term. If none, go away. Run far far away. Right now, I’m not even focused on any dating (I guess I wasn’t last time either, but whatever). My focus is to heal from this last surgery and take care of myself and my family. I have a plan to buy a new car. My daughter is going to start driving and take over my current car. I’m taking care of my body, my family, my finances, and anything else that’s important to ME.

My New Years resolution is to give myself grace. Try my best and remember I can’t control everything. God has it.

New Year, New Priorities.

God, Family, Me.

Stifle Me Not

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

Back to Basics

Breast Cancer, Change, Perspective Shift

Life can be hard enough when you have normal health. But when you add medical treatments in the mix, daily life becomes very deliberate and basic. I look back at what I used to do and wonder how I accomplished so much in 24 hrs.

My mornings used to involve my alarm going off at 5:30 AM with me thinking “I wanna sleep in”, as I shuffled my sleepy self to the shower. I’d rush through the entire morning – getting ready, packing lunches, nagging kids, etc. I’d fly out of the driveway with my son, drop him off at before-school care, and rush through traffic to get to work by 8 AM. I was almost always 5 minutes late. I’d work through a morning of phone calls, emails and people stopping by my office.

Lunch was my break, but not physically. I’d eat and typically go for a mile walk in the park.

Then I’d power through an afternoon of calls, emails, and people interaction to 5 PM. From there I’d race through traffic to get my son from after-care, get home and start dinner. Dinner, clean-up, and parenting all mingled in there. Sometimes I’d fall asleep on the couch by 9 PM (no wonder), and sometimes I’d indulge in wine and snacks and maybe a phone call with a friend or watching a show.

Wow. How impressive I was. For the past 20+ years I’ve been quite literally running my ass off.

Since January, when I had surgery, life has slowed down. When I returned to work from medical leave, it temporarily sped back up. That gave me a sense of normalcy for about 3 weeks and then I started chemo treatments. Life is now very deliberate and slow. I cannot pop out of bed, shower, and immediately caffeinate. My new ritual to pray, hydrate, focus, and determine how much I can handle in a day. That is followed by coffee, but my day is no longer fueled by coffee and chaos. I’m way more intentional about what I choose to do in a day.

Today was one of those days. Yesterday, I went into the office to work for a few hours, and I could feel myself overdoing it. I finally threw in the towel and told my boss I had to leave. I needed a mango smoothie, rotisserie chicken, and a nap. He’s been an absolute angel, allowing me to work both remote and in the office when I’m up to it. I decided that today I did not want to feel overdone. Today I could only handle the basics.

I didn’t sleep well last night and woke up with a terrible headache. My first priority was getting rid of the headache. Going into the office was not going to help that. I hydrated with some organic coconut water and laid under blankies on my couch. When the headache subsided, I made some coffee and toast. My next priority was getting the kids off to school. Next, I texted my lawn guy to see why on earth my yard was still not mowed after more than a week since the last service. It’s been bugging me all week, and I wasn’t about to go all summer having to nag the lawn company – I was ready to switch companies if this is the norm. I usually do all of my own yard work, but chemo has me doing less these days and I’m supposed to stay out of the sun.

Before 9 am, I accomplished getting rid of my headache, getting the kids off to school, and the lawn company magically appeared to mow the lawn. I then started working. My world did not magically combust because I didn’t focus on work first. It got better.

When you get diagnosed with cancer, or anything for that matter, or if something otherwise terrible happens, the first question often seems to be “why?” Why is this happening to me? There may never be a clear answer, but from here it looks like maybe I’m supposed to be paying attention to some very basic things and not let myself be swallowed up for the sake of doing everything I can to burn the candle at both ends.

I think for the past 20 years I’ve been trying to do my best at anything and everything. Now it’s time for me to do my best as some very basic and meaningful things.

Stifle Me Not

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

God Guide Me

Bible, Perspective Shift, Trust

I recently (within the past year) had the realization that chasing after happiness is a never-ending pursuit of ultimate disappointment. The unfortunate part is you don’t usually realize you’re doing it. It’s such a habit, you pursue what you think will make you happy, end up not as satisfied as you hoped, and repeat the viscous cycle. We do this with whatever fills our “needs”. It can be with something obviously bad, like drug use or dependency on alcohol, or it can be something less obvious like shopping, working, dating or needing to control situations.

Over the summer, I went back to church and started reading the Bible. Quite frankly because I was all out of ideas. I got fed up. Fed up with endless disappointment of whatever it is that I’ve been pursuing. Fed up with chasing and controlling and trying to “be somebody”. Trying to prove my identity? Trying, trying, trying… to do what and for what reason?

And as I got more into scripture, I realized that’s the point. When it comes to God, you’re identity is in God’s hands, so you’ve just got to pay attention, ask for guidance (aka pray), and do what you think is best (regardless of your own personal interests). It’s obviously easier said than done, but this perspective shift has been a game-changer for me the past few months. Whenever I’m in a funk or upset, I pause and just pray, “God, please guide me.”

More often than not, my answer is to be patient rather than react. And that’s okay, the answer usually comes (just not always with my preferred timing). I’ve had less sleepless nights the past few months by simply handing over my worries and frustrations rather than dwelling on what “I” should do about them. I’m not fully in control. I need help all the time. It’s humbling. I can’t do it on my own. I have limits.

Maybe I’m living in some kind of fantasy world over here with all of my positive thinking and prayers. If I am, I don’t want out, because not allowing myself to be consumed with my frustrations is amazing.

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

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

Stop the Insanity, Jesus Take the Wheel

Dating, Old Patterns, Perspective Shift, Taking Charge

According to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary, there are three basic definitions of insanity:

1 dated : a severely disordered state of the mind usually occurring as a specific disorder

2 law : unsoundness of mind or lack of the ability to understand that prevents one from having the mental capacity required by law to enter into a particular relationship, status, or transaction or that releases one from criminal or civil responsibility

3 a: extreme folly or unreasonableness
the insanity of violence
His comments were pure insanity.

3 b: something utterly foolish or unreasonable
the insanities of modern life

I decided that 3b applies to me. This year, definition 3b must be me. And if it isn’t 3b, then it’s overridden by definition 1 or 2.

When you’re a decent woman, with children and a valuable lifestyle to protect, continuing to date after a few bad dates seems… a bit insane. After reflecting on my past two years of dating, I’ve come to this conclusion: It’s not good. It’s very very bad. If I’m not insane, then I’m quite unlucky. And it’s time to question my role in all of this.

2022 dating:

  • In July, I had four lovely dates with the The Noble Nomad who worked a great job, traveled between two states to be a great father to his son, he didn’t drink or curse or speak ill of anyone, he was intelligent with a growth mindset, and he loved sunsets. He also wanted to “get romantic” with me and still “get to know” other people he was meeting through his dating app… in whichever city he happened to live in each week.
  • In June, I went on two dates with the The Guarded Hat Man, who basically got to know me just enough be life long texting buddies, tell me about the love of his life that he’s never gotten over in 20 years, and wouldn’t disclose the status of his hairline under his ball cap.
  • In May, I had the memorable one date with The Drunk Vampire, in which he bit me and left me stranded at a winery in the middle of Amish Country (albeit my wise choice to be left behind).

Each of these scenarios could be seen as a standalone isolated instances, but I get the clue — I’m clearly not attracting the most stellar gentlemen. If I’d only been dating a year, I’d give myself a break… but then I remembered my track record the previous year.

2021 dating:

  • Winter 2021, there was Lazy Pothead Stinky Cologne Guy. He had a decent job, similar views, was nice and calm – but he routinely got high on his couch with his dog during non-work hours and wore really really bad cologne.
  • In Fall 2021, there was the Personal Trainer Gone Mad Man. He was a big deal once upon a time, and at first he beamed with his residual confidence from days past. However, unbeknownst to me, he recently acquired some health issues, which led him to snap in emotional outbursts. And sadly, he thought he was entitled to do so, with no accountability for his behavior.
  • Spring/Summer 2021, there was Millionaire Buy-My-Love Man – he was made of money and wanted me to take care of him in exchange for all he could buy me – dinners, gifts, vacations, etc. Doesn’t sound bad does it? It doesn’t until you add in his loud talking voice, him constantly repeating himself, his frequent gambling addiction, his lack of physical activity (which contributed to limping and overabundance of snoring). This was all wrapped up in a nice bow of his constant mood swings.

It’s hard enough to go down Post-Dating Energy-Reset Lane once, twice, three times… but this has been ridiculous. My family and friends love to hear my stories. They think each date “fail” is so hilarious. And they all say the same thing: “I’m so glad I’m not dating these days.”

After the sixth bad egg (for me) in two years, I decided I have to do something differently.

I can turn off my dating apps and hide in my house? Nope, I’ve done that. I can try a different dating app? Nope, have done that and each app seems to have the same characters trolling around. I can go to the bar? Nope, I barely drink anymore and I have two kids. That one doesn’t work anymore. I can look for hot daddies at the grocery store? Um, no. I can get set up with someone from one of my friends? Nope, no one seems to have anyone that they can (or want to) set me up with.

I did the only thing I could think of that I haven’t done in awhile: I went to church.

I go every so often, but not enough to be considered “religious”. I grew up going to church regularly, but strayed after moving away once I graduated. I had both of my kids baptized, but I don’t routinely make them go to church.

I decided it’s time for a change. I needed to feed my soul with something different altogether and see if it helps me help myself. Never mind attracting a man. I can do that part, I’m just not attracting the right kind. Apparently, I’m bad at this. Very very bad at this. God is going to have work his divine intervention to redirect me.

Jesus, take the dating wheel, I’m done.

Stifle Me Not