Category Archives: Trust

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

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

The Pattern Continues

Dating, Old Patterns, Trust

Every time I date someone for a couple of weeks and it doesn’t work out, the same pattern unfolds: I get annoyed, I withdraw, I try to act like everything is fine, I focus extra energy on my kids, work, working out, I overthink and write in my journal A LOT, and I can’t sleep well.

Then, as suddenly as it started, it ends. It’s like another cycle is complete, yet again, and I’m free to live my days in my usual ways. I sleep well again and don’t overthink a damn thing.

Not. A. Damn. Thing.

It’s like sidewalk chalk that gets washed away by the rain. No evidence in sight that it was there. It astounds me how indifferent I can feel about a person today, who just a week ago made me smile or laugh or cringe or cry or otherwise invoked any feeling whatsoever.

On the flip side, I can go from completely fine with being single for weeks, or months, with no care in the world to meet a soul. Then something will trigger me to “try” again. It’s like a hidden switch is flipped. And as suddenly as my life returned to the simple routine life I know so well, it flips back to the wild unknown of the dating world.

If you’ve been reading my posts, you know I must be a glutton for punishment since I keep jumping back into the dating pool. Like a freakin’ idiot. I never know what will trigger me to try again. It’s so random.

My latest trigger was my crazy ass neighbor, Angela. Angela moved in next door last year. She is a working single mom of three kids. I’m a working single mom of two kids, and at first I was very interested to meet her, thought maybe we’d have something in common and could hang out.

Nope.

I can’t stand how loud she talks, how she screams at her ex on the phone in her garage, how she yells at her kids after 9 PM in the back yard, or how her parents come over and help her with every little thing. My daughter and I exchange raised eyebrows each time we hear her voice echoing through the neighborhood, and we’ve given her the nickname “Crazy Angela”. Angela and I are very cordial to one another, but I our vibes don’t match up. She is one neurotic & passionate lady, full of the delightful kind of drama that I automatically repel, like oil and water. We simply aren’t matched to be friends. We casually say hi when we’re outside and go about our own business. No need to drink wine on the deck and share life stories.

I noticed an orange Jeep parked at her house on a few occasions and didn’t think much of it at first. Until one weekend I was home alone and noticed the Jeep never left. Then I saw a guy on her deck one morning when I was out doing yard work. Ooooh, Angela has a new man!

Welp, fast forward a couple months, and I started to see the orange Jeep more often. It seemed to appear when her kids weren’t around, and it disappeared by Sunday evening. Just in time to avoid the kids! I was so proud of Crazy Angela. There she was getting her groove on and living her best life.

After my last debacle of a dating mess, I swore off men and went back to church. I figured I’d better raise my own vibe a bit if I want to attract someone that isn’t a lying, cheating asshole. So, I’m still going to church. And, for the past month I’ve been too busy to think about dating. Work has been busy, the kids started back to school, and it hasn’t seemed like there’s enough hours in a day. Then one night, I got home from work and see the orange Jeep parked next door. And I see Crazy Angela’s kids playing outside. I see Crazy Angela, her new man, and her kids all playing together. He met the kids!

What the heck? Angela and her new man are getting serious?!

I noticed, but that wasn’t my trigger. That same night I took my kids to a store. As we pulled out of the driveway, I see Crazy Angela again with her new man, close together in her garage, as she was leaning up to give him a kiss.

And there it was. My trigger.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how Crazy Angela had a man and I didn’t. Jealousy isn’t good. It’s bad bad bad. I don’t even like Angela, so why is this bothering me? I also didn’t feel good, and that added to my brain chaos and feelings of wanting more. I’m so sick of doing everything on my own. I just want someone to rely on, someone I can call, someone I can have over and hang out with until the sun goes down.

So after having an internal meltdown, I gave myself a pep talk. “Go get yours. Your dating app subscription expires Sept 4th. No one is forcing you to keep it paused right now. “

I flipped the switch. That night I played Candy Crush and fell asleep on the couch. I woke up to a comment on my profile, from a guy I’ve seen on the dating site, and thought about “liking”. I don’t usually make the first move. I let the guy do that. And he did. I didn’t respond that night. I was too tired, and wasn’t sure how stupid I was being by letting Crazy Angela trigger me into reactivating the pits of hell on my phone again.

On Saturday morning I woke up and stared at his comment while I drank coffee. Do I, or don’t I? Every time I jump into the wild unknown, I end up with… see first paragraph of this blog post.

I’m so sick of the dating cycle. So sick of it. Not starting before it’s even begun is the perfect way to break the cycle, right? I couldn’t answer that question. I’m not sure there’s a right or wrong answer.

I responded. And we proceeded to message each other for the next 3 hours. I learned quite a bit in Day 1, and I brought on the hard questions on Day 2. He answered them all quite well. We’ve made it to Day 4 of as regular texting buddies. Usually the next step is meeting. He hasn’t asked me that yet, but I have a feeling it’s coming.

I’ll let ya’ll know if the pattern repeats itself. The spell has to be broken at some point, right? I don’t know the answer to that question either.

Stifle Me Not

Feeling Lack

Dating, Dreams, Trust

It’s been a long two weeks without my kids. They’ve been with their father for a long period of time. They’re having fun. Enjoying their summer. Being kids and living their best lives.

I, on the other hand, am having an identity crisis. I’ve gone from Single Mom of Two Kids, to a Single Lady with Nothing But Her To Do list… and too much time to think about dating, or lack thereof. Sometimes I think I should just get a pet.

The first week the kids were gone, I was concentrated on work so it wasn’t too different. Just quieter. By the time the long weekend rolled around, I got bored and made a To Do list. It’s now all done. My Independence Day long holiday weekend went like this:

  • Felt sorry for myself and cried on Friday.
  • Power-washed the house on Saturday.
  • Visited family for a 4th of July party on Sunday.
  • Stained my deck on Monday and Tuesday.
  • Cleaned my kitchen floors, and descaled my Keurig coffee maker on Wednesday.

I thought I’d be able to use a couple of days during this time to get the know the new guy I met in the middle of June. We had a great first date, and have been regularly texting ever since, but never met up again because of our work and kid schedules. This whole time I haven’t had kids, but he had his son. Before I knew it, it was my last day of “free” time from my kids. So yesterday, when he asked what my plans were for that evening, I took the opportunity to see if he wanted to hang out again. He quickly agreed. I was a little annoyed that he couldn’t just ask me out on his own.

We met up at a Mexican restaurant. It was a little more of a subdued date than last time. The margaritas helped get conversation flowing. It was light chit chat and mostly me asking questions and him talking. I can tell he is guarded. He will freely talk when asked questions, but he doesn’t ask them back. Any information he knows about me is because I offered it up in conversation. I can tell he’s sensitive with a rough exterior, but it’s been a little frustrating trying to get to know him.

To my surprise, with how guarded he’s been, he suddenly opened up about the first love of his life. He told me the whole story, which was emotional, and I think he may have even teared up a little. I went from smiling and nodding to getting a little depressed about the whole thing. He seemed to still be in love with this person 20 years later. I was a little shocked that he went from surface level chatting to such a deep topic without much warning. I was left speechless. It kind of explained a lot about why his relationships have gone the way they have so far in his life.

After that, you’d think he’d asked more about my dating history. He didn’t. I offered up a little info, but he didn’t bite. I felt complete lack in that moment. Lack of someone wanting to get to know me too. The date was good overall. Not great, not bad. Just good. It was better than sitting at home texting him – I got to know him a little better. But like I said, did he get to know me better?

I thought getting to know this guy was a smart move because he was far from what my usual dates try to do – which is typically love-bombing to start, followed by complete good times, and ultimately manipulation of some sort. I’m done with that type of rollercoaster, but he was a complete 180 from that. It didn’t feel good. It feels like it’s not worth it. This is where I’m caught in the gray space of wondering if my perspective is twisted because of past relationships, or is this feeling of lack a legitimate red flag? I feel like I’d know how to give advice about this to someone else, but since it’s me, I’m double-doubting myself.

We walked outside the restaurant, bid farewell with some banter and a hug, and each walked to our cars in opposite directions of the parking lot. I sat in my car for a minute, bewildered, and looking for an appropriate playlist to fit my mood. It was an odd mood. Raw. Sad. Unsatisfied. Tired.

As I drove away with the windows down, the summer air smelled like it should be filled with good times, but tears streamed down my face for the whole drive. I couldn’t stop them. I was a sniffling idiot. I was trying to figure out why I was crying, because the date was not bad, but I was too tired to care. I let the music cover up my sobs and the wind dry my face as I gave up on making sense of anything.

Stifle Me Not

Trusting Thyself

Learning, Self-Awareness, Trust

Right now I have “What’s next?” on my brain. Evaluating current state and thinking about my next move. Thinking about my future.

I haven’t been future-focused since I graduated from college. That was 20 years ago. And that is probably the last time possibilities were endless for me. I experienced each day with the future in mind. Hopes and dreams were alive.

Once I got married and had kids, everyday turned into survival mode. I was lucky to get the kids stuffed in the car for drop off, and make it to work on time. I lived to pay bills and possibly plan a vacation or do some big home project. Vacations never happened. Home projects were rare. I’m not blaming marriage for my life woes, but acknowledging that I let myself get in a rut and never got out of it until I was forced to.

After my divorce, losing my job, and being forced to sell my house quickly (only to live with my parents for the next year and a half), I found myself in the bottomless pit of survival. It was a challenge to feed my kids and wash my hair. I saw other people with their families out in public, talking about their jobs or plans. And I couldn’t fathom planning anything past the end of each day. I didn’t have a job, didn’t have cohesive family, didn’t have my own home, and didn’t have a purpose other than to survive for my kids.

After about 10 years of constant challenge, I have risen up considerably despite my weaknesses. I have achieved the unthinkable for me since just a few years ago: Stability.

This is my danger zone.

There are no big problems in my life right now (knock on wood). I’m caring for my kids, doing work in a career and company I like, making money, and happily keeping busy with daily life stuff. Minor challenges are merely temporary annoyances these days.

I felt like I was drowning for so many years, so this is a new territory for me. I’ve come up for a very long, much-needed breathe of fresh air. Everything is, dare I say it, Good?

It’s all very good. BUT, I’ve been conditioned to prepare for the worst – and I’m trying to shake that habit. Adjusting my mindset for the next great thing, not the next bad thing.

I say this is my danger zone because I’m capable of doing just about anything when I want to do something. That can be both a good thing and a bad thing. I can execute to make things happen, but it doesn’t mean what I choose is the best way forward. I stopped listening to others. Started listening to myself. My biggest threats include dating toxic med, career boredom, spending too much money, and quite simply not trusting my gut.

Right now I’m calm and quiet. Wide awake, but quiet. There are no loud voices in my head leading me in one direction or another. No noise. I’ve worked so hard to clear out all of the noise and distractions. All is quiet. Almost too quiet.

My mind keeps spinning with these words: Whatever you do next, choose carefully. Choose very carefully. This is what freedom looks like. I am free to do whatever I like, but choosing wisely is key to avoid losing my hard-earned stability and freedom.

Right now there is nothing to choose except to trust myself when the time comes to take the next step forward.

Stifle Me Not

That Scent Me Running

Dating, Honesty, Learning, New and Unknown, Trust

At the end of 2021, I started dating a guy. By the second week of 2022, I already moved on.

I guess I’m finally getting the hang of the dating game, without letting it take a toll on me. I’m letting my gut feeling take over and do the work for me. I’m tired of overthinking or pretending too long. It’ll be whatever it will be.

I went on about 5 dates with this most recent guy. That was enough. No point in pretending and getting attached for an inevitable departure. It takes about 2 – 3 dates and a week of constant texting to get through the initial “getting to know you” phase. I was feeling pretty good, but not overjoyed at this point. I felt like I had to see him again to make the call.

By the second weekend of date 4 & 5, he was trying to lock me down into girlfriend mode. He was calling me all the pet names, sending all the lovey emojis when he texted, holding my hand in public, and adding stuff to my Netflix watch list. Oddly enough, I wasn’t annoyed by those things. That stuff usually wigs me out and I run like the wind, but I hung in there. At the end of date 4, I was definitely not all in, but he called the next morning and wanted to take me to brunch. Who in the hell doesn’t want brunch?

The Problem: The bad part was I liked him, his personality, most of his values…. BUT I just wasn’t fully physically attracted to him. I was at first, I thought, but I underestimated what lack of attraction can do, or not do. Each time we parted ways, it nagged at me a little more (without me fully admitting it at first).

Lack of physical attraction messes with you. My brain and heart were all confused, so my animal instincts took over and said “nah”. Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t a bad looking guy. There’s a reason why I liked his photos and went on as many dates as I did. But man, I just couldn’t lie to myself anymore.

The Deciding Factor: Each time I was with him, I noticed he had on some kind of scent – I didn’t know if it was cologne, man body wash, deodorant or what. It actually smelled good, but only when I was with him. It’s after he left that made me insane. It was like a cologne bomb was dropped in my house, on my sofa, on my clothes, in my hair. I would ride with him in the car and sit next to him on the couch for a couple of hours and I would be drenched in man balm.

I KNOW it wasn’t that strong in person, so I’m still baffled at why it was so strong after he left.

It is like a dog marked its territory. I felt totally marked. One time I had to air out my sweater and change my top. The next time I had to completely change clothes. And the final time I was with him, I raced home, sprayed my coat in my own body spray, and took a shower. I felt like a fog of man fragrance was following me everywhere.

This was so odd. I’ve never had this problem before. I told one of my co-workers when I got in to work this week, and she simply said “Oh, if you really liked him, you wouldn’t mind his cologne”.

She’s right. The scent made me run. Maybe it was another indicator since I wasn’t being honest with myself about how not attracted I was to him?

The Solution: I waited a couple of days and let him know that I couldn’t see us moving too much further along. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him I didn’t like his scent – that would be a lie, I hardly noticed it in person. I just didn’t like it’s aftermath!

Weird problem to have, I know. But I feel so much better now. Usually, after I break it off with a guy, I feel a little bad and overthink it a bit.

The Outcome: I don’t feel bad. I feel like I did myself a huge favor. I let my animal instinct track the scent and handle the problem.

Stifle Me Not

One step backward, a giant leap forward – FINALLY!

home buying, Moving, New and Unknown, Trust

After my disappointing real estate loss last weekend, I reconsidered another house I had seen.

I thought about how I initially liked that first house. It was practical and fairly updated. In fact, if I hadn’t seen the next one, I probably would’ve put an offer on it. It was smaller, but manageable. The driveway was flat, so no hill for the kids to worry about when playing basketball or challenges when clearing snow. It had vaulted ceilings, so even though it was smaller, it was more open. It has a few cosmetic fixes, but overall it had good bones. And it had the main features I wanted in a house: Attached garage, deck,  3 bedrooms,  2 1/2 baths, lots of storage space, and first floor laundry. And a manageable yard. By Wednesday I was convinced that if I didn’t go back to look at it, I might regret it and it’d be gone by the next weekend. So on Thursday I asked my realtor if I could see it again, and I brought in the wolf pack – my family.

I took my kids and my parents. When we walked in, and I felt like I unleashed the wolf pack to sniff the territory and report back. They did just that, and I watched every reaction I could. I knew deep down this was a good house. I just needed some reassurance after doubting myself for so many years.

Then we stood in the kitchen and made an offer plan together. I wasn’t in this alone like I was on the last house. I felt very sure of this move. We left and went to dinner. By the time I got home, I signed all of the purchase agreement documents and I sat and waited. It was about 8:30 PM and I had no idea if I’d ever sleep that night. A little after 9 PM, the seller came back with a small counter offer, and it made sense. I accepted.

And just like that, I bought a house.

I have been living with my parents for a year and a half. I almost never thought this day would come. Not only is it a great house, but it is in the same school district, so my daughter will not have to change schools. And my son will start elementary school in the fall in a school district that I know and love. I will be 5 minutes from my dad and my brother. I am 5 minutes from the grocery store. My work is about 25 minutes away. This is all new and exciting, yet I have a my comfort zone not too far away.

Throughout the night of excitement of buying a house, my stepmom asked about several items that were left in the house – shelves, tools, some small furniture items, a trash can, etc. The realtor said that it will all go. But after checking with the seller, it turns out that she is out of state and she intended to leave all of these useful items behind to the buyer. Me.

While many people may not need things like tools, or shelves… I was elated. I am starting from scratch. When I move, I have to buy new furniture – I don’t have a good couch or even beds, and many other items that I can’t even think of right now. I have a small storage unit that has been full for over a year, and once that is unloaded, that is all that I have.

That night I went to bed in awe, with a smile on my face, and a warm heart. Things that are meant to be are easy. This house was easy to get because it made more sense for me. The other house I thought I wanted would’ve been too much work for me to take care of. Things are working out in certain ways for a reason. I’m trying to trust the process.

Tomorrow is the home inspection. And after that I wait for my closing date to be scheduled.

The possibilities are endless and I cannot wait to get started on this new journey.

Stifle Me Not

 

Settle Me Not

home buying, Hope, Trust

My home-buying search has begun.

I forgot how frustrating home-buying can be.

There’s all of the “what-ifs” and “what about this…” or “that”… it’s a game of speculation and daydreaming and giving yourself regular reality checks. I love it and hate it all at the same time. I’m limited to a set amount I can spend. Sure, I can spend more, but then have I learned anything in the past 20 years since I’ve reached adulthood?

No.

And if you don’t learn your damn life lessons, then where does that leave you?

Yep, sure as shit, back at the beginning of the damn lesson. Karma 101.

I’m not sure that my realtor is doing a damn thing. If I send him a property, he’ll act on it and get me in to see it, but it appears he’s not watching the market for me. Maybe he is and the market sucks. It’s hard to tell. Plus it’s fall, so the housing market, well, sucks for buyers. I do what I can to be proactive, but I have this thing called a job that I go to everyday and its sucking the damn life out of  me. Then I have my kids in the evening, and well that’s a whole other form of life-sucking. One kid (the 4 year old) is up my butt half the time – to the point where I’m tripping over him – and the other kid (the 10-year old) hides in her room of filth and I have to pry her out to eat dinner and make sure she’s not turning into a screen time zombie.

I need a house so I can be comfortable in my life again. I’m so sick of being a guest of unwelcome messiness in my dad’s house. But at the same time, the freedom of not having a mortgage is pretty great. Although, I’m strapping myself with continuing to save for my down payment. I just want the cycle to end where I can be in a little budget and live.

I love the crazy self-talk you go through when you start shopping for a house. I saw 3 houses on my first searching day. I crazily thought that it was possible for one of them to be “the one”. Then I anxiously went to see the fourth one. It was nice and I still didn’t like it. That’s when I realized I have more an idea of what I want than I realize. The fifth house was in scary shape. The sixth house was also very nice, but it wasn’t me, and it was too much space to take care of. Yep, six houses, with half of them being pretty nice, and none of them pleased me. I’m going to be a hard one to impress.

But that little nagging voice inside keeps saying “don’t settle. Don’t Settle. DON’T SETTLE!!!!”

I won’t settle for a house I don’t love. And I won’t settle for a man who doesn’t love me.

Not that man-hunting has even been occurring. I peek out from behind the sidelines. I have no desire (other than an occasional side glance out the car window) to do any form of dating. At least with home buying its all about me and my family’s needs. Dating sounds like some kind of journey to another foreign land to me right now.

So I’m going to get some rest and spend another few weeks being hopeful with the housing market. Not sure that I can pull off a house by Christmas, but that’s the hope.

I’ll just keep on going. Not settling sounds like a good goal to have. It’s not like I’ve been overly picky my whole life.

Stifle Me Not

May 28th Lesson: Soaking in the Moments

Learning, Love, Motherhood, Trust

I’ve been fretting for so long, I don’t know what I’m worried about anymore. I’m unemployed and on the verge of divorce, but I’m still standing and I’m still living each day. I’m getting it done. It’s different than I’m used to, but the sky isn’t falling. I’ve been learning to just take it day by day. People give that advice all the time [insert eye roll], but I never truly thought it was possible. I thought it was just cliche advice that people say when they don’t know what else to say.

I took my kids to visit family this weekend. It was fun and relaxing. I can’t remember the last time I looked back at a holiday weekend and thought it was relaxing. I’m always so busy getting things ready, cleaning things up, and people pleasing that I don’t even have time to soak in the moments. All I know is that I usually prep everything that needs to go in the car (everything from toys to sippy cups to extra clothes and diapers), and then fast forward and I’m exhausted after the kids are in bed with no recollection of how I got there.

The funny thing is, I did all the same stuff today – the prep stuff and the clean up stuff. and everything else in between. And I’m not exhausted. The only difference was that my not-yet-ex-husband wasn’t there. And I just didn’t try so hard, and then I wasn’t resentful toward anyone for not helping me. Normally, I’d prep the bags for the car and my internal dialogue would kick in:

Why do I always have to get everything ready?

What is he doing? 

Why isn’t he helping me? 

Do I really have to tell him exactly what to do? 

But lately, when he’s not around for me to “rely” on, I only have myself and just have to get it done. I’m no longer draining my energy worrying about why no one is helping me. It’s just me! And I’m getting it done!

There are plenty of times when I’ve spoken up and asked for help from him. Sometimes he would automatically help without a word, and sometimes it could turn into a fight. I was often criticized for my tone and told “I can’t read your mind!”

All of this I know. And you know what, I could be harsh toward my husband sometimes, but that harshness didn’t develop overnight. It was a gradual build up frustration and stress and discouragement. And I let even the tiniest of his hurtful words tangle around my already burdensome thoughts to the point of causing myself personal anxiety.

I enjoyed this weekend with my kids. I soaked in the moments (the good and the bad). I was present, and I wasn’t worried about anyone other than me and my kids. I didn’t even realize it until I sat down to write this just now. I’ve been missing out on a lot of moments all because my energy was zapped from worrying about things I’m already doing. The dark cloud that made me doubt myself is lifted.

Today I learned that I’ve been learning to live day by day and soak in the moments.

Stifle Me Not

May 20th Lesson: Without Trust, Love is Lost

Learning, Love, Separation, Trust

Today it has been seven months since I told my husband to leave our home. And he left without a fight. Just like that the house was eerily quiet and I was alone with my sleeping children in their beds. I made my decision.

I didn’t do it on a whim. I found him asleep on his recliner. His phone was laying there on his chest. I picked it up to charge it for him (no really, I did just want to charge it), and I see a text message from a recipient I did not recognize. I know the code to his phone, so I check out what this text message was about. It was enough evidence to change our lives forever.

I took an entire 24 hours to reflect on the past 10 years, I asked him one last question, and then I made the choice.

I don’t make important choices quickly.

It then took me a full week of wanting to throw up daily to make an appointment to see a lawyer. I’m a thinker. I must be sure that I’m making the best choice for me.

The biggest factor that helped me make my decision was this: What advice would I give my daughter or son years from now if they were in my same position?

I love my kids more than I love myself. I knew if I really considered what advice I would give to my kids, then that would be best for my own well-being. I struggle with making the best decisions for myself because I easily doubt my gut feeling and talk myself into a different direction that I think “should” be the right decision.

Several times in the past seven months, I’ve wanted to turn to my not-yet-ex-husband when he was around and throw in the towel and give him a hug and tell him to move back and let’s just be good parents and do the best we can.

Do you know where that would leave me as an individual human?

A big pile of comfortable nothing. I would be back at doing the best I can in life for someone that I don’t trust (other than with our kids).

The definition of trust: assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something

If I can’t trust in my husband, how can I continue to choose to love him? Love is a choice. I’m not sure I can make that choice if my own state of being will be a big pile of nothing.

That doesn’t seem like something I would advise my kids to do.

This man hasn’t shown one ounce of an attempt to gain my trust back. My main observation is that he doesn’t want to. Or maybe he doesn’t know how? (and see, this is how I got myself in this mess – by coming up with well-fitting reasons that justify his behavior). But I’m done with making excuses for his actions. His actions.

He has gone to seek help for himself. He continues to be a caring father. He has been nice and cordial to me. He has helped me with some things with the yard and the house. When I became unemployed, he kept me on his benefits so I wouldn’t be without health insurance. He has worked overtime and has continued to let me take as much money as I need to get by without my paycheck.

He is still caring for his family. But the trust is gone.

And he still blames me for his actions. His actions.

Today I’m learning that the real acceptance is setting in. Sometimes it takes me seven months or so to figure it out. Without trust, love is lost for me.

Stifle Me Not