Do you want some cheese with that whine?

If you’ve read any of my posts prior to this new me blog, then you know that this is not where I expected to be. I never expected to be a divorcee. I never thought that I would be restarting my life at age 40. This is not what I planned.

But I’ve learned something in the past couple of years:

Life doesn’t give a shit what you planned. At all.

I think John Lennon said it best:

Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.

Smart and talented.  Only the good die young, right?

Smart and talented. Only the good die young, right?

I had a plan. I knew that I was going to be married to the same man (not happily, but still), and we were going to see it through to his retirement. We were going to buy a house and settle into a neighborhood and make friends and be happy. Life was going to take us to where we were planning on going. I was going to teach and he was going to do something with his degree (that was vague because he didn’t even know what he wanted to do) and we were going to see our kids off to college and live there the rest of our lives.

But that’s not what happened. Instead, life got in the way.

Life is rarely, if ever, smooth or nice or predictable. Things happen. People happen. People change and make your life different because of it.

helping get up with textIt does no good to whine about it, or throw a pity party or to be unwilling to make the best of the hand you were dealt.

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day. He is a perfect example of being somewhere he never expected to be, ever. A good man, he is, one of the best. He made a mistake and now he’s sitting in jail because of it. He made a mistake and he’s paying the piper for what he did.

Some time before he got into trouble, his marriage fell apart. He likes to take most of the blame, but I told him that it takes two to work at a marriage and neither of them were willing to work hard enough. As his marriage was falling apart, he was sent to Afghanistan for a tour of duty there. While he was there, he met a woman.

Love at first sight is wonderful!

Love at first sight is wonderful!

I asked him if it was love at first sight. He said, completely without irony, that it was. He stated that they tried to ignore it, that he was going to try to fix what was going wrong at home. But then his ex-wife left, taking the kids and most of their possessions, and there was nothing left to save.

He decided to give it a go with this “once-in-a-lifetime” woman that he had chanced to meet while at war.

Fast forward and he’s in jail and she’s retired from the military. She moved to a town to be closer to where he is incarcerated and has been having a hard time of it for the past year or so. Things haven’t worked out the way that she expected and it’s harder on her to have him where he can’t physically support her while she’s out there.

He told me that he spoke to her the other day and she said, “If things don’t change soon, we’re going to be homeless!”

Now, this upset me on a couple of levels. First, your love is in jail. This is a shitty place to be. He doesn’t need thelove behind bars extra stress that your whining creates. Also, delivering that last line with a good dose of, “It’s your fault that I’m here!” really sucks. I mean, seriously? Secondly, I asked if she was working. He stated, “No, she’s not. She expected to be with me at my next duty station and be a stay-at-home-mom.”

Um, WHAT?

Seriously? I didn’t expect to be a 40-year-old divorcee living in a damn trailer in the northeast with frozen pipes and no money in my bank account.

But what you expect and what you get are very often two different things.

I’m not ragging on stay-at-home mom’s at all. Don’t get me wrong. But what the hell is wrong with this woman that she has decided that she would rather lament what should have been rather than rolling with the punches and standing up on her own two feet? This woman retired as a senior enlisted from the military. She’s obviously a capable person, who commanded troops. Get off your damn ass and get a job!

And, honestly, making the man that you proclaim to love feel even more guilty about where he is is not fair to him in the least. Stop whining and be a capable woman and take care of yourself.

I just don’t understand that at all. I mean, my situation right now is pretty crappy. Hell, it’s been a pretty cruddy couple of years.

But I don’t have the luxury to sit around and lament my situation. I have to get up and change it. I have to keep soldiering on. If for no other reason than my kids.

pooSometimes, life is big, steaming pile of poo poo. You can either sit there in the fumes and complain about the smell or you can move upwind.

The choice is always up to you. Always.

Sometimes, moving upwind is a lot harder than sitting there in the stench. But if life were easy, it wouldn’t really be

I'll take that mulligan now, thanks!

I’ll take that mulligan now, thanks!

life, would it? It would be some kind of game where you could call “Mulligan!” whenever you screwed up.

But life isn’t a golf game. You can’t sit there and play, “What if?” with you life. Correction: you could. But what would it gain you? How is that moving your life forward?

How is that making you a better, stronger person than the one you are today?

You have a choice. You can sit there in the stench or you can pick yourself up and chose to move forward. Away from that which is toxic, away from things and people that do nothing to help you become a better person.

Remember, the choice is always yours.

Personally, I don’t know of anyone’s poo that actually smells like roses.

Would you like to join me in moving upwind?

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It’s All New….A New Life, A New Me, A New Blog

When I started this blog in August of 2011 (really? that long ago?), I had no idea what the future held for me. My marriage of 16 years had fallen apart and I was so scared of what I was facing.

Here it is, almost 3 years later (damn!), and almost 2 years since my divorce was final, and I feel like I’m getting to know me better.

I feel like I spent the 16 years that I was married to him defining myself by what he wanted me to be. I was to be the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect partner.

Except, I was never good enough for him.

But, here’s what I came to realize.

No one is perfect.

And that’s not what love is about, anyway.

I have a friend that is in a situation that is not great on any level. And the woman that he loves is giving him grief over it, blaming him for the results that have come about because of her choices. What I told him is what everyone should realize about love:

Love is about accepting a person for who they are at the moment. You don’t make them feel bad about choices that they madelove in the past. You don’t hold them accountable for your choices. When you say you love someone, you accept all of them: past mistakes, faults, failings.

So, what I’ve come to realize is that he never loved me. Not in the way that he should have. And, honestly, I probably didn’t love him in the way that I should have.

And for awhile after I moved into my new place, I felt guilty about the fact that I had failed at my marriage. I felt like it was all my fault that things hadn’t worked out.

But then I realized that it takes two to make a relationship work. It definitely takes two to make a marriage work.

So, I decided to forgive myself for the fact that my marriage collapsed. Sure, I could have done things differently. But he could have, too. We both could have been more supportive of the other, could have given each other more understanding and room to grow, have grown with each other.

But we didn’t.

And here I am, single and happy.

And there he is, engaged and (by all accounts) happy.

When I moved out, one of the things that I promised myself is that I wouldn’t go jumping into a relationship. I didn’t want

"You had me at hello."  *Barf*

“You had me at hello.” *Barf*

to be that woman that had to have a man to complete her. My life is not Jerry Maguire. I’m not Renee Zellweiger and some Tom Cruise wanna be is not going to come along and make my life amazing.

And I didn’t need that. I didn’t need a man telling me how to define myself. What I needed was time to figure out how I like my eggs.

I needed a chance to figure out who I was, what I wanted.

I needed to figure out how to be comfortable with myself before I allowed someone else into my life. I needed to learn tohappiness be happy with myself before I could open the door to someone else.

And, although I’m happy, I’m not in a place where I want to open the door to someone else. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

I like being single. I like the fun it affords me. I like not being tied to any one person. I like not having to answer for my actions or decisions. I like all of that.

Because my marriage was not a partnership. It was me being held accountable every day for every word, every move, every decision. It was him holding me up as some kind of failure in his eyes because I didn’t behave in the way that he felt I should. It wasn’t marriage. It was prison.

free birdAnd now I’m free.

I get to spread my wings and do things that he wouldn’t have approved of. Things that will give me joy and experience. Things that make my heart happy and smiles come to my face.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not all a bed of roses. Sometimes it’s hard being the only one around to make decisions. To not have anyone that you can fall back on to hold you up when you need it. Sometimes it truly sucks.

But those moments are so outweighed by the joy that being single brings me.

Before he left me, the ex told me that his greatest fear was being alone.

How sad is that?

I am my own best friend. Maybe that sounds weird or sad, but it honestly isn’t. I love me. I love who I am.

Granted, I have areas I could work on. We all do.

But, for the most part, I’m really happy to enjoy my own company. I’m comfortable taking myself out to dinner with a good book. I’m happy to stay at home and enjoy the wonders of internet movie streaming.

And, let’s be honest, no one laughs as hard at my jokes as I do. I mean, really, I’m hilarious!

So, the woman that started this blog is no longer here. I left her behind, like I did all of my undesirable baggage. I have moved on without her (and him).

never forgetBut I will never forget. I will never forget who I was when I was married, right after the separation, the divorce. I will never forget that I was that woman: scared, unsure, not ready to face the real world.

I will never forget that I was that woman and that I never want to be that woman again.

So, here we are. Starting a new journey together. I’m glad you’re along for the ride. I know I’m excited to be here, too!

The challenges of being single in today’s weird world of dating is going to be a fun road to travel together. The harrowing adventures of truly being a single mom are another path that we’ll travel down. And let’s not forget the fun that we’ll have together talking about all sorts of things from books to movies to life.

I’m so happy to have you along. The journey would have been taken even if you hadn’t been here, but road trips are just that much more awesome with a friend.

So, we’ll start with a song. Something that embodies the strength that I’ve found within myself. A girl “anthem” if you will. Because, I think, sometimes women forget that they are strong. Our strength comes from the inside and often doesn’t show itself until you really, truly need it.

Let’s start this journey with a little Beyoncé. Just because she’s fun. And strong. And because I like the song 🙂

See y’all in a bit…..

Faking Phone Sex

How many women, by show of hands, has faked an orgasm at some point in their life?  *counts*

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Every woman has done it.  Maybe you just weren’t into it that night.  Maybe he was just that bad.  Maybe your mind was on what needed to be done for tomorrow. 

Whatever the reason, there are some of us out there that deserve an Oscar for making their man feel like a man by faking their satisfaction.

I’ve done it.  Don’t be ashamed.  We’ve ALL done it at least once in our lives. 

But last night, I think I stooped to a new low.

I felt like a phone sex operator….and I wasn’t getting paid.

I’ll admit, when my usual NSA (no strings attached) texted me earlier in the evening and started talking naughty, I couldn’t wait to have a little phone sex with him.  He was talking all kinds of stuff – tying me up, spanking me, using his tongue in places that are not mentionable in polite company.

Yummy!

But then I picked up the kids.  I ate a Subway sandwich for dinner and it didn’t agree with me, at all.  At all.

I definitely wasn’t feeling like any phone sex after eating my weight in Tums and fighting with the kids to take a shower and get into bed.

But, I had already promised.  And I don’t like to back out of my promises.

So, after the kids finally got to bed I called him.

And I totally phoned it in. 

I made all the right noises and said all the right words.  I talked sexy and dirty and hmmmm’d and ahhhh’d. 

I did all this while fully clothed and picking out my and the boys’ clothes for tomorrow.

Yes, I totally faked an orgasm on the phone.

He didn’t fake his 🙂

I have phone sex with this gentleman at least once a week.  It’s always enjoyable.  I like it because I never have to worry if I’m making stupid faces or my one-ab doesn’t look sexy in that light or that position.  I can just let go and totally enjoy myself.

But it just wasn’t happening last night.

I take solace in the fact that I don’t normally do this.  This was a one off deal, I hope! 🙂 

But I feel a little guilty that I did phone it in….but not enough that I wouldn’t do the same thing again.

Tums, kids and showers a romantic scene do not make.

Here’s to it being better the next time….and I’ll accept my Oscar whenever the Academy decides to call!

Alright, let me lay this out

So, my oldest son has been seeing a therapist for the last 3 years.  He is autistic and I felt that this would be a good avenue for him to take and talk about his frustrations/issues.  Puberty is a hard time.  Mix in the autism and it’s really hard.

Mix in a divorce, and you have his own personal hell.

And I sympathize.  I understand that this is super hard for him.  He could completely hide from the divorce while we were all living in the same house.  Then the weekend that I moved out, he had to move into a hotel with his father and his father’s girlfriend and he couldn’t hide anymore.

I think it was quite a shock for him.

And I totally understand that.   But today, at the therapy session, I just wanted to yell at him.

I deserve a life!  I deserve to be happy!  I deserve to not feel guilty because my son doesn’t want me to have a life!

I waited a damn long time to be happy and I’m going to be.  I am going to make sure of it.

I understand that he’s hurting and I don’t want him to.  I want him to be happy.

But he has to come to grips with the fact that I’m going to date.  I’m going to go out.  I’m going to have a good time and I’m going to live my life and be happy.

And he has to come to grips with the facts that his father and I are never, ever getting back together.

Hence, the therapy sessions.

I was so angry with him for basically telling me that I couldn’t have a life.  Who the hell does he think he is?????

I refuse to allow my children to dictate to me how I’m going to live my life.  I have sacrificed so much for them, happily so, and I continue to sacrifice.  But I WILL NOT allow them to lecture me about my dating (which I don’t really do), my drinking (which I do even less than my dating), or any other bad habits I have.  I WILL NOT allow them to make me feel at all guilty about living an adult life.

I WILL continue to give them support, guidance and unconditional love.  I WILL continue to behave like a responsible adult and parent.  I WILL continue to sacrifice to make their lives better.  I WILL, most definitely, make time for myself and enjoy said time.

But know this.  My children will not control my social life, any more than their schedule already does.  I will be an adult and engage in adult activities and I will enjoy them.

Guess the boys will just have to come to grips with these realizations, too.