Good Enough

As any of you that have read this blog since the beginning (THANK YOU!) know, my divorce was rough.

You know the marriage was rougher.

Ward and June Cleaver we weren’t, that’s for damn sure.

Who cleans house in high heels and pearls??

Who cleans house in high heels and pearls??

I wasn’t spectacular to him. I’ll take responsibility for my share of blame in the collapse of our marriage. To be sure, he wasn’t spectacular to me. The only honest thing he did before he left with that other woman (I’m working hard at reining in my Bitter Bitch) was to admit that he had spent 16 years emotionally and mentally abusing me.

Yes, he admitted it. Shocking, no?

And, here we are, over two years since the separation and almost two years from the divorce and I’m still dealing with that crap.

hand tiedHow frustrating is that? I know that I can’t expect to be over it immediately. I know that I will feel the effects for years. But I have made so much progress in coming back to life that it is so defeating sometimes to know that I am still trying to untie myself from his definition of who I was.

It is so very hard to recover your self-esteem, your sense of self, when you spent 16 years with the person that you pledged to love and who pledged to love you, trying to do the best you could and it was never enough.

You were never smart enough.

You were never skinny enough.

You were never pretty enough.not good enough

You were never sexy enough.

You were never a good enough mother.

You were never a good enough housekeeper.

You were never…..

Nothing I ever did was good enough for him.

When the man that you have married tells you that you are subpar at every level on a daily basis, you don’t just get over that in a snap.

So, here we are, two years later, and I’ve met this guy. He’s pretty terrific. OK, he’s more than pretty terrific, but we’re not going to go into massive details. Let’s just say that he’s very sexy, very smart, extremely witty, a talented storyteller and so much more *nudge, nudge, wink, wink*.

He’ll tell me that I’m beautiful and sexy and smart. He does so with regularity and ease. You can tell that he means it, that he’s not lying to just get into my pants. I can tell he means it. Truly means these things that he says.

And I want to believe him. I do. I want to see what he sees. I want to feel that I’m beautiful, sexy and smart.

Sometimes, when we talk or when I’m with him, I feel it. I feel like I’m all of those things and more. I feel like Superwoman having a man as great as him think those things about me.

But, when our conversation is done, or I go home, or even sometimes when we are chatting, I wonder what it is that he sees.

I know he can’t be seeing the same woman I see. That woman isn’t smart, nor sexy, nor beautiful. She doesn’t have anything to offer to a great man like him. Why does he still talk to me?

For 16 years I was told that I wasn’t beautiful, sexy or smart. For 16 years I was told that I wasn’t enough. So, how can I be enough for this man who has everything in the world to offer a woman?

And therein, my friends, lies the issue.

I have to stop wondering what I should do to “be enough” for a man in my life and just be me. Be myself in all things.

Good enoughI have to stop trying to be anything for anyone and just be the person that I am.

I have to just be me.

I have to be that woman whose eyebrows are never plucked quite right, whose roots constantly need touching up, whose house is never clean enough, who feeds too many stray cats because she’s a sucker for them. I have to be that dorky lady who laughs too loudly at lousy puns, who thinks science jokes, Doctor Who and Cosmos are pretty awesome. I have to embrace my almost bottomless pit of trivia about nothing that anyone in the world cares about. I have to appreciate my love of all things J.D. Robb, Patricia Briggs, Laurell K. Hamilton, and J.K. Rowling. I have to be political and care about what is going on in the world. I have to be all of those things.

Because all of those things make up the person I want to be.

If somewhere along the way I happen to be lucky enough to find someone who is willing to accept me with all of my quirks and my dorkiness and my lame jokes and my obscure passions, and also finds me sexy and beautiful and smart, then that will make me a pretty lucky lady.

It doesn’t mean that I will not ever have periods of self-doubt. Bouncing back from a bad relationship isn’t easy and it takes time.

But I have to stop wondering what he sees in me, why he likes to spend time with me, what the attraction is. Instead of questioning it, I need to just accept it.

It doesn’t matter why. It doesn’t matter what.

All that matters is: He does.

That’s good enough for me.


Ugh ~ One of those weeks

Thank goodness this week is almost over.  Yes, we’re only half way through, but I’m done with this week.  It has been one thing after another and it kinda stinks.

I haven’t felt much like writing.  I haven’t felt much like doing anything.  It’s been so hot and humid that it just sucks the life right out of you.

The only brightside to this week is that I’m guest blogging on Black Box Warnings tomorrow.  That’s pretty freaking awesome!  The blog is run by A Clown on Fire and I’m very excited and humbled that he allowed me to guest blog there.  You have to go check out both of these blogs as they are terrific!  I’ll post a link for tomorrow’s blog post here when it goes out.

Other than that one bright, shining moment of my week, it’s been very blah.  Very, very blah.

So, with that excitement announed, I seem to have no energy left.  I must leave you now and repose on my fainting couch and have my servant bring me a mint julep.

See?  The heat is so bad, I’m hallucinating.  Mint julep’s are nasty.  However, if they are served by a very hot young man with a 6 pack and only a loincloth, I bet I could choke it down. 🙂

Tata all…..happy Hump Day!

Let me set the record straight

Yes, this is for someone very specifically.

For those of you that may have had any questions or wanted to make assumptions about my life:

Yes, I am alone.

No, I don’t need a man to make my life complete.

More, I don’t want a man to make my life complete.

No, this isn’t the ideal situation.

No, this isn’t where I thought I would be on the eve of my 40th birthday.

But, I am more than capable of taking care of myself and my children.

I am more than capable of doing what needs to be done.

I don’t want a relationship.

There is a difference between being single cause you’re forced to and being single cause you want to.

I want to be single.

I was married for 16 years and I wasn’t happy.  Why would I jump back into that?

And here’s another news flash:

Many men think that smart is sexy.

But the men that think that smart is sexy are the ones that are secure enough in their own skin to be with a smart woman.

And being smart has nothing to do with being single.

I am a smart, beautiful, single-by-choice woman who has met each hardship head on.

It hasn’t always been easy and it will be hard sometimes in the future.

But I’ll get through it.

So, for you haters out there – and you know who you are – keep on hating.

I know it’s because you are jealous of the strong woman I am.

I know it’s because you wish you could be more like me.

And I’m OK with that.

My life hasn’t been perfect in the past, isn’t perfect right now, and I’m sure it won’t be perfect in the future.

But I’ll have made it without leaning on a man and expecting him to take care of me.

And that’s pretty awesome.